A/N: Just a warning: the flashbacks are going to be pretty dark for the next few chapters.

Also, welcome to all the new followers! It's still incredible to think that anyone wants to read this!

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, you guys really help me focus my energy to get these chapters out in a timely manner.

There was an anon review that requested more info on Luna. I've answered that question on tumblr, where everybody can reach me for questions or comments or whatever. (cre8tivelymundane) I've also joined twitter (excuse me while I throw up) cre8ivelymndane.

Chapter Nine: To Fly a Broom

March 2001

Lestrange Mansion

The Lestrange Mansion had dungeons. Not cellars with heavily reinforced doors like Malfoy Manor, or a moldering stone basement like Hogwarts, but real dungeons. They were well-designed and fairly clean. Each cell had a blanket which kept off the chill and a bucket which was magically emptied every morning. Hermione lay on the cold stone floor of her cell, her face pressed against the wall. There was a tiny vent at the meeting of the wall and floor, and it was the only thing connecting her to Luna, who was in the cell next to her. At first, Hermione had been puzzled as to why the two of them would be put in adjacent rooms with a hole through which they could communicate, until she realized the hole was so they could hear each other scream.

Luna was sobbing. The cell door had just slammed shut and she was alone now. Hermione scratched at the vent, which was barely large enough to fit three fingers through, her toes grappling at the drain in the floor for purchase. No matter how she yanked and scraped and pulled, the hole never got an larger, and she never got any closer to her friend.

"Luna!" she shouted over the weeping. "I'm here! Luna come to the vent in the wall."

There wasn't much that Hermione could see, but she knew there was blood. It was under Luna's fingernails as they clutched at each other, their first two fingers wrapped tight. Hermione winced. The ring and pinky finger of her hand were broken for certain. She was also having trouble seeing out of her right eye, the flesh swollen and throbbing. It was those injuries upon which Hermione focused, desperate to ignore the stinging ache in her abdomen and between her thighs.

Luna was gasping for air.

"Control your breathing, soldier," Hermione demanded, struggling with her own sickening fear. "Don't fall to pieces. That's what they want. They want to hear us suffer."

Luna hiccuped. "It hurts," she cried. "D-d-distract me."

Hermione cast about for something, anything that could keep both their minds off of what was happening, of what was sure to continue happening until they died. "I've been contemplating words that begin with the letter H. Could you help me?"

The Ravenclaw coughed in disbelief. "H-h-abit. H-homogenous. Harmony. . ."

Hermione watched Neville, Luna and Pansy fade into the Forbidden Forest as the sky darkened and silently wished them well. She wanted to go with them and see the Torchflower, but she had another mission to accomplish, and it was to be done tonight. Malfoy was to meet her in the village green when he was finished at the castle. They both had spent the the day locked in the old stone keep, Hermione in battle councils, and Malfoy finally completing his debriefing. Judging from the momentary glimpse of his haggard appearance as they passed each other in the dining hall, he had been put through the ringer.

Even though the sun had set, there were still people working the fields. There was no time to dawdle. The harvest was coming early this year, the normal schedule for reaping disregarded in favor of clearing the land for a battlefield. They would keep and preserve what was edible, and burn the rest. It was a waste of all the work they had put into tending the crops all year, but Hermione knew that the fruits of this harvest would not be necessary come the winter anyway. One way or another, the Order would have left Hogwarts by the time the snow fell.

Hermione walked between the wheat fields on her way to the village, her boots sinking deep into the newly turned earth. The village was made up of rows of attached houses centered around a small green. There were six houses in each row, each house made of two levels with a small garden. Hermione traipsed through the green, which was littered with toys and a few children playing happily under floating magical lights and the watchful eye of an adult. Hermione waved at the woman as she passed, who nodded her head in recognition before breaking up a fight between two small boys. They would be gone soon as well. Noncombatants were to be shipped off to Sweden, into the arms of a small society of Order sympathizers headed by Bill and Fleur Weasley.

