Five Hours Later…

Harry Potter awoke to the sound of someone approaching his bed. His eyes opened to the usual blur and so he reached for his glasses on the bedside table. His wife Ginny, who had been draped across his chest, began to waken as well although with greater difficulty than Harry. Ever since she had fallen pregnant she found she was sleeping a lot heavier.

With his glasses now fixed over his nose he could see the outline of a man standing near the entrance to his tent. Only a faint outline of blond hair distinguished him in the dim light.

"You here to assassinate me?" asked Harry.

"You're having feelings of over-importance again," replied the shrill voice of Draco Malfoy.

"What do you mean?" said Harry sitting upright while gently guiding Ginny to turn over onto her opposite side to go back to sleep.

"Only important people get assassinated," explained Draco. "The others are just murdered."

"I'm guessing that since you're here you have something important to tell me?" said Harry sensing the worst.

"Cauldwell is dead," said Draco.

"What? What happened?"

"We were setting the Snitch bombs ready for the ambush when we were attacked. A Death Eater on a Centaur hit him with the killing curse. I think they wanted to capture me alive because they chased me rather than kill me outright. I had to use one of the last remaining Snitch bombs to escape. I killed four of them."

"Owen," Harry sighed. Harry's head fell into his hands with mortal regret. He sat there in bed silently cursing into his palms.

"I told you he wasn't ready for this," added Draco. "Hufflepuff students were always weak."

Harry lifted his head to look back at Draco. "Well we seem to have a shortage of Slytherin house amongst our ranks. Unless of course you have any recommendations?"

"Plenty," replied Draco. "I just don't think given the situation they'd be particularly interested in joining your little gang of would-be heroes."

"You're in that gang too," pointed Harry matter-of-factly.

"Yes I am," said Draco. "And the point I'm trying to make is that you need to start paying more attention to me so that we can avoid things like this from happening again."

"When you have something genuinely useful to say I'll gladly hear it."

"Can I leave now, boss?" said Draco sarcastically. 'Boss' was the name he had given their leader, Harry Potter. It was not with respect; in fact it was quite the opposite.

"I'm not stopping you," replied Harry and so Draco swooped out of the entrance to the tent.

He walked several paces away from Harry and Ginny's tent which sat almost in the middle of the small group of tents that made up the base camp for their resistance movement. There were nine tenets in all each one appearing smaller than they actually were, their insides being magically enlarged. Their current location was in a densely wooded area of southern Scotland. One thing the resistance had learned very quickly was to never get too comfortable with where you were one minute because the next you could be a hundred miles away. The resistance had to stay mobile to avoid detection.

"Draco!" called an inviting voice.

Draco looked in the direction from where it came. Standing in front of the second tent on the right of Harry and Ginny's was Hermione. She stood with a long thick jacket around her upper half making her appear larger than her otherwise actual small frame.

He began to walk towards her wondering what she wanted when he saw Ron Weasley appear from inside their tent. As he got near them he was sure he heard Ron whisper 'what did you call him over for?'

"We heard what happened to Owen," she explained. "Dean told us."

Dean Thomas had been on sentry duty around the camp when Draco returned alone. Naturally Dean was curious.

"Yes," said Draco momentarily looking down not knowing what else to say.

"How did you get away?" asked Ron with a tone that seemed to imply something sinister.

"They probably wanted to capture you alive," said Hermione.

"Even as the new Mrs. Weasley you're still smart," joked Draco referring to the recent marriage of Ron and Hermione.

"We should do something for Owen," suggested Hermione. "A service of some sort. Just something to pay our respects."

"I'll talk to Harry about it in the morning," added Ron.

"You need to have permission from Potter to hold a memorial?" scowled Draco.

"Nobody needs my permission to do anything," interrupted the man in question walking from his own tent wearing a thick robe from underneath of which protruded his jeans and a pair of slippers. It was hardly a warm combination and Harry's lower jaw appeared to be quivering in the chilly night air. Nevertheless he pushed through it to join his comrades-in-arms. "We'll have a memorial. We've forgotten about too many over the past four years."

"Who's going to speak at it?" asked Hermione.

"Who knew him the best?" added Harry.

"None of us really knew him at Hogwarts," she said thinking back. "He did spend a lot of time with Luna and Neville."

Draco scoffed. "Oh yeah, have numbty and looney talk about him. That'll be respectful."

"Fine!" shot Harry to Draco. "You do it!"

"Me?"

"Yes Draco, you! You were with him at the end therefore you should do it."

Ron jumped in. "Maybe you could go into more detail about how you got away."

Draco marched towards Ron and squared up to him. Both men found their fingers itching to go for their wands. "Something you want to say, Weasley?" Ron stayed silent. "I threw away everything for you and Potter and your band of little heroes. After four years if I haven't proven myself now I never will."

"Nobody forced you," spat Ron who still remembered that up until the last few moments of the battle at Hogwarts Draco was still in-effect the enemy. He was a Slytherin but not just any Slytherin; the son of the Malfoys themselves.

Before Draco could answer Harry interrupted, "Ron isn't it time you took over from Dean?"

"Not for another twenty minutes," replied Ron finally breaking his confrontational stare from Draco.

"Go now," instructed Harry. Ron didn't even hesitate and did as he was told slamming his shoulder against Draco's as he left. Draco didn't rise to this gesture instead he chuckled arrogantly at the childlike act. "You might want to get some rest."

"I don't need to be told that," said Draco. Harry nodded a good-bye to Hermione before he turned and started to walk back towards his tent where his pregnant wife remained asleep leaving Draco and Hermione.

"What do you see in him, Mrs. Weasley?" asked Draco referring to Ron who was now talking to Dean at the edge of the camp. Just like with Harry and the word 'Boss' so too did Hermione earn herself a derogatory title from Draco Malfoy in this case 'Mrs Weasley'.

"He was the most loyal friend I ever had," she said blushing slightly.

"And now he's more than that. Now he's your husband."

"What of it?" she asked sensing that she was now the focus of his attention in looking for another fight.

"You just don't seem suited somehow," he explained. "Truth-be-told I always thought you and Potter would end up as bed-buddies."

"I had no idea who I shared my bed with was such a fascinating topic?"

"Oh it's not," he replied slyly, angering Hermione in the process.

"You know you'd get along with people a lot better if you cut the arrogant attitude. Whether you like it or not you're one of us now. You need us for protection and things like food."

"It's not by choice," he said.

"Then why are you here?"

"You've asked me that a thousand times over the last four years, Mrs. Weasley," he said deflecting her question.

"Maybe it's because after a thousand times of asking I'm still yet to have an answer."

"Let me ask you something," he started to which she nodded her permission. "Why do you care so much as to why I'm here? Why can't you just accept I'm here and get on with it?"

"I just want to understand why?" she explained.

"Well you're smart, you tell me what you think and I'll tell you if you're warm or cold. What do you say?"

"I'm in no mood to play games with you Malfoy," she retorted.

"Shame," he said. "Could be interesting?"

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I can see now you're curious about the renegade who turned his back on his family and a life of fortune and power within the new order to fight the good fight with the noble Harry Potter."

"I'll tell you what I see," she said to him leaning in close until her lips were just hovering over his right ear. "I see a frightened little boy."

With that she disappeared inside her tent leaving him to angrily curse her name before uttering the word, "Mudblood."