Interrupted

Author's Note: Welcome back to Draco's POV. I was so pleased that you all thought Hermione's one-time perspective added some insight to the story. We've had a lot of feelings lately, so I think it's time for some plot! As always, JKR is the founder of Dumbledore's Army, of which we are all members.

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Draco was humming tunelessly to himself as he brewed a pot of tea, making sure he made it just the way Hermione liked it. They had spent the day trying out a series of spells they had researched on her forearm, and were both very optimistic about the results. She had used his mother's wand quite comfortably for the day, and they had even made some progress with the nasty word that had been carved into her. It was still red and angry, raised up from the skin like a rope brand, but it no longer had splintered webs of veins and dark magic crawling out of it. It had been a horrendous scar, and Draco was so relieved that they had been able to make a difference to it so far. Hermione was by no means vain, but no young woman would be able to live happily with that kind of hate symbol on their arm where it would always remind them of their torture.

He re-entered the living room with the tea things, smiling softly as he saw Hermione twirling the new wand in her hand and observing it quietly. He hadn't been sure whether he should give it to her, but in the end he had known it was the right thing to do. She had been living in his home for a long time without a wand, and for a powerful witch like her it must have been very difficult. He also liked the idea of his mother's wand being put to use by someone who deserved it, and someone he loved. He hated the thought of it just sitting in a cupboard somewhere gathering dust.

"Here we go," he muttered placing the tea down on the coffee table. Hermione smiled softly at him, putting the wand away and helping herself to a biscuit from the plate he had brought.

"Mmm… thank you."

"So I was meaning to ask you," he began with a little smirk towards her, "what on earth possessed you to take Cormac McClaggen to Slughorn's Christmas party?"

He saw her swallow heavily and look at him with wide eyes and a pink tinge blossoming on her cheeks.

"How did you know about that?" she asked in a small voice. His smirk widened.

"I saw him mauling you under the mistletoe when Filch dragged me in."

Hermione's blush darkened and she looked down at the floor.

"I thought he was the most likely person to annoy Ron," she said in a reluctant, gruff voice, "But in my defence, he had been practically throwing that cow Lavender Brown in my face for weeks!"

Draco knew that deep down he felt a twinge of jealousy that she had been so concerned about making Ronald Weasley angry that she had kissed someone she despised, but all he could summon was a slightly hysterical laugh. When she glared at him he tried to stifle it, but only ended up laughing harder looking at her slightly repulsed expression.

"Oh come on," he teased, "You have to admit that's hard not to find amusing. I can still remember him following you around for days afterwards. He came into the library once and pretended to read near us, but he had picked up a book on women's menstrual health in potions… I hadn't laughed as hard as that for ages, it made my week!"

Hermione gave him a begrudging smile, which soon turned into a genuine grin as she was infected by his teasing humour. She shook her head with a giggle of her own.

"I asked him what he was researching and he looked down at the book, went completely pale and said Cervical Strengthening Draughts – I think I almost wet myself," Hermione then mimed the expression on Cormac's face and they both erupted into more laughter.

"You sure know how to pick them," he drawled, taking a sip of his tea.

"I picked you didn't I?" she asked with an innocent smile. Draco laughed again, secretly pleased to hear her admit, even if only through implication, that she had actively and consciously accepted that she liked him.

"I thought I just imprisoned you in my evil lair," he replied, giving her a cheeky wink and watching in amusement as she rolled her eyes.

"This is the worst evil Death Eater lair I've ever seen," she commented slyly, "It's full of muggle books, a coffee machine, a television, a house elf who wears pink tutus and bosses you around, not to mention the scented candles…"

"Alright, alright," he whined with his hands in the air in a gesture of defeat, "I'm a terrible bad guy. I just like my captives to be comfortable."

Hermione burst into a fit of giggles, and Draco grinned as he watched the soft brown curls bouncing around her cheeks. Eventually she calmed down and looked around the room. Her gaze was curious, and she had begun to bite her bottom lip in an expression that seemed to show uncertainty.

