Author's Note: Sorry it's taken longer than I'd like to update. Work got crazy busy, and quite frankly, this chapter put up a hell of a fight. I've known for a while now that I was going to write this chapter, and it just didn't want to come together once the time came for it. Well, I may have a few scrapes from the battle, but I won, and here it is.

Chapter 10: Sisters

Draco padded softly to his door, hearing a muffled commotion across the hall.

"Hermione, let me in." There was more knocking. "You can't just stay in there forever." There was the sound of a stamped foot. "I'm going back to school in a few days. Can't we at least talk about this? You're not the only one whose lost someone here!" Crying. She was definitely crying. And frustrated.

Draco had cracked his door to see out. As he suspected, it was the Weaslette, trying to pry Granger out of her isolation. He expected any moment now the cranky neighbor was going to poke her head out and yell. There was really only one thing he could do. "Give it up, Weaslette. She doesn't want to see you right now. Piss off or you're going to start a row and bring out the curmudgeonly bat that lives down the hall."

"Malfoy?" the redhead said, whirling towards him in disbelief. She looked him over. He was wearing Muggle clothes, leaning against his doorframe, looking at her calmly.

Draco eyed her robes. "You're going to attract attention in those," he said mildly.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I live here. Clearly Granger is ignoring you. I suggest you leave this hallway sooner rather than later." He frowned. The problem was, part of him thought that Granger could use a good kick in the pants right now, and seeing the Weaslette might do it. Or it might snap what sense of control Granger had managed to get on her life. He just noticed the door down the hall beginning to open and hurried some words out of his mouth before the scratchy voice could kick in. It was like nails on a chalkboard; he'd do anything to avoid hearing it. "We were just leaving, Ms. Gravis." He grabbed the Weaslette by the arm and pulled her into his flat. Apparently "anything" included having a Weasel in his flat.

"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" the Weaslette asked as he closed the door.

He gave her a look of long-suffering. "Keeping my eardrums intact."

"I mean, what are you doing here?"

He ignored her, going into his kitchen and taking the kettle of water off the stove and pouring himself a mug of hot water. He'd put the kettle on to boil before going to investigate the noise in the hallway. He stuck a teabag in his mug and came back to look at the Weaslette. "I'm living here, courtesy of the Ministry." He grimaced, looking down at his mug. The tea would take an age to steep. "What exactly are you doing here?"

Ginny studied him a moment, and then looked around the flat, stunned by the ordinariness of it. Draco Malfoy with a cup of tea in his hand, standing around in Muggle clothes as naturally as if they were robes. She saw a large box in the living room showing pictures and with people talking from it. She recalled Hermione telling her about those. It all looked so…Muggle. There were books with library markings on the spine.

He prompted again. "Weaslette, I live here. What are you doing here? Or have your wits left you so entirely that you can't even answer a simple question?"

"I came for Hermione. She's had long enough to mope by herself. She's the closest thing I have to a sister. She needs to be with her family now."

Draco looked at her cooly over the top of his tea and took a sip. "Really now? Because if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say she doesn't want to be found."

"She doesn't know what she needs right now. But she needs support. She can't manage here all on her own." She fidgeted angrily, not taking a seat.

"Well, she seems to be managing just fine as far as I can tell." That was stretching the truth a bit. But she was coping. He had some thoughts about where she might need a kick in the pants…but Granger had certainly made some progress over the last several weeks.

The Weaslette pursed her lips and her tone was as sarcastic as he'd ever heard it. "Oh yes, she's showing us she's perfectly fine, by staying away from us for weeks and staying her and Ron's flat long after she said she was leaving it. Yes, that sounds perfectly fine to me." She fingered the wand in her pocket. "And you just happen to live next door to Hermione?"

His mouth twisted. "What can I say? Evidently, someone at the Ministry has a sense of humor."

She frowned, but as he said nothing further, eventually her irritation subsided and gave way to worry. Why wouldn't Hermione want to see her? Could she be ill? Or under a spell? She shot a glance towards the door. "I realize you probably don't see much of her, but is she eating enough? Does she look all right? Mum was just starting to come 'round again after…after we lost Fred, and then Ron too." She swallowed. "She's not the same. More anxious than I've ever seen her, but more prone to snapping too. Which is saying something, if you've ever seen my mother's temper."

