AN:

Let me start by saying thank you to my reviewers! You guys gave me mixed reviews. While KawaiiAlex said they thought it'd be better only in Hermione's POV, I had already started with Draco's, wanting to put some of the history, wanting to explain WHY Hermione was Honey, and honestly wanting to get back a little into the wizarding world (It didn't quite seem HP enough). So here it is!

This chapter is about the length of the first two together but I just couldn't see where to separate it without a weird break!

Let me know what you think! Read and Review PLEASE and Thank you!

"So let me get this straight, you - Draco Malfoy, one of Lord Voldemort's most trusted minions - you hid the most wanted mudblood in the Wizarding World?!"A roar of laughter filled the room, sounding strangely out of place echoing off the stone walls. Hours of questioning and it seemed neither wizard was willing to give in; it had to be cranked up a notch.

"Confractus!"

The finger on which his wand rested snapped violently backwards. The last of the laughter echoing in the corners was replaced with a low grunt and heavy breathing.

"You son of a – "

"Do you really want to finish that statement? Speaking ill of my mother definitely isn't going to do you any good."

"Does she know? Does the Dark Lord know?" While the words were meant to sound smug, they came out instead strained between teeth gritted in pain.

"Know what?"

"That in your spare time you not only are creating and perfecting new curses but you are also – " The conversation was cutoff as choking and gagging replaced the words cutting through the air between the best friends.

"Did you get all tongue-tied?" Between the coughs, as air refilled the strangled lungs, mumbled expletives could be heard. "Would you prefer I cut out your tongue next time?"

Dark brown eyes met light grey ones. "I'm not telling you shit!"

"Then you leave me no choice mate. Transperforo!"

Silence filled the room momentarily as if both wizards were frozen in time, waiting for something to strike. An amused snicker shook the wizard bound in the chair. "Looks like you need a little more work on those hexes - mate." He spat out the final word as if it pained him to call the wizard towering above him a comrade. Then without warning he screeched in agony, straining against the restraints in hopes of locating the source of such discomfort. "What the bloody hell did you do Draco?"

"You know Dolohov, correct?" Draco bent down, face-to-face with the fettered captive in front of him. He watched as a look laced with recognition and a tiny bit panic flashed across the features of the face before his. "Of course you would since it seems Mother Dearest has deemed him appropriate for Daddy Number 8." Draco rose tall and confident, circling a trembling Blaise Zabini like a vulture shadowing his prey below; he hated what he was doing, torturing one of his best friends for information but he had to know how exactly Zabini ended up here in California of all places. He had to know whether or not he'd been sent here for Hermione.

Whimpering, Draco could hear Zabini fighting to keep the screams of agony building inside him suppressed. He knew his companion well enough to know that he would do anything to hide the pain that he knew was undoubtedly increasing every second. "We both are aware of Dolohov's curse, seeing it cast upon helpless adversaries. Well Dolohov's handiwork weakened the organs, causing them to rot and shrivel; interesting but not quite as painful as my creation, the curse that currently plaguing you."

Blaise didn't bother to raise his head while Draco spoke. Perhaps he couldn't move, too sore from the torture happening inside his body, or perhaps he just didn't want to acknowledge that his best friend was at the other end of the wand causing such excruciating pain. When a trickle of blood started to collect in Zabini's lap, Draco tipped back his head worrying that his spell may have killed him faster than anticipated; instead he discovered that Blaise had bit through his lip trying to hold in his screams.

"You see I tweaked his curse; my creation punctures organs through and through, causing internal damage. It takes a moment for the effects to set in but once they do this curse's torment intensifies gradually and then, just when you think it is all about over, nothing can be worse in this moment, death must be knocking at the door – " Draco paused knowing what was coming next. He leaned against the wall, impressed that Zabini had held out as long as he had. He was about to continue his speech when Blaise's head snapped towards the ceiling and he let out a deep wail of agony, as if praying to the God's, any God, to end the torture happening inside of him.

"Silencio!" The screams were immediately muted. Blaise's head fell and Draco thought he saw a glistening of tears on his cheeks; it very well could have been sweat though. "Just then, that pain, that was another organ being pierced straight through. It will continue, organ by organ until you die." Blaise's shoulders started to shake; Draco wondered whether from weakness and pain or fear. "Or, of course, until I administer the counter-curse." Zabini fought to raise his head, eyes glazing over; Draco knew he was about to lose consciousness. He raised his wand and muttered the only words that would keep his best friend alive; what use was the wizard if he were dead.