"Draco…this cottage…Tilly said you were quite specific with how you wanted to furnish it."

Draco grit his teeth together, annoyed that his own house elf seemed happy to betray all his secrets because of her hero worship for the curly haired Gryffindor.

"I wanted to make myself a home, a sort of safe haven away from all the Death Eater activity. I guess once I fell in love with my new coffee machine I wanted to start experimenting with other muggle items. Turns out they're pretty good at making cool stuff without magic. They've found different ways of creating things, and transforming things without any spells! It's impressive."

As he spoke, Hermione's eyes had widened more and more until she was staring at him with a look akin to shock.

"Wow," she breathed in response, "You're just full of surprises."

Draco smirked.

"You have no idea," he said with a wink. Hermione huffed and shook her head at him.

"Ok, well what about the books? Look over there – you have the complete works of Arthur Conan Doyle. And Lewis Carol, and James Joyce…" Draco could tell she was about to keep ranting without taking a breath so he held up a hand.

"I read an American muggle novel last year, and it got me hooked. I asked Tilly to find all the most renowned novels written by muggles and add them to my shelves."

Hermione frowned at him.

"Which novel was it?" she asked a little suspiciously. Draco felt a bit of a nervous flutter, wondering whether his answer would give away his secret.

"To Kill a Mockingbird," he murmured quietly.

Hermione stared intently at him, and he could tell what she was thinking. The only reason he had read that novel was because he had seen her reading it one day in the library. Draco remembered being concerned that she hadn't visited her usual desk for a day or two, so he had gone wandering around the shelves. He thought maybe she had been annoyed by the group of hyperactive third years who were studying for a big charms test nearby, and had moved. After creeping around the library for a short time he had eventually seen her curled up on one of the armchairs near a window, surrounded by the towering alcove of herbology texts. He had hung back a bit, peering at her from around a series of flora encyclopaedia as she sat there engrossed in her book. He had enjoyed watching her for a while; her hair draped over one shoulder in a thick braid, and tied at the end with a bright red Gryffindor ribbon. Then after a few minutes she had shifted and squirmed in the seat, settling back on the cushions and raising her book higher, just enough so that he could see the title. He had been intrigued by the look of anguish on her face as she read. He wondered what would make her look so intense; she had almost drawn blood from her bottom lip she was biting it so hard. So he had read it. He had read this muggle novel that explored the dangers of prejudice and the pity of human nature, and he had been amazed at the insight of these muggles. It had helped to chip away another layer of his own hatred and confusion from his youth. It had also drawn him inexorably closer to her, even though she didn't realise it.

"That's strange…" Hermione started to say, frowning at him, and he knew that she was thinking along the same lines. He wasn't sure how much he could convince her to believe in coincidences.

Before he could chime in and try to direct her away from her suspicions, Draco felt a prickle of magic wash over his spine and he froze. He spent a few moments desperately trying to pinpoint what he was feeling, and when he did, he felt a wave of nausea and terror.

Fuck.

It was someone subverting his wards. The protections surrounding the cottage were still intact, but that little trickle of magic told him that someone had slipped past them, someone powerful enough to manipulate those wards to their benefit. He didn't know who it was, but somehow this person had managed to push their way almost right through and were nearly on the other side, ready to approach the house. The implications gripped him as he shot to his feet.

"Hermione-" he spun to her with wide eyes, his heart racing as he grabbed her shoulders. She looked at him in shock.

"What, are you-"

"You need to go hide right now."

He pulled her up from the couch and dragged her towards the bedroom even as she pulled back on his arm a bit.

"Draco, what's happening?"

He managed to get her close to the bathroom before she pulled her hand away from his stubbornly, waiting for him to answer her question. He spun towards her in frustration and waved his hand frantically towards the bathroom. They only had seconds before the intruder would come through the door.

"Someone is coming through the wards. They'll be here any second."

Hermione's mouth dropped open and she breathed deeply, pushing past him and towards the bathroom.