A familiar row of houses appeared around the corner. The last few homes in the row were occupied, the third house to the end by Augusta Longbottom and her mentally incapacitated children, Frank and Alice, who had been abducted from St. Mungos immediately after the new regime took power. Next to them lived Andromeda Tonks and her grandson, who were kind enough to sometimes share their home with Hermione- and their porch with Luna. Rounding out the end of the row was the home of Harry and Ginny Potter and their daughter, Lily.

Andromeda's house was empty. Hermione walked up the stairs after calling out a few times and receiving no answer. She packed a few things from her small bedroom. Clearing the entire room might be more appropriate, since she would probably never sleep in the space again, but she was still reluctant to take that final step. Thinking about a future after the war was disorienting, and it made wild magic spark off the tips of her fingers, so she simply stuffed a few shirts and a stack of books into her bag. Taking one last look at a place where she had found shelter and a home for years, she shut the door and headed to the next house over.

When Hermione stepped onto the front path of the Potters' house, she was attacked by a flying toddler in a yellow dress, her blonde hair streaming out behind her.

"Aunt Mynee!" The wiggling bundle screeched. "You're back!"

Hermione clutched her god-daughter tightly, breathing in the scent of dirt and peanut butter and clean linen that was usual for a four-year-old, and also that indefinable scent that was entirely Lily Potter. The girl's huge, blue eyes were crinkled with joy.

"Hello, my love. I missed you!"

The front door slammed open and Teddy walked out. He waited for his hug patiently, very solemn at the ripe old age of seven.

"Hello Aunt 'Mione," he said. He was nearly as tall as Hermione now, the top of his head reaching her nose. She was certain he would be as tall as Remus Lupin had been. His metamorphomagus ability inherited from his mother meant that he could change his appearance at will, but he chose to look like his deceased father, only with bright green hair. Seeing a young Remus still sent a pang of grief straight to her heart, even after all these years. Hermione shifted Lily to one hip, and slung an arm around Teddy's shoulder, walking them both inside while she listened to them describe their time while she was away.

Inside the house, Andromeda Tonks was rinsing dishes in the sink, while supervising a lump of dough that was magically kneading itself. The older woman had become the matriarch of their pieced-together family after Molly Weasley passed away. Teddy was her grandson, of course, but she also took on Lily and a few other children when their parents were away on missions. She made sure everyone was fed well at least once a week by instituting Sunday Dinner, which was held every week without fail and open to anyone who wanted to come. The price of admission was a plate of food to share, either cooked or begged off the castle elves.

Ginny was seated at the table, slicing a carrot into a large bowl. Teddy had scampered away into the living room, no doubt afraid of being tasked with something if he stayed. Hermione sat Lily at the table in front of an unfinished plate of peanut butter and toast.

"Evening, Dromeda," Hermione kissed her cheek.

"Hello dear," she responded, not stopping what she was doing. "Are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich."

"No, thank you, but these biscuits look absolutely lovely," Hermione answered, grabbing a handful out of a ceramic jar and giving Ginny a peck on the head as she passed. "Hello," she greeted her friend.

Ginny smiled at her wanly, dark circles under her eyes. There was only one reason why Andromeda wasn't in her own home cooking dinner for her grandson, and it involved Harry Potter and his degenerative curse. Ginny moved over a bit, making room for Hermione to sit

next to her goddaughter.

Andromeda hummed. "You haven't been eating enough."

"How could you possibly know that?" Hermione argued.

"Well you've been up at the castle, and likely working yourself to death." Andromeda pinned her with a disapproving glare. "Not sleeping either, I'll wager."

Hermione looked away guiltily. It had been nearly two days since she had watched Malfoy turn himself into a dragon, and she had spent most her daylight hours tending to her Order duties, which of course meant she had absolutely no time to accomplish her other, more secret goals. She had been up for hours the night before, picking apart the notebook and making color coded lists. It's not like she would've slept anyway, and having a plan helped curb some of the anxiety that was eating away at her brain.

