I don't own Harry Potter at all and make no money here and everything ever belongs to J.K. Rowling. EVER.

AN: I apologize for not posting last night. I was halfway done with the chapter and decided it sucked and started all over again. So, hence the missed posting last night. I do hope you enjoy this rewrite, however. I worked super hard on it. All for yooooou!!!!!

Draco tried to at least look Potter in the eyes as he talked, but he avoided glancing at Hermione at all costs. There was too much at stake- his confusion (because he absolutely refused to attribute those feelings to his heart), his future, his father's future. So, he spoke to Potter like Hermione wasn't even there, although he noticed his father kept darting glances in her direction. (The hell.)

"Dad and I agree this is the best plan," he started out. "Things can stay…buried, if you want them to, but you'll still have any evidence you need if you decide to prosecute."

Harry gave him a skeptical look and he forged ahead.

"You should take our memories of those two weeks, and particularly of the night in question. All three of us- Zabini included. You can store them easily and always tell people at a later date- if you decide to bring it all out- that you were just investigating things on your own. As a favor to your friends, or something like that. You're the Head Auror, no one will question you- no one should, at any rate."

"But if you all are still here, still presumed alive-"

"Let me finish, Potter," Draco said and Harry shut up, waved a hand. Draco went on, "After you have the memories, you can help Zabini escape first. Ginny and Hermione have both said they don't care if he's brought to trial or not, since they don't want things dug up." Here he dared a glance at her. "Am I right?"

Hermione made a small noise that was probably agreement and he continued. "So, he goes first. Dad needs a little more time to recover, so we'd follow in our own escape a month or so later. All three of us presumed dead, out of your lives, the end."

"And the memories?" Harry asked. Something about the plan was niggling with him, making him question the Malfoys' motivations. He crossed his arms and gave Draco a direct look.

Draco returned it with a frown and a frustrated sigh.

"I already said, didn't I? You'll have them in storage and you can do what you like with them. As much as I'd love our family name cleared, it's not us who suffered the most during that time. And it's their decision."

Hermione decided she couldn't stay quiet any longer. She stared at Lucius and he returned her gaze calmly.

"Don't you want Narcissa's sacrifice known? Don't you want that much for yourself?"

Lucius gave her a knowing look and shook his head. "She's gone, and nothing I can do will bring her back to me. Her last wish was that your suffering should end, Hermione. This is the best way to honor her memory."

"By making me decide what to do."

Draco gave her a sharp look. Did she sound…resentful? After the sacrifice they'd just made for her peace of mind? He leaned towards her.

"We aren't making you do anything, Hermione. We're letting you decide. It should be your choice, since you didn't have one before. But either way, we'll be out of your life in another two months at the most. I apologize for not being more solicitous of your feelings in the matter," he finished heatedly, shoving his chair back and standing up.

"There. I've told you what I think is best. Dad agrees. It's up to you what to do about. I'm going for a bloody walk."

Before Hermione could say another word, the backdoor was banging shut and they could hear him stalking away off the porch and into the grass. Harry looked after him, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Hell," Hermione swore. "I…that came out wrong."

"Did it?" Lucius asked coolly. "So you want control of the situation, but at the same time you want someone else to make all the hard decisions for you."

Hermione's face went white and Harry glared at Lucius.

"That's not fair-"

"Life is not fair, boy," Lucius hissed at him before turning to Hermione again. "As well you know. Draco came to me with this idea because he thought it was the right thing to do. Keep in mind that it doesn't matter what you decide to do with the memories. Even if our name is cleared, he can never come back to it. Consider that before you accuse him of forcing anything upon you, witch."

Then Lucius was up from his chair and out of the kitchen. Hermione and Harry sat in silence, listening to his footsteps recede down the hall.

"Well," Hermione said softly after a few minutes. "I really can't do anything right anymore."

Harry gave her a sympathetic look. "That's not true. All three of you are incredibly stressed right now. I'm more surprised one of you hasn't accidentally killed another, than at this little argument."

"Little?" she said with a look at Harry that told him exactly what she thought of his descriptive skills.

"Little," he replied firmly. "You reacted poorly because you were surprised and you probably need some time to get used to the idea. But Lucius is right- there's absolutely no pressure on you or Ginny to bring it to trial again. Not if they're already gone."

Hermione nodded. "I know- honestly, I-" She broke off, stared at her hands. When she looked up at Harry again, her eyes were full of tears. "It's all so much, Harry. Finding all this out, and now to have their decision so soon afterward…I expected them to want to go to trial. I did. I never thought they'd both be willing to simply escape and be done with it, to give Ginny and myself the chance at peace, if we want it. It's so…"

"Out of character?" Harry provided and Hermione gave a half laugh.