"Who would come here?" she asked.

"I have no idea," he whispered quickly, "No one knows the location of this place; they're breaking through the wards without my consent as we speak."

He saw her brow crease in fright as she backed into the bathroom. She retrieved her new wand from a pocket of her jeans and cast a disillusionment spell on herself. Once she was no longer visible, Draco took a deep breath and raised his own wand as he re-entered the living room. He stood with his arm poised high, ready to hex whoever came through that door. He even did a quick tidy of the room with a few sloppy spells to hide that there was a second person here.

His mind was racing with possibilities for who it could be. Maybe Lucius had tracked him down, or one of the other disgusting members of their brethren, wanting to disrupt his peaceful life for their own sadistic reasons. Maybe it was the Dark Lord himself, displeased with Draco's lack of enthusiasm lately, since he hadn't voluntarily shown his face lately at meetings when his presence wasn't demanded. Or it could be the Order, Potter or Weasley pursuing Hermione, hunting down what had happened to their friend. A hundred ideas rushed through his mind. His heart pounded painfully with the nervous anticipation of who would break through his door and fracture the beautiful peace he had made here with Hermione. He was standing on the balls of his feet just waiting for the moment the door would be splintered and broken in by a spell, ready to storm into his isolated little home.

Which is why he was so surprised when whoever the mysterious intruder was knocked sharply on the door.

Draco froze in confusion. None of those people he had just considered would knock. In fact, he couldn't think of anyone who would rap against the entrance like that; with a sort of firm politeness. He crept cautiously towards the door, preparing to open it. He was put slightly at ease by the fact that whoever it was hadn't just barged in. It made him curious more than anything.

When he twisted the handle and creaked open the front door, he squinted for a moment as slithers of sunlight blinded him, before the dark, ominous figure materialised into view.

It was Severus Snape.

Draco stared at him in disbelief for a few moments, his heart racing. He said a silent plea that Hermione would stay in the bathroom. Snape was one of the rare wizards likely to perceive and see through a disillusionment charm. He didn't want to think about what might happen if she was caught here. What did the old potions master want anyway? Had he come at the Dark lord's bidding? Draco had never really been quite certain where his godfather's loyalties lay. Even after the sour wizard had murdered Headmaster Dumbledore on his behalf, he had always had that nagging feeling that Snape's heart just wasn't in it. He knew that he probably had the best poker face in the entire wizarding world, but Draco also knew with some degree of certainty that Snape simply wasn't like the other Death Eaters. He had always been, if not overtly demonstrative or compassionate, then very protective and empathetic of Draco's feelings both as a child and as an adolescent. And there had always been an enigmatic quality to him that hinted at something deeper beneath the spiteful surface.

"Snape," he finally said with a tight voice, his throat dry as he looked directly into the dark obsidian eyes of his godfather. Where once the other man had loomed over him, they were now roughly the same height, as Draco had grown tall and slender over the last couple of years.

"Draco," he nodded politely in return, before falling silent with a look of contemplation that gave Draco the feeling he was being examined. He quickly remembered to bolster his occlumency walls just in case the dark wizard decided to try any mind-reading tricks. He wouldn't put it past him. When Snape didn't say anything further or offer any reason for his presence, Draco sighed as he realised the older man was waiting for an invitation inside. Of course he had to comply, he didn't want to make him suspicious. He hoped Hermione had the good sense to stay completely hidden.

Who am I kidding, he thought wryly, as if I need to worry about Granger's common sense.

In a slightly strained voice, he asked Snape to come in, stepping aside and allowing the wizard to sweep in, his cloak fluttering behind him in an all too familiar way. He oozed confidence and mystery, and it put Draco on edge again, his palms sweating at the very presence of the dangerous man.

"So…" he began awkwardly, not really sure what to say, but eventually settled on asking him with a casual drawl, "…you broke into my home."

Snape's eyes flickered quickly around the room before returning to Draco.