Bloodied and beaten, Zabini almost didn't look recognizable. Magically bound to a chair so tightly Draco wondered how the blood was able to circulate within Zabini and spill from his mouth, onto his lap.

He conjured up a glass of water and held it out but Blaise weakly shrugged it away. "If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have delivered the counter. I don't need to poison you, Mate." Draco starred as the sunken eyes in front of him narrowed into slits; in that moment he realized that 15 minutes of his curse had turned a healthy man into one that looked as if he had been battling extreme illness for years. "Look the counter-curse completely healed any damage done but that doesn't mean you aren't worse for the wear." When Zabini still didn't make a move for the water, Draco tipped it back and downed the glass.

"Wha – What do you want?" Blaise croaked out as if he'd been unable to speak for years.

"What brings you to California?"

"Va – " He paused to clear his throat. "Vacation"

"So you'd have me to believe that you came over 8,000 kilometers for a vacation? Nobody twisted your arm?"

"The only person that twisted my arm was Pansy." Blaise tried to chuckle at Draco but it came out sounding closer to a Hippogriff cough. "Don't look at me like you had no clue that I was seeing Pansy; it's been around the rumor factory several times."

"Yeah but I didn't –" Draco cut himself of mid-statement. "Wait does that mean that Pansy is in town as well?"

Blaise got extremely still in that moment but Draco immediately saw the sign he was looking for, a twitch in his lip that screamed I'm Lying!

"Crucio"

As red light streamed from the tip of the wand and hit its target square in the heart. Blaise's body jerked against the restraints, the sound of teeth grinding bounced off the walls. When Draco lifted the torturous curse, he figured his best friend would have little fight left in him.

"Does the Dark Lord know you're here Zabini?" He paused as Blaise repositioned himself in the chair. "Does he know that SHE is here?"

Zabini lifted his chin high, forcing his eyes to meet Draco's. Then it was as if he suddenly understood, like an invisibility cloak had been lifted off the situation.

"You love her!"

"I asked you if the Dark Lord knows." Draco was losing the little bit of patience he had left. His calm voice rose in anger as he practically shouted, "Does he know Hermione is in California?"

Blaise answered with a roll of his eyes; "No, nobody was made aware that I am in California! And as far as she" he practically spat out the word "is concerned, I had no information to contrast her death, much less that the bitch is alive and here."

"So then, what are you doing so far from home?" Draco knew he couldn't completely believe what Blaise Zabini was telling him. Later he'd bind his body and mind, perform occulmency, and tear down all his friend's walls towards the complete truth.

"I –" The look on Zabini's face was sour, as if he couldn't believe he was about to spout the words festering on his tongue. "I was scouting the place out. Seeing how private it could be."

"Why?" Draco was curious now.

"Because I wanted a getaway, somewhere where I could disappear for a few days with –"

"Pansy?" Draco finished. He wasn't looking at the wizard bound in the chair at his feet, but he could hear the weak, frustrated sign that he emitted, causing him to give his undivided attention to Blaise.

"No." Zabini practically growled in frustration. His next words came out in a whisper so quiet Draco almost missed them, almost. "With Flora and Hestia."

"The Carrow twins?" Draco questioned in disbelief. When Blaise nodded Draco continued slowly – "Aren't they both engaged and neither to you?"

"Their father always despised me, claiming that I wasn't worthy enough to have his daughters. Little does he know – I have them, together, several times a week!" Zabini said smugly. Then under his breath Draco heard him mutter something close to "They're freaky bitches!"

Draco rubbed his temples, trying to sort out whether Zabini's story was likely or improbable. The move seemed to irritate Blaise to some extent because he struggled against the restraints and practically howled "Look into my brain. There are enough memories in there that prove this. You know I'm bloody awful at making shit up – there is no way I could fabricate THIS many sex scenes with two slags!"

Turning his back to his friend, Draco leaned against the cold stone, contemplating how the two wizards got to this spot in time. "So Pansy?"

"The girls' idea. They figured if people, their family and suitors in particular, thought I was spending my time with a lady, fingers wouldn't be pointed in the direction of our little trio. Pansy was an easy target because we both know she likes me so much that she'd never deny the rumors; if worse came to worse I could use her a few times, turning the rumors to facts."