"Don't worry," Ginny chuckled as she nudged Hermione with her shoulder. "Mama 'Dromeda will feed your poor, starving soul."

The older woman sent Ginny a stern look as she placed a sandwich in front of Hermione. Sighing at the sight of a meal she had no desire to consume, Hermione obediently picked up the food and took a bite.

"You'll be coming to dinner Sunday?" Andromeda asked from the sink.

"Sunday Dinner!" Lily chirped.

"Not this week, 'Dromeda. I've got a ton of supply paperwork due, and Kingsley has me running harvest time-tables, as well as plans for the . . ." Hermione trailed off under the weight of a grey-eyed stare. She winced. "Yes, I'll be coming to dinner." There went another three hours she could have spent trying to save the Order from certain defeat.

Andromeda nodded in satisfaction and turned back to her dishes. "Bring those Slytherin friends of yours."

Ginny's head whipped around and Hermione choked on her cookie. "Do you think that's wise?"

"No one would dare cause trouble under my roof," the older woman scoffed. Sensing Hermione's hesitation, she continued in a quiet voice, "Besides, I want to see my sister."

"I'm so sorry, 'Dromeda, of course I'll bring them. I would have brought Narcissa before now if I had thought you wanted to see her." And if it had occurred to her that her surrogate mother and the woman she had hated for so many years were related. They were so opposite it was hard to remember that they had grown up together.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, my dear. I am quite grateful to no longer be associated with my former family." There were a few minutes of silence in which Ginny cleaned Lily's face with a wet rag.

"Tell me," Andromeda demanded after Lily had been sent to the sitting room to play. "Is it true that my sister has been working for the Order? That she no longer follows the beliefs of that insane man she married?"

"I don't know about her beliefs," Hermione said slowly, wondering if that were true. She thought back to the day Narcissa had stood over her, healed her wounds and then berated her for losing hope, for taking the easy way out. The woman had been covered in Hermione's blood at the time, and hadn't seemed disgusted by it at all. Perhaps she knew more about the former Death Eater than she would like to admit. "But I know she and Draco have been fighting against Bellatrix since she took power."

Ginny plucked a piece of tomato off Hermione's plate. "Harry says that Malfoy is a completely different person than he was in school," she said around the food in her mouth. Hermione scoffed. "Besides still being an arsehole," Ginny amended.

Andromeda closed her eyes for a moment in relief, before shaking her head as if to clear it of unpleasant thoughts. "Well," she said, pasting a bright smile on her face and turning her attention to her magically kneaded dough. "It will be nice to meet my nephew and his friends."

"If you say so," Hermione muttered. It would be much the same as their few meals in the dining hall. She could picture it now: six Purebloods sulking elegantly in the corner as they attempted to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of an entire room full of people who were pretending they didn't exist. "Where's Harry?"

"Upstairs," Ginny grew solemn. "He's been having a bit of trouble."

Hermione hummed. "Tremors?"

The redhead nodded. "It's getting hard for him to walk, even with the muscle relaxer. And his heart is working harder than it should."

Hermione let the fear wash over her and away. She needed to be in control of her emotions before facing her best friend, who was dying right before her eyes. There was nothing she could do, and she had tried everything. The curse that had hit Harry was unheard of, and had never affected anyone else. Hermione theorized that it had been a lethal magic that had only incapacitated the Chosen One because of a good shield charm, or because it didn't hit him dead on. Nobody could be sure, and nobody had any answers. Harry had been given a year to live when he awoke from the resulting week-long coma, but Hermione had kept him alive for three.

He was upstairs, tucked into bed with a book, a dark shadow along his jaw.

"My leg's giving me a bit of trouble," he explained carelessly as Hermione gave him a kiss on the cheek. She could see the way the limb was twitching under the blanket. She swallowed down the questions she longed to ask. Had he taken his daily potion? A calming draught to help with the muscle spasms?

"My beautiful wife has ordered me to bed." Harry glared at said woman, who glared right back.