"It's not exactly what I expected from you, Draco," he said with a tiny frown that other people probably wouldn't have noticed, but Draco was well practiced in reading Snape's emotions. He just shrugged in response, trying to seem laid back and arrogant; his usual image.

"It's better than living with Lucius," he sneered, knowing that Snape already knew of his general contempt for his father. The elder Malfoy had been a source of mutual disgust for the two of them for a while now.

It seemed like the right thing to say, because Snape's shoulders relaxed minutely and he finally took a seat on the couch opposite Draco, folding his hands and placing them elegantly on one leg. His dour face took on an almost troubled expression then.

""Draco, he started with a dark scowl, "I have only recently heard of what happened to your mother," Draco felt his heart skip unpleasantly at the reminder. He hadn't been able to hold a funeral for his mother given the circumstances, so this overwhelming sense of grief that was stirred by other people's condolences had never been an issue. He looked to the side, staring at the wall instead of meeting the older man's eye as he continued to speak, "and I wanted to express my sincere regret that I did not do more to help her, knowing as I did the anguish and trauma she was facing."

Snape fell silent then, and Draco eventually worked up the courage to meet his cold stare right on. He wondered if he imagined the slight glint of sadness in his black eyes.

"There's nothing you could've done," he murmured awkwardly, and Snape nodded slowly.

"Nonetheless, I am sorry for your loss. Your mother was an intelligent, strong and fiercely protective woman in her prime."

His gut clenched a bit at the way Snape carefully added the words "in her prime" to remind them both how dark her last few months had become, and how it had warped her.

"So you hunted me down and broke through my wards just to give me your commiserations? That seems like an uncharacteristic move, even for someone who never valued my privacy."

Snape almost snorted at that, his lip twitching up at one side in a gesture of amusement.

"I will admit that I was curious about this place that you so frequently escape to, and which you have barely left in the last two months. Your absence has been noted."

Draco shuddered, hoping to Merlin that this didn't mean he was being asked to contribute more to the cause. He just wanted to remain the young rookie recruit with not much skill to offer, and leave it at that. If he did decide to kidnap Hermione and take her to Europe against her will, he wanted a decent start before they tried to hunt him down and disembowel him. And being known as a bit of a hermit would hopefully help to quash any suspicion about his absence when he truly was missing.

"Just noted?" he asked a bit nervously, trying not to let the anxiety seep into his forcedly casual tone, "or questioned?"

Snape pursed his lips, studying him with an air of one who could smell a rat about a mile away.

"Lucius was not pleased with how you left things at the manor. He has been hunting for your mother's jewels."

Draco felt a wave of savage pleasure seize him for a brief moment as he took satisfaction in the fact that he had gotten Tilly to rescue those items. It seemed his instincts had served him well in this case.

"He can go fuck himself, I don't owe him a damn thing."

Snape smirked a little, leaning forward in his seat.

"Temper, Draco. Don't worry, I saw what your anger did to him already. He never was good at healing spells, and his nose may not sit quite as straight as it used to ever again."

Draco grinned darkly, pleased that he had scarred his father in some way, though it would never make up for the psychological scarring that he had suffered at Lucius's hands. Snape raised an eyebrow wryly at him in response to his obvious pleasure at the idea of his father's permanent pain.

"So is my presence expected back at the manor?"

"By the Dark Lord? Or by your father?" Snape asked in reply.

Draco snorted softly, conveying his contempt for the latter.

"The Dark Lord."

Snape looked at him thoughtfully for a moment.

"You have not been mentioned by name. But you should know that he is rallying the Death Eaters for an upcoming fight. The Dark Lord believes that everything will come to a head soon."

Draco nodded, trying not to reveal the shake in his hands or the dryness of his mouth at the thought that he might have to get involved in a battle, and possibly be fighting for the wrong side.

"How's Hogwarts?" he asked, trying to change the subject so that he wouldn't be confronted by the harsh reality of his impending choice. Although this new topic was likely to be just as bad. But as he watched, he saw Snape blink tiredly a couple of times, taking in a deep breath, and it piqued Draco's curiosity.