Throughout Blaise's speech, realization struck Draco that not only was this plan smart, it solidified this as the truth. Zabini sucked at making up lies and pulling them off; this story wasn't a fabrication. But now what? Draco started to pace. He now knew that Voldemort was unaware of Hermione's existence in California. But how could he keep it that way? Of course Blaise just couldn't give him a moment of piece and silence to think about the next plan of action.

"SOOOO I'm curious how the biggest pureblood prat and someone so high up in the Death Eater ranks fell in love with the worst of the worst."

Draco turned and exited the room quickly. He needed a moment to think in quiet. In the hallway he slid down to a seated position, burying his head in his arms, hiding himself into a childish position that made him feel strangely safe from everything happening around him.

How was indeed the question.

When was also a valid question.

If he was being completely honest with himself, Draco always felt this strange pull towards Hermione Granger. Sure when he was at Hogwarts he despised her, just like he was taught. But there was always this strangeness that he could never quite explain, even if he had wanted to put a finger on it.

His eyes were drawn to her. Frequently he would find himself staring at her in class, when she was staring excitedly ahead, almost brimming from the knowledge she was receiving. On occasion he would find privacy in a corner of the library and would watch around a book as Hermione studied, biting her lip when a subject particularly stumped her. Over the years at Hogwarts he had learned the smallest most intimate details about Hermione Granger, details he didn't even care to spot in all the girls he escorted through his dormitory. When nervous she would chew on her quill or her thumb, never biting down enough to cause damage, just resting it against her teeth. Or like how after that particularly awful incident in 4th year, when she was deep in thought, a daydream perhaps, she would run her tongue slowly over the fronts of the teeth. Draco noticed that when he got her riled up and angry her breathing would hitch, her nostrils would flair slightly, and her hair would whirl faintly as if her anger actually created a breeze.

It was as if he had hypersensitive ears but only to her laughter. He'd be sitting at dinner, listening to one of the Slytherin's drone on, when her giggling would start reverberating around his head; tables away it would sound like he was sitting right there next to her and Potter and one Weasley or another. He never could hear what she was giggling about which would perplex him even more - in a time when someone like her should be worried or scared, she was laughing.

Oftentimes at night he would swear he could smell her in his private dormitory; lavender and vanilla. It flooded his nostrils when she was in the same room, causing irreparable damage to his senses for the next 24 hours.

He'd break into nervous sweats when she was around, usually accompanied by slight tremors in the hands that he started hiding by keeping his hands clinched in his pockets. It got to the point that he knew when she was around a corner before turning, or when he was outside the castle, he knew that she had just exited the big doors. He could feel this shift in the atmosphere.

Of course these issues only intensified each year. First year it was just slightly off-putting; he hadn't, after all, even spoken a full sentence to the bushy-haired witch.

Second year it became impossible to ignore after the time that the Slytherin Quidditch team encountered the Gryffindor's on their way to the pitch. Her statement "they got in on pure talent" truly shook him, throwing him off his game because most witches adored wealth of the Malfoy family. He'd retorted by calling her a mudblood, because he wanted the older Slytherin's to like him but the broken look on her face would haunt him. He remembered lying on the cold, leather couches in the Slytherin common room after a particularly bad night plagued with dreams of that specific face, he strangely wanted to caress away the troubled lines. That day he'd made a nasty comment to Crabbe and Goyle that he wished Hermione would be the next victim of the Heir of Slytherin; his statement would haunt him more than hers did after she was attacked. He complained with a stomach ailment that night so Snape would send him to the infirmary; there he snuck behind her curtain and watched her frozen body from the shadows.

Third year was when Hermione started to snap back at his comments. Surprisingly she reached her boiling point not when he commented about her but when he made some off-the-wall insult about Hagrid; she slapped him and that touch ignited in him this odd passion to feel her skin against his.

Fourth year was of course when he almost let his guard too far down. When the death eaters arrived at the Quidditch World Cup, he couldn't stop himself from warning Pothead and Weasel to get Hermione to safety, but thankfully it came out less caring and more tauntingly so neither thought twice about it. But that wasn't even the worst of it, fourth year was the year of the Twi Wizard Tournament. Not only did he feel a pang of jealousy every time he spotted Hermione with that oaf Krum, but he had to hear about it constantly from the other Slytherin girls. Then when she showed up to the Yule Ball on his arm, dressed in a shade of blue that accentuated her skin, he couldn't stop staring. Thankfully neither could Pansy, who spent the evening remarking how surprised she was that a Mudblood could look so decent; she seemed to take his gawking as a sign of his same surprise.