"You could barely walk, Harry." Ginny intervened. "The last thing you need is to fall flat on your face in the middle of the dining hall. Again."

"I could walk if I needed to," he grumbled.

"Of course, dear." Gin winked at Hermione as she left the room, calling over her shoulder. "Don't keep him too long. If he wants to attend the next Council meeting, then he needs to rest."

"I'm going to tell you something," Hermione said, lacing her fingers with Harry's. His eyes widened at the intimate contact. "About Malfoy and why he came to Hogwarts. You have to keep it secret."

"Why a secret?"

"Because Kingsley has expressly forbidden me from attempting it."

"And you're doing it anyway?" One half of Harry's face looked shocked. "Blimey Hermione. Must be important."

"War ending. And I need your help." She paused, considering. "And your cloak."

Draco couldn't get the scent of her out of his nose. It wasn't overwhelming or even particularly obvious, but it was ever-present. It was layered under every other scent he encountered. The experience should have been confusing, but Draco found himself quite capable of smelling both coffee and Granger- or soap and Granger, or moldy castle walls and Granger- all at the same time. Randomly throughout his day, he would catch a burst of citrus and warm skin and become conscious of it. He would stop whatever menial task he was doing and swing around to seek out its source, but find no trace of a swotty, curly-haired woman.

How was it possible to be separated from someone, yet be completely aware of them at all times? This strange side-effect of his transfiguration had not been predicted by either Draco or Blaise. What belonged to the Dragon should have disappeared when he did, and yet, Draco was fighting the extrasensory inputs constantly. He hadn't been near her in two days, only seeing her in passing as she readied the castle for battle, and only exchanging a few words. He was curt with her, and sometimes outright nasty. It wasn't strictly fair to blame her for his current predicament, but he felt marginally better when he saw her furrow her brow and frown at him.

Like she was frowning at him now. They were both on brooms hovering over the Scottish Dragon Research Institute, and watching the wand light of five Legionnaires approach from the east.

"I told you not to be late," she admonished. "We've missed the guard change."

Draco had almost sprinted across Hogwarts grounds to get to the village on time, only to find her waiting with Portkey in hand, foot tapping impatiently. Fucking Dawlish and his fucking inquisition had taken all fucking day. Draco was tired, irritable, and didn't want to listen to Granger snipe at him, no matter what she smelled like.

"And I told you we should have gone to Romania. No Legionnaires."

"I don't have a Portkey to the Romanian Dragon Reserve, you prat!"

"Poor planning on your part." They needed dragon's blood, and they needed it fairly fresh. Unfortunately, Draco couldn't contribute his own blood while in dragon form, according to Persia. The magic that affected the change also affected its usefulness in a potion. The plan was to break into the SDRI's research lab and steal a phial. They only needed a few drops of the scalding fluid for the Fangjuice Potion. It had been Potter's idea to go to the SDRI rather than the Potion Supply shop on Diagon Alley. The hope was that there would be a smaller presence of Legionnaires at a research facility than at the highly populated center of Wizarding commerce. The git had been right of course. Five Legionnaires was nothing they couldn't handle, especially if there were only these few.

"I'll draw them off," Granger decided. "Find the buildings that hold the laboratories and get the blood. We'll meet back at the main fountain where we 'Keyed in."

Draco hesitated. There were five attackers, but he had seen her with a wand, and if she thought she could handle them by herself then he was inclined to believe her. But still, he was reluctant to just fly away and leave her alone. He buried his uncertainty and nodded to her.

"Take the cloak!" She balled up the large garment and tossed it to him.

"Kill them and then stay out of sight!" he shouted at her as he sailed away, invisible. The Dragon sulking in the back of his mind snarled at him to stay with her, to protect her. He threw one last look at her over his shoulder, his human mind mostly satisfied that she was fully capable of keeping herself alive, and continued on his way. If he kept looking back, it was just his way of making sure she followed his instructions.