"It is… still running, and that's the best thing I can say about it at the present time."

He seemed weary, as if it took all his energy just to think about the school. Draco frowned at him, and his godfather leaned back to observe him from under hooded lids.

"Do you miss it?" Snape asked a second later. Draco grimaced and gave a little shrug.

"Sometimes," he said, "but nothing on this earth could force me to go back this year. No offense to your skills as a Headmaster."

Snape almost smirked at that, and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He was clearly about to open his mouth to reply when his eyes flickered over to one side of the room where Draco had levitated the tea things hurriedly earlier. He saw Snape frown darkly, and his gut dropped as the older wizard began to look more closely around at the room. It seemed like minutes passed, but he knew it was only a few quick seconds before Snape returned his eyes to him. He looked distrustful and the tiredness had vanished from his black eyes in an instant.

"Draco…" he began in a low growl, rising to his feet with fists clenched.

"What's wrong?" Draco tried to ask nonchalantly, standing also.

Snape took a threatening step closer.

"Who's here?"

"What?"

He stepped closer again.

"When I arrived I didn't sense any other marked ones here aside from the two of us. So who's here?"

Draco looked at him with wide eyes, trying to sound innocently surprised.

"No one. Why would you think someone's here?"

"Don't take me for a fool, Draco. You have tea prepared for two people, still steaming slightly from the pot, and the indentations on the couch and positioning of the books lying around all suggest that there is another presence in the house."

Draco swallowed a bit, pretending to look casual as he shrugged.

"Well Tilly's here of course," he drawled, cursing Snape internally. Of course the bloody spy would be able to spot the minutiae of Hermione's presence in the house.

"Don't test my patience," his godfather growled, "I know someone is here. A witch or wizard, judging by the books lying around."

Draco was frozen with indecision. He wasn't sure how to handle the situation. After watching Snape carefully for a moment, he decided to try one more lie, hoping the spy didn't quite live up to his reputation.

"Okay. Well Blaise was here earlier today…" he said as if it was the most obvious explanation in the world, trying to keep his tone calm, "that's probably what you're noticing. He stopped by for a chat."

Snape was silent for a while, glaring at him suspiciously. His gaze was piercing in its intensity, and Draco concentrated harder on his mental shields just in case. After about a minute, Snape slowly raised his wand in the air. Draco's heart thudded as his godfather spoke the spell he had been dreading.

"Homenum Revelio,"

There was a rush of air and a couple of thuds, and the door to the bedroom swung open. There was nothing there. He had been terrified for a second that Hermione would have been pulled out from her hiding spot. Draco was sweating and his mind spun with ways that he could divert Snape's attention, ideas for getting him out of the house. He couldn't just hex him; Snape was one of the most powerful wizards he knew; he'd just trounce him in a split second.

"See? It must be leftover from Blaise…"

Snape shot him a furious look before turning back to the empty doorway with his wand still raised.

"Drop the disillusionment charm," the dark wizard snarled threateningly at the space in front of them.

Draco was watching in horror as he became aware of the slight shimmer of magic in the doorway. He stumbled forward a little, not sure what to do, his pulse racing in fear.

A couple of seconds passed, and then it happened. The space in the doorway bristled with refracted light as the disillusionment charm fell away, revealing Hermione standing there, her own wand gripped tightly in her hand. He saw Snape's eyes practically snap out of his head, his whole complexion turning from pale to chalk white in a split second.

"You," Snape growled in a hoarse voice, completely shocked by her appearance. The Gryffindor's eyes quickly darted over to Draco, and they shared a brief look of anxiety, before she turned the full force of her anger back on Snape.

"Yes," she spat in reply, "and don't you dare try to touch me or I swear I will hex your balls off before you can say quidditch."

If the circumstances were different, Draco would have laughed at that. If they both survived this shock, he had to remind himself to talk to her about her threatening technique, because it was much more amusing than it was scary.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" Snape shouted at Draco, and he flinched a little bit, trying to step sideways towards Hermione so he could stand between her and Snape's wand.

