A/N: Again, thank you for your valued reviews! You all RULE. Anyway, there's a short bit about someone here, just to tell you where she'd gone. Anyway, THANKS again for all your reviews!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Darkness filled the underground chamber, with enchanted torches acting as the very little source of light. He did not like much light; it burned his eyes and pierced his skin. Coldness was very palpable in the surroundings as a young boy's distinct voice echoed through the walls.

"It is done, My Lord."

He smiled cruelly, standing up and walking slowly towards the boy. The boy had very bulky features, but in his stupidity was eager to serve and please him, much like his father before. This was a test to prove his loyalty and courage, and to the Dark Lord's eyes he passed.

"It is beginning." He said, in a voice filled with hatred and obscurity. Footsteps were heard, hurried yet filled with fear as each step went closer. A man wearing a dark cloak bowed before him.

"We could not find him, My Lord." The man said, his eyes lowered to the ground. A dreadful echo filled the chamber as the man, in his final seconds, took in the sight of rough, gray bricks and a piercing green light that brought demise to him and delight in the other's eyes.

Mrs. Weasley hurried up the stairs, with Harry tagging along just behind her, both armed with their wands. They stopped dead in their tracks at the final step—Ron and Ginny were all right, but the usually ebony sky encrusted with white, shining stars exuded a fearful green color that meant only one thing.

"Harry, wait for Alastor by the fireplace, will you?" Mrs. Weasley said, stunned. She then approached her children. "Come with Harry downstairs." She told them, holding their hands. "I hope Hogwarts has taught you enough." She whispered, pushing them lightly to tell them to go down.

"It's starting, isn't it?" Ginny asked, fearful.

"Be safe." Mrs. Weasley said, tears brimming in her eyes, before disapparating to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place to alert the others.

"I hope Hermione's going to be all right," Harry said, still looking at the window, and the green light that the sign in the sky emitted. His heart was fearful that this sight had drawn out all the hope they had.

Hermione was alternating pacing back and forth and staring at the boy before her for the last few hours. She had sent him up to one of the bedrooms, and has successfully retrieved his wand as a safety precaution. She had cleaned him up, using magic of course, out of sheer human pity, but then she still didn't know what to do with him. She couldn't send him to the order, because she felt a bit inquisitive on why he was running. And although she didn't want to admit it, even to herself, she felt compassion towards the fact that he was truly helpless.

Harry told her what happened the night Dumbledore died, he said that it was Snape who killed him, and that Malfoy was reluctant to do so. And she held on to that fact, knowing that the boy before her might have something inside him rather than contempt and pride.

She sat beside him, still continuing to stare at his features. Suddenly his platinum blonde hair was tinged with a green light emanating from the window. She went near it hurriedly, fearing that the attack tonight was only the start. She glanced at him, still peacefully sleeping, much like the neighborhood before her, unperturbed by the sign. They all know it was coming.

She covered the open window with the green silken curtains, and turned on the lamp for light. She sat near him again, this time the soft cushions getting to her. She felt sleep overcome her and she finally gave in, closing her eyes and resting her head…

"Where is it?" She heard someone say as she opened her eyes groggily. Sitting up, she saw that Malfoy was checking the drawers and looking quite rested.

"Where is what?" She asked, yawning.

"Oh, you've woken up." He said unenthusiastically. He continued to rummage through, finding an heirloom or two and tossing it on the floor. "Have you seen my wand?" He asked finally.

She had his wand, but was unsure if she could trust him with it. After all, he still is Draco Malfoy, the boy who made her life at Hogwarts a living hell for the past six years. He still is a suspected death eater. "I'll give it to you once you've answered my questions." She said seriously, and he looked at her.

"Why should I abide by your terms, Granger?" He asked suspiciously, going near her.

"Because you are in my house, I have your wand, and I saved your life." She said proudly. For once, she was holding all the cards.

"I could call them, you know." He threatened, giving her a dark look. "After all—"

"You ran away from them last night." She said, cutting him off. Surprise was evident from him and it took him a few seconds to retaliate. Before he could say something, he flinched, and she saw him holding his side. When he removed his hand from the spot, he saw that it was covered in blood. His knees weakened, and Hermione immediately jumped to help him.

"Honestly Malfoy," She said as she helped him to the bed, "All you had to do was say something." She lay him down and unbuttoned his shirt. He immediately sat up, pushing her away.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked. "You…" But he couldn't say it. Not today, when he was at her mercy. And when she saved his life.

"What do you think?" She asked, flicking her wand. "Accio first aid kit." She said, and after a few seconds a white bag was zooming through as the door magically opened.

"You're not going to treat me with that," He said, looking at the white bag, "That muggle thing?"

She opened the bag and got a few bottles and some gauze. "I could let you die." She said, as if pondering on the thought. "But then I'd much rather torture you. Now let go, Malfoy."

He let go of his shirt, which he finished unbuttoning. A deep red gash was clearly visible, with blood flowing from it. Hermione flicked her wand to clean up all the blood, and then proceeded to pat the wound with the cotton ball immersed in alcohol. Draco flinched; he felt the sting from the wound, but then was too proud to let her know that it hurt. After a few more cotton pats, with a flick of her wand, a thread appeared and began to sow itself on his wound. She put the gauze over it when it was all done.

"I don't see any reason why to trust you." He said plainly, buttoning his shirt.

"I don't either." She replied, fixing up the bottles and placing the kit on the bedside drawer. "But then here we are. I'm not dead, and you're not in Azkaban."

Draco finally settled the row he was having inside his head. "Listen Granger, I need a place to hide. He would not expect me here," He said, looking at her. "With you."

"Oddly enough," She said, thinking. She remembered the door with the inscription and the emerald snake. "I'll agree."

She got up from the bed and opened the curtains. "On the condition that you will not try to murder me, like what you have tried before in Hogwarts, I'm sure," She said, turning to him. "And that whenever I have guests, you will remain invisible. For both our sakes."

He got up slowly, and walked towards her. He extended his hand. She gave a small nod, and then shook his. Their handshake lingered longer than it should, and it ended with him letting go of her hand roughly.

"I'm hungry," He said, trying to change the mood, and trying to be his usual arrogant self. But somehow, he sensed that she could see through that exterior.

"Why did you run?" She asked softly, ignoring his previous question.

"In due time, Granger. In due time." He replied, and then went out the door.

She did not know where to go, or where to hide. This was the safest place she knew. Cobwebs filled the whole room, and everything was dusty and gray. A broken picture frame lay on the floor, depicting a happy couple carrying their infant son.

But that was too long ago.

This place, though old and destroyed, brought warmth and solace to her. It reminded her of the days that they used to be free, the days they used to love. She had always loved their son, but he, after what happened, treated him as someone who could pass off the legacy that is their bloodline.

She closed her eyes and hoped that he was safe.

He walked down the marble steps, unsure why he felt an eerie familiarity to this place. It was as if he truly belonged here, that this place was calling him for a deeper reason rather than safety. He still didn't know why she was here, why she was the one here when he needed protection, why she had accepted him here in the first place. She hated him, he knew that, but…

"Malfoy!" Hermione said, catching up. "I figured you'd get lost in this place. How'd you know where to go?" She asked.

"I never get lost." He stated proudly, and continued to walk down. Suddenly he heard a loud whoosh, and ducked down to see what it was and if it was dangerous. The next thing he saw was a raven-haired boy stepping out of the fireplace and beaming at someone in his direction.

"Potter?" He whispered.

"Harry," Hermione said breathily, smiling nervously as he proceeded towards the stairs.

Will Harry catch Draco hiding? Review to find out!