Malfoy had just disappeared from view under the cloak when the first two Legionnaires flew within range and started throwing hexes at her. Hermione's broom was hit with a curse and sputtered, careening to the side. It only took two well aimed curses to kill her pursuers, allowing her to focus on the real problem. Where the hell was she going to land? There was nothing but dragon enclosures beneath her, the large creatures stirring at the sound of the humans above. The last three enemies on brooms appeared behind her, gaining fast. Her broom shuddered and started losing altitude. Merlin, she hated flying. She couldn't fight and keep her control of the blasted thing. A curse exploded against her shield ward. They were just behind her.

"Halt!" she heard. "You're trespassing on Ministry owned land!"

Another pursuer went down with a blasting hex. Hermione considered turning to face the last two in order to initiate a full blown offense, but the last thing she needed was to be identified. The approaching enclosure held a smallish dragon, fully awake and spitting fire at the humans interrupting her rest. She was trying to take flight, but the skin of her wings had been excised by the barbaric researchers to keep her on the ground. Making a decision, Hermione swooped towards the angry creature.

Once she was inside the tall enclosure walls, the dragon lunged forward. Hermione canted to the left and felt a sweltering breath against her legs. The Legionnaire following closely behind her was snatched out of the air. His scream was cut short when he met the wall. The broom under her stuttered to a halt. Hermione tucked up and rolled to the ground, her breath leaving her on impact. Rolling to her back, she sighted the last Legionnaire, who was swooping into the cage more carefully than his partner, and halted his broom in midair. The man flipped over the end of the wooden handle and landed at the feet of the dragon, who promptly ripped his stomach out.

Hermione noticed the small creature hiding behind its mother just before a large, grey claw slammed into her, knocking her back. There was a loud crack as her head hit the concrete wall and pain rocketed through her ribcage. Multi-colored stars danced behind her eyelids. Her gut told her to move out of the way, and she rolled to the side just as a large, spiked tail slammed into the dirt where she had been laying. It missed her body, but swept her dropped wand out of her reach. She hadn't remembered to replace her spare since she had given it to Malfoy, and now she was unarmed but for her knife. Dirt and rocks scraped against her palms as she scrambled to stand. The dragon reared back to strike. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and turned away, regretting that her death would bring the Order no closer to victory. She only hoped that Malfoy had managed to get what they needed.

As soon as the thought left her head, there was a swooping noise, followed by wind and sound and a percussive thud as something very large landed in front of her. A whip made of slinky scales and hardened muscles wrapped around her gently and Hermione opened her eyes to see a spiked back and wall of pearly wings instead of an angry female dragon.

"Malfoy?" she gasped.

He let loose a roar that rang through her head and left her eyes spinning. The other dragon reared back at the appearance of a new, and much larger male creature, but recovered quickly and snapped at him. The bite missed its mark, and the dragon's teeth cracked together with a sharp report. Hermione heard a rumble deep in Malfoy's chest, a sound so physical that she could follow its progress up his neck and out of his mouth in the form of bright blue flames. The female dragon stumbled back from the heat, spreading her wings to protect the small creature in the corner.

"She has a baby!" Hermione screamed at Malfoy, hoping he could hear and understand. His head swung around to her, and she would swear he sighed. The tail that was keeping her behind him squeezed shut around her middle and slid her to the shelter of the access door. As soon as his restraining hold on her ceased, Hermione lunged forward and snatched up her wand, retreating to the door with the weapon held ready. There wasn't much she could do against the curse-resistant dragon scales of the female, but she would be ready if Malfoy needed help.

What was he doing, anyway? They could have flown away long ago, but still he engaged the possessive female. They faced each other, tails lashing about angrily. The small grey dragon was fierce and enraged, protecting her hatchling with everything she had. They sent balls of fire through the air and snatched for each other with their teeth. Malfoy would lunge forward, then retreat quickly when she moved to retaliate. His jaws closed around the flesh of her flank and she let out a bark of pain. Suddenly, he backed away. He turned and closed his large claw around Hermione's middle. Then they were airborne, Hermione's stomach overturning with the sudden movement. She closed her eyes and grabbed at him tightly, wrapping her legs around his scaly foot.