"Look, Snape, it's none of your damn business, so why don't you-"

"None of my business? Draco, you're a bloody Death Eater, just in case you've forgotten. So unless you're about to tell me that she's here as your prisoner, then we're all in a lot of trouble."

Draco and Hermione exchanged another look, and he stepped closer to her again. He wasn't sure exactly what to say. His godfather looked manic with anger, but he wasn't looking at Hermione with the usual disgust or contempt that you would see from a typical Death Eater. In fact, thinking back, Snape had never treated her as inferior. Annoying, yes, but never as someone lesser. Aside from his hatred of the students in general, he almost tolerated her. Draco took a deep breath, knowing that trusting his godfather might be a mistake, but he knew he couldn't lie convincingly and he was unlikely to win a fight, so he'd have to gamble with honesty and pray that Snape would be as compassionate as he remembered from when he was a boy.

"She's not here against her will," he finally admitted quietly.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise at his admission, and Snape seemed shocked too, giving Draco a chance to finally take the last couple of steps to stand cautiously between the two of them. He faced Snape with his hands raised with palms out flat in a reassuring, pleading gesture.

"Tell me everything," the older man snapped impatiently, his wand still gripped with white knuckles, pointing straight at his heart now instead of Hermione's. Strangely enough, that helped to settle his nerves. He didn't think Snape would hex him; they had always had a very affectionate relationship, and he was relying on that fact to protect them both for now.

"When the trio were captured and taken to the manor, the boys were taken to the cellar where they were later rescued by Dobby, but Hermione had been kept in the drawing room, and she was left behind-" he started to explain, but Snape frowned and interrupted with a sneer.

"I thought Dobby came back for her. Lucius said-"

"He was wrong. I lied about that. It was Tilly, not Dobby who took her and brought her here."

Snape's nostrils flared a little bit.

"What? Why Draco, right in front of your father and Bellatrix… are you insane?"

Draco sighed. He felt Hermione shift from foot to foot behind him and he knew she had always been curious about that very same question.

"She was being tortured to within an inch of her life by Bellatrix. I knew that if it kept going…" Draco took a deep breath, not wanting to think about the condition that she had been in when they got her out, "I had to act fast to save her, and the opportunity came up to do it without anyone knowing. She has been staying here recovering ever since."

Snape was pale and twitchy trying to absorb all that information, and its consequences. Draco sighed and stepped towards his godfather.

"Come on, Severus. Don't you fucking give me that look! You're supposed to be the intelligent one! Do you really think I'm like all those other Death Eaters? Do you think that's really me?"

Snape shook his head straight away, a look of certainty and almost pride in his gaze.

"No, I don't think that's you. You have never been your father's son. Much to his disgust."

Draco nodded in agreement. Lucius had often accused his mother of coddling her son,a nd making him grow up weak.

"However," Snape continued crisply, "there's a big difference between not wanting to torture people, and saving the life of a muggleborn you've hated since the day you met her. Not to mention risking your own life to do so."

Draco smirked slightly, remembering Hermione saying almost those exact same words to him weeks ago.

"Well I did. I saved her, and I've been protecting her ever since. And I will keep protecting her," he added the last bit with a slightly threatening tone towards his godfather, "the real question is… what are you going to do about it?"

Snape's eyes pierced right through him, the endless black stare making him shiver a bit even as he stood tall and let his body shield Hermione from him. The older man was silent for a very long time, before finally he spoke quietly, intently.

"So you two are…friends now?"

It was the last question that Draco would ever have expected from him. It seemed so out of character for Snape to ask something personal like that. His mouth dropped open a bit inelegantly as he looked at the dark haired man, feeling completely baffled.

"Uh…yes…I suppose we're…friends."