"No…they've changed, I know they have. And it's a wonderful gift they're giving us. I just wasn't prepared for it."

"I think Lucius knows that," Harry said. "Even if he did have harsh words just now."

"Yes, but Draco-"

"He's younger. He doesn't see things the same way his father does," Harry explained. "I mean, here he was, making this grand gesture, and you go and bollocks it up for him-"

"Harry, what on earth-"

Harry looked at her pointedly. "Look, Hermione, exhaustion makes a bloke do funny things sometimes, and the Malfoys, Draco in particular, are as tired of this lifestyle of fear and running as you are. But there's only one other reason I can think of that he'd sacrifice this chance at freedom for himself and his father, access to their frozen accounts, the chance to go back to their ancestral home, to do magic again…"

Hermione swallowed hard and stood up. She knew where Harry was going with this and she didn't like it one bit. An accidental kiss was one thing. Imagined feelings were quite another.

She began bustling about, removing mugs from the table, cleaning away the tea items.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said.

Harry shrugged as if to say, alright, it's dropped. For now. After all, he was only Head Auror, not a relationship expert. But he was definitely going to be checking in on Hermione more often from now on. After all, he knew well enough that so much time in close quarters with the same few people could do strange things to one's head…and heart.

"So, that leaves your opinion on the matter," Harry said.

"I- what?" Hermione replied, startled. Needless to say, her mind had not been in the room. Not since Harry's so very helpful (by which she meant useless and distracting) observations.

"On what you think of their plan," Harry explained patiently, an amused smile on his face. "Do you agree with it?"

"I guess I have to," Hermione murmured, turning around. She washed the dishes quietly for a moment. Harry waited.

"It's a good plan," she finally added.

"I agree," Harry said. "Well, that's it. I'll head back, inform Zabini, talk to Ginny. Then I'll set things in motion."

"Alright," Hermione responded. She turned and gave Harry a hug good bye. "Thank you for coming out."

"Of course," he said, holding her close. "And don't let the Malfoys bother you any. Whatever any of you are feeling…well, who determines what's normal and what isn't in a situation like this one, eh?"

"Right. I'll keep that in mind," she replied wryly. Harry gave her an extra pat on the shoulder.

"Do that. I'll see you again soon. Cheers!"

Hermione waved to him silently, a small smile on her face, and watched him from the kitchen doorway as he walked down the hall and let himself out the front door. Then she returned to the sink and her thoughts, which were now as cloudy as dish water.

Harry passed Lucius on the way out and paused on the front steps.

"Hermione agrees your plan is the best idea," he called out and Lucius glanced up from the rose bush he'd been inspecting.

"How kind of her."

"Look, don't be a wanker about it," Harry said conversationally. Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't aware-"

"I know it's none of my business- except she is my best friend- and she'd probably kill me if she knew I was telling you this, but you should know why she was so upset, why she said the wrong thing."

"I'm listening," Lucius replied, giving Harry a bored glance.

Harry rolled his eyes and took a step towards the older man.

"She focused on that aspect of it, the memories, because she was so surprised that you'd decided to leave. She wasn't expecting it."

"Fascinating," Lucius murmured in that same droll tone, while looking anything but bored. He gave Harry a guarded look. "And you saw fit to tell me…?"

"Because," Harry began, smiling politely, "if you or that dimwitted son of yours hurts her during your short time left here, we won't have to fake your deaths."

Lucius smirked, gave Harry a gentleman's nod, and exchanged a long look with him. Then Harry turned and started down the driveway, leaving Lucius to smell the first blooms of the season. Honestly, he had no real idea of what was going on between Hermione and those three. If it was friendship, understanding born from shared experience or care giving, or something more. But he figured it was better to be safe than sorry, and he knew he would be calling Hermione more often in the coming weeks.

Friends looked out for one another. It was just what they did…even if it meant intruding on one another's business frequently and without apology.

Hermione had taught him that one, herself.

Hours later, once Harry had checked in with Ginny and begun making proper arrangements, he went back to her flat and released Zabini so he could let him know what was going on. Zabini took it all less than well. Now he was giving Harry a murderous glare, who had no trouble returning the look.

"Have a problem, Zabini?"

"So, you get to hold me hostage for days and now you're telling me what I will and won't do? I don't even have a choice?"

"No, Zabini. Sorry about that. Did I forget to mention that you're already a convicted criminal? So, no. You don't have a choice."