"Weaslette, I'm not Granger's keeper, and neither are you." He had a growing awareness of that fact that she surely had a wand on her, and he had nothing in his hands but a cup of tea. A cup of tea was hardly a fitting form of defense. Quite possibly he should not call her Weaslette—but maybe she didn't know about his current condition. If she didn't, being polite would only make her suspect something was wrong.

The flat was quiet, aside from the murmur of the television in the background. They simply met one another's eyes across the room. Ginny looking for words, and Draco daring her to say them if she found them. They were both startled by the knock at the door.

Draco waved the Weaslette away, and for a wonder she sat down on the couch, just out of eye-line of the door. Still carrying his tea, he casually opened the front door. Of course Granger was there.

"Ginny's finally gone. I thought Ms. Gravis was going to throw a tantrum," she said, inviting herself inside. The next words she was going to say died on her tongue as she saw Ginny sitting on his sofa. "What's she doing here?"

"Funny, I was just asking her the same question. Apparently Mother Weasley thinks you can't take care of yourself in this oh so difficult time in your life." He was fairly certain Granger would not hex him; she might even stop the Weaslette if she tried to do it, but he wouldn't count on that. He shut the door behind her before she could change her mind.

If looks could kill, the Weaslette would have murdered Draco on the spot. Obviously she wouldn't have phrased her message to Hermione quite the same way she'd said it to Draco. Too late now. "We all think you should come spend some time at the Burrow. It'd be good for you."

"And what? We all talk about Ron, because he's on all our minds? Or we all talk about anything but Ron because we can't bear the pain and he becomes the elephant in the room?" Hermione asked. "I won't do it. I'm managing fine here."

Draco did his best not to scoff—he needed her as an ally still for the time being—but something of what he was feeling must have come across his face, because Granger turned her irritation on him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but there are words all over your face, so you might as well."

The blonde shrugged. "You're doing all right. You could be doing better."

"Now you're going to start on me," she said bitterly.

"You asked. I wasn't going to say anything." He turned a sardonic eye to the Weaslette, giving a frank assessment. "Granger manages. She's clean. She's fed. And she's stood up to the Ministry for me. When she's ready, she'll move on with everything else. She's not there yet, and you coming in and whining at her isn't going to do any good. Go back to school like a good little student and leave her alone."

Hermione took a firm grip on this opportunity to change the topic. "Does your mother know that you're here even? I imagine she's worried herself sick with you disappeared like this. Just because you're of age now and you can Apparate doesn't mean that you can leave home whenever you'd like."

"I can't," Ginny said simply.

"What?"

The redhead shrugged, embarrassed. "With everything else going on last year, I never exactly managed to get my Apparation license. I had to get a ride from someone. Mum knows I'm with them."

Ginny refused to reveal the name of who had Apparated her to the flat, but in a few moments, her refusal became useless as they clearly heard the sound of someone knocking quite firmly on Hermione's door.

Hermione went to Draco's door and could just barely see far enough out the peephole to see who was knocking on her own door. She rounded on Ginny. "Percy. You brought Percy with you," she said, not quite believing it. Of all her brothers, why on earth would Ginny have chosen him?

"Yes, Percy. I didn't have much of a choice. Bill is rather busy—Fleur's just found out she's pregnant and he's acting as though she's as fragile as a Sugarquill. Charlie's gone back to Romania. Fred and George…" She trailed off and took a breath before saying firmly, "George isn't fit to do much more than get up in the morning and eat food without really tasting it. Lee's mostly got care of the shop right now. Dad…Dad thinks you're probably okay. Mum can hardly put one foot in front of the other sometimes, and the rest of the time almost forgets they're gone. So Percy's the only one. Besides…after everything, he's willing to do anything to make it up to the rest of us."

The bushy haired brunette frowned at Ginny and opened the door, sticking her head out. She cleared her throat to get Percy's attention and tried not to speak too loudly. "She's over here. Please, take her and go."