He sensed Hermione standing very close behind him, peering over his shoulder at Snape, just as puzzled by the question as him. He felt her hand touch his back gently in support and it allowed him to relax slightly. Snape's eyes traced over the two of them, before he narrowed them as if trying to work out a really difficult equation. He blinked a couple of time as his felt Snape's eyes bore into his own, and he realised what his godfather was silently requesting. It was risky, but he eventually nodded and opened up his mind just enough for them to touch each other's surface thoughts without going any deeper.

What's really going on, Draco? He felt the deep voice whisper in his mind and he shuddered at the unpleasant sensation. He could only get vague glimpses of Snape's emotions.

I already told you.

No you didn't. There's something missing.

Draco felt Hermione pressing harder into his back, obviously wondering what was going on as they stared at each other seemingly in silence. She touched her hand higher up his back between his shoulder blades, eliciting a small creeping shiver of pleasure.

Snape's stare sparked into a knowing look. Draco felt his heart thud as his godfather's eyes widened with total shock at his apparent revelation.

You're in love with her.

Draco blanched. Was he really so easy to read? Hermione hadn't been able to figure it out yet; at least he was pretty sure she hadn't. No wonder Snape was a master spy.

Yes, he eventually answered, simply and honestly.

Snape observed him for a few moments, his face still marred by a dark scowl of frustration and uncertainty.

How long?

Draco flinched.

Does it matter…?

How long?! Snape repeated, his voice echoing across their minds more severely.

About two and a half years, he admitted at last.

Snape wrenched himself back out of his mind then, leaving so quickly it made Draco's head spin dizzily. When he blinked back into awareness, he saw the wizard staring at him with something that looked like horror, and pity, and absolute desolation. Draco wasn't sure why the thought of him being in love with Hermione bothered Snape so much, but he was reacting very strangely.

"She's muggleborn," Snape murmured after a long pause, his voice quiet, but there was no malice or accusation in his tone. It was gentle, almost awed as he watched the two of them with something like understanding in his gaze. Draco frowned.

"Yes," he said slowly, hesitantly.

"And you…you're a Death Eater. How do you expect this to last?"

Okay, this time he definitely sounded more accusing. As if he didn't trust Draco to be able to handle it. As if he was a danger to them both.

"This is not the life I would have chosen for myself," he muttered, his face flushing a bit red, before he turned his own angry gaze back on Snape.

"And what about you? Are you going to turn me in?"

Snape sighed and started to pace back and forth across the living room. At least he had pocketed his wand. He huffed out a breath and turned back to Draco.

"Of course I'm not going to betray you, Draco, you're my godson. I can give you my word."

Draco sighed with relief.

"Thank you, Severus."

Hermione stepped up next to him, her hand linking through his and squeezing.

"How do we know you would keep your word?" she asked softly, encouragingly. Her tone surprised him. Now that the initial shock of his intrusion had faded, she seemed strangely calm. As soon as she had spoken, Snape turned his gaze on her for the first time in the last ten minutes. He had been so focused on Draco, and now he really looked at the curly haired witch beside him with a scrutinizing gaze.

"You are hardly likely to trust any promises I make," he murmured softly, and Hermione frowned at him, her lips pursing in that expression he knew so well. It was the look she got when she was unravelling a complex problem.

"You might be surprised."

"Why would you believe me?" he asked harshly, and Draco felt Hermione's hand clench his tighter. She still had that determined little pout on her face. He took a deep breath and watched her, as she looked their old potions professor up and down. If she had looked at him like that he would have shuddered with anxiety. He wondered why she seemed so comfortable standing there in the same room as Snape. Despite her initial fear, she had quickly let her body relax and accept the wizard's presence in the cottage without the terror he would have expected from her. He waited with bated breath as she seemed to reach some kind of resolution. Her eyes quickly flicked to his with the briefest twitch of a smile before she returned her gaze to Snape.

"Because I don't think you chose this either. I think Dumbledore wanted you to kill him. And I think you're still loyal to the Order."

…

…

Oh shit.

…

Ok guys, thanks for following. What did you think of our mystery intruder? This might complicate things for Draco! Please leave all your fantastic reviews, I love reading them!