Eventually, her stomach settled and she opened her eyes to find that they had landed near a small stream, the lights of the research facility a distant glow on the horizon. Hermione stood and stumbled back, reeling. Malfoy's large dragon claw reached toward her and ripped the bag from her shoulder. "Hey!" she shrieked.

Ignoring her, Malfoy fumbled inside the bag, spilling its contents onto the grass until a jar rolled out. It was the one she had prepared with heat resistant and shatter-proofing spells so it could hold the dragon's blood. He nosed it over to her and grunted. A black talon lightly tapped the ground in front of him. She set it down where he had indicated and stepped back. He rolled his eyes and flicked it back to her.

"What do you want?" Hermione demanded. Grey eyes stared at her and nosed at the jar. That was when Hermione saw the trail of blood leak down his chin and sizzle into the grass. With a gasp, Hermione picked up the enchanted glass again and unscrewed the lid. "Like this?"

He nodded and tapped the ground again. When it was in front of him and Hermione had stepped away, he put his muzzle to the jar and proceeded to spit a mouthful of blood into the glass vessel. The considerable amount that didn't make it into the jar hissed and steamed as it melted into the ground. The pearl colored dragon shrank into the form of a tall, blonde human who stumbled to the stream and dunked his head in the water.

"Urghh," human Malfoy gurgled, his throat filled with water.

"Are you okay?" Hermione knelt next to him. When he didn't reply, she took his jaw into her hand and turned his face to hers. His mouth was blistered at the corners. "Merlin!" she exclaimed.

She yanked Mafloy's wand from his coat and put it to his lips and started muttering every healing charm she could think of, starting with spells to fix burns. She hoped that injuries from dragon's blood weren't as resistant to magic as those from dragon's fire. Malfoy closed his eyes in relief as the redness started to fade. As Hermione's heart slowed down, she started to feel the pain in her ribs.

"That was fucking stupid," she told him.

"And jumping into a cage with a dragon was smart?" he shot back, his words a bit slurred. "We needed the blood since I had to abandon my search for the labs to save your sorry arse."

"Stop talking, you'll hurt yourself!" she snapped. "I didn't jump in, I landed. There wasn't much choice. I had Legionnaires chasing me and broom that was dying."

"Using a living, fire breathing animal as shelter from your enemies is fucking stupid!" His mouth must be feeling better. "I saw that thing throw you against the concrete wall."

The sharp aching in her chest was worse now and there was a throbbing at the back of her head. Hermione pulled the Portkey from her back pocket and held it out to her partner with a wince. Reaching was a bad idea. He snatched her hand and made sure they both had a good grip before activating it. The Portkey brought them back to the hilltop upon which they had first entered Hogwarts.

Malfoy stood, yanking her with up with him. The world was spinning.

"Wait. Wait!" she groaned, chuckling. "I think I broke a rib or two."

"And that's funny, is it?" he growled.

"I'm not dead." She was grinning at him. "And I was pretty sure I was going to be dragon food. So, yeah, it's a little funny."

"That makes no sense."

"I may have also hit my head," she admitted.

"And you're bleeding! Fuck's sake," he swore, his fingers gently probing the wound at the back of her head.

"Ugh," Hermione exclaimed. "I don't have time for a head injury!"

She thought she was standing on her own until the moment her forehead made contact with Malfoy's chest. He sighed and put his wand to her neck. A wave of warm magic tickled the back of her head and a bit of the pain subsided. She snuggled her nose into his coat and made a humming noise. He smelled nice. "I've definitely hit my head."

With her cheek pressed against his chest, Hermione couldn't see the way Malfoy's eyes closed and his nostrils flared, but just before she lost consciousness, she did feel the way his hands gripped her upper arms and tugged her closer.

A/N: The Dramione is FINALLY gonna start appearing, I promise.

Hope everyone has a great week. Leave me a line if you have a sec!