Percy spun around so suddenly that it might have been comical if Hermione could have mustered up a laugh, or even a smile. He frowned briefly and then smiled a little uncertainly, looking from the door he was at to where Hermione stood. "Did I mix up the numbers? I thought this one was yours and that one…" He trailed off.

Draco opened the door a little wider. "You're correct. This is my flat. Though evidently someone scheduled a Weasel reunion here and didn't tell me about it." He opened the door the rest of the way. "Do come in, everyone else has."

Looking as uncomfortable as Hermione had ever seen him, Percy crossed the few steps across the hall and into Draco's flat. He looked around with a mild curiosity while Hermione frowned and Ginny looked abashed.

Percy seemed to find his voice before the rest of them. "Well, Hermione, you're…looking well," he said awkwardly.

"Thank you, Percy," Hermione said, flat-voiced. "I appreciate your concern in coming here. I will visit the Burrow when I'm ready, and not before. Please give my best to everyone."

He rather awkwardly looked for words for a moment before falling back on what had always been his safety net: work. "Of course I will. Did you know that Kingsley decided to keep me on as Junior Assistant to the Minister? I don't believe Rufus really appreciated my efforts the way Cornelius did, but Kingsley believes I have quite a bit to offer. Who knows what might be next for me? Hmm?" He tried to look proud of himself, and to shake off the discomfort of the room as a whole.

Draco's eyebrow arched. "You wouldn't have anything to do with my current living arrangments, do you?"

Percy cleared is throat. "I certainly don't have that kind of power. While the Minister does seem to appreciate my advice, I really don't make those sorts of decisions, particularly where the Wizengammot is concerned. They do have their own separate process apart from the Minister." He could feel Hermione's gaze on him now, as well as Malfoy's, and if he'd looked over at the couch, instead of staring at the wall in front of him, he might have seen his sister trying to bore a hole in his skull with her eyes. "I may have, at some point, mentioned a possible vacancy in this building, but I had no notion of what purpose they were putting it to. I was merely asked if I was aware of anywhere suitably out of the way of magical landmarks, where someone from the Wizarding world might live in peace."

The blonde wasn't sure he believed the redhead, but he wasn't going to argue the point. Not now anyway. Instead, he let his sarcasm out instead. It was as good a deflection mechanism as any. "Well, here I am. Is the rest of your family due to fly in through the window at any moment? Or perhaps appear out of the tap in the kitchen?"

"No, no," Percy said hastily. "As a matter of fact, it's probably about time for us to be going, Ginny. I did tell Mum that I would take you for your school supplies, and the afternoon is rather getting on." He gave Draco a nod and Hermione a tight smile that looked rather more like a grimace. He started for the door at once, not waiting to see if his sister followed him.

Slowly, Ginny did follow, clearly exhibiting the utmost reluctance to leave her best friend here with the Malferret. Hermione looked at Ginny for a moment and then went and hugged her hard. "Even if I'm not all right yet, I will be," she promised.

"Please, come see the family. Even if I'm away at school. It'd do all of you good," Ginny asked, one more time.

"I'll be all right, Gin. Go on, and good luck." As she watched her friend disappear—they had to get beyond Malfoy's door to be outside the anti-Apparation wards—she hoped that Ginny would at least be able to have a year at school without the fear and war that had shadowed all of Hermione's school years. Unlike Hermione, Ginny could have a year at the school while there was peace, with nothing more horrifying at the end of it than her NEWTs, which really were horrifying enough. After all, isn't that what they'd been fighting for for the last decade?

Hermione wasn't even aware she was crying until Malfoy approached her with a piece of kitchen towel for her eyes. Rough as it was, she appreciated the gestured and carefully dabbed at her face.

"You were telling the truth, you know," he said conversationally. "You will be all right."

For a moment, she cried harder still, despite trying to fight the tears down. At last she gathered herself up, aware of Malfoy standing a few feet aware, trying carefully not to watch her as he moved around the flat, as if his presence in it might successfully expel any remnant Weasley-cooties. With an effort, and a splotchy face, she finally found her words. "I know."