Fifth year he tried to lay low, thinking that his infatuation was being noticed by several people who would not only get back to his father but the Dark Lord. He spent a large amount of time trying to keep the Inquisitorial Squad from bumping to Hermione. When Marietta Edgecomb contacted them and Umbridge about a secret group and where to find them, he made a rash decision to contact his family's old houself, Dobby, to tip them off of Umbridge's raid. While Hermione remained uncaptured, he couldn't get her out of trouble when him and a few other IS members found them using Umbridge's office for the Floo Network.

Sixth year was worse than the previous 5 combined. When asked to take the mark, Draco knew he had no way of escaping the situation. When he was told to sneak the death eaters into Hogwarts and kill Dumbledore, Draco fretted over not only what would happen after the headmaster fell but he also found himself often lying in bed late at night worrying over what Hermione would think when she discovered he was a killer. Knowing that Hermione plagued his thoughts daily, he went to his aunt for help with Occulmency. He'd be spending large chunks of time with the Dark Lord now that he had a mark on his forearm and he wanted to ensure that when he poked around for information on his task that Voldemort would never wander over the wrong thing. Not only would that be bad for Draco - but he feared others knowing of his obsession with this particular witch would put her in harm's way as well. He not only had to be careful outside Hogwarts but inside. While at school he could feel the Golden Trio as well as a handful of the Professor's watching his every move. Occasionally he'd look up to find a look that almost seemed concerned etched across Hermione's features, as if she knew, as if she cared. But he the night of Slughorn's party when she showed up with Cormac McLaggen he almost lost his cool; of course she didn't feel any concern and worry for him.

All those years he could never quite put a finger on why Hermione was on his mind, teasing his senses at every turn. After Albus Dumbledore fell, even though Draco wasn't the killer in the end, he couldn't return to Hogwarts. That was when Draco realized that his obsession wasn't because of disgust, annoyance, or even curiosity. When he was lying in bed late at night he found himself worrying about her whereabouts and her safety. It was those nights when he would think back to their days at Hogwarts and reminisce over the good times and the bad because at least she was close enough that he could save her. It was after sixth year, when they were thrown into the midst of war instead of completing their seventh year of studies that Draco realized he actually missed Hermione Granger; he missed her beauty, her strength, and her temper.

The day that the snatchers showed up to the manor with the golden trio; Draco felt his heartbeat start to race with anticipation. The moment Hermione Granger entered the door to his childhood home, the racing stopped, immediately replaced with his world collapsing around her. He knew in that moment that what he felt for this witch was far from hatred. In that moment the only person in the world that he could truly say he cared about was in the most dangerous situation possible. When he had a free moment he apparated to Hogsmeade, ran to Hogwarts, and when he located Dobby, Draco informed him that he was the only one that could save Harry Potter and Hermione. When he reentered Malfoy Manor and saw Hermione trembling on the floor, it took all his energy not to hex his aunt across the room.

Draco stood confidently and started back into the dungeon room that his best friend was in. In that moment he knew what he had to do; he had to ensure that Hermione Granger was safe.

His best friend was still strapped down to the chair in the center of the room. He seemed to be recuperating well from the tedious torture he had endured and was quietly humming, as if content with the place his actions had landed him. Before Malfoy stepped into Blaise Zabini's line of eyesight his comrade laughed.

"Come on Mate. Might as well tell me! We both know that I will never see the outside of this room again."

"I'm rather talented with memory charms as you've noticed."

"Are you? Because I could swear she recognized me! Probably from the time that I fu - " His speech was cut off as Draco dropped his wand and instead went for the good, old fashioned, beating, punching him so hard across the face that Zabini spit a stream of blood and a tooth onto the floor.

"Fortunately for you, I have a plan and it requires you to be alive." Zabini looked curiously at Draco, whose turn it was to chuckle. "You see, I am going to be going on a little trip. And I need an inside man while I'm gone."

Without any further explanation, Draco Malfoy turned his wand on the wizard bound before him and muttered "Imperio!"

AN: Just to clarify:

Confractus and Transperforo are spells that I made up based on Latin. The Wizarding World is also unsure what exactly Dolohov's spell does...so I made that up based on the only evidence given.

Remember to let me know what you think! What do you think will happen next? Will Draco introduce himself to Honey? :D