"I was innocent-"

"Of all the accusation, yes. But in not sparing Hermione and Ginny those final weeks- you're guilty of more than cowardice there, Zabini, and you should be grateful I've agreed to go along with the Malfoys' plan on this. If it were up to me I'd just murder you outright. Instead, you get a second bloody chance. If you know what's good for you-"

"What's good for me? I'll tell you, Potter. I'd rather be dead. And if you think I'll go quietly into some muggle lifestyle, you're wrong."

"It's that or back to prison, Zabini. Which do you really prefer?"

Blaise's nostrils flared in anger and hatred. He could see Harry was right; there were no other options.

"My mother is still alive. How can you do this to her?"

"And on her eighth husband with an arm around two precious step-grandchildren. She hasn't lifted a finger for you since getting out and she's worried more about her own comfort since her highly publicized battle with cancer. You honestly think she cares anymore?" A sudden thought occurred to Harry. "She knew, didn't she?"

Blaise backed away, rubbed a hand over his neck. "I don't know what you mean."

"She knew about this mess. And she turned her back on you. I know she went to visit you more than once. How did she find out?" When Blaise didn't answer right away, Harry waved a hand. "Never mind. It'll all come out someday. Even if it never goes to trial."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I already told you the plan, Zabini. You need written instructions?"

"No. But this isn't right."

"As if you know what's right or wrong anymore. Look, Zabini. I'll be perfectly honest. This is it. This is the best chance you have at making a life for yourself. Of breaking free from everything that held you down before, made you what you are- spoiled, rich, and now angry and bitter. You listen to me good, Zabini. Take this chance and be glad for it. Walk away and don't ever look back. Remake yourself. Your life here, in the wizarding world, is finished anyway. Stop trying to hold onto something that disappeared a long time ago. I'm going to help you get set up, I promise. Trust me, I hate it as much as you do-"

"I doubt that," Blaise whispered. "I highly doubt that. And ok, I'll go along with it. With all of it. But you listen to me now, Potter. You'll regret this. Someday, you'll regret this choice."

Harry drew himself up, towered over the other wizard. "Was that a threat?"

"Does it matter at this point, Potter?"

Harry eyed Blaise coolly, arms crossed and a hard look on his face. He took a deep breath. Blaise returned his look inch for inch; and both men knew that they'd reached an impasse. Finally, Harry tilted his head.

"I'm doing this only for the sake of Ginny and Hermione," he murmured, voice as cool as his eyes. "And it seems to me that if you ever try to make good on that threat, you'll be the one regretting it. Just like you are, right now. Regretting your entire pathetic life and all your stupid choices, I mean."

Blaise flinched and broke the gaze first, looking away to the floor. His shoulders hunched.

"Just tell me what I have to do, Potter. And for the love of Merlin, stop telling me what I should and shouldn't be grateful for. It may not have seemed like much of a life or future to you, but it was still my own and it's all I've known. Don't expect me to thank you for this so-called second chance."

"That's fair," Harry replied. "Now sit down and shut it and I'll go over what I know so far."

Blaise followed instructions without protest, for the first time in a long while. Then again, he knew one caught more flies with honey- and he certainly planned on catching a few flies, once he was free; because whatever Potter thought of his plan, of this opportunity Blaise should be so bloody thankful for…it wouldn't do. Not at all. And Harry would regret it someday.

But for now, he would sit and shut up and do as he was told. And then he would have his revenge. Somehow, even if it took him years…the people responsible for putting him in the disgusting cage of a muggle life would pay. Freedom, Potter called it. How humiliating.

Yes, Harry Potter would regret this. Even if Blaise had never been a Death Eater, himself, he knew the most basic rule: take no hostages. And if you do take hostages, you don't let them live.

Harry continued to outline the most pertinent details, staying alert for signs of trouble from Blaise, but for the most part willing to believe in man's better nature. Not everyone always got a second chance- something Harry knew only too well- and he was happy to try and help advance peace in the wizarding community, even if it was gained by releasing embittered men into the muggle community. Most of his escapees had gone on to be quite productive in their own ways, or at the very least to lead quiet lives. Harry hoped fervently that Blaise would be able to put things behind him and move on the same way; partly because he knew he'd been quite serious- he would, on the one hand, gladly kill the man if it meant keeping his loved ones safe.

He could only pray Zabini had made the distinction as well.

Hermione and Draco avoided one another the rest of the day, until evening was coming on and the sun was streaming its last bright rays over the horizon. Lucius wandered about the property and the house, keeping to himself and making occasional conversation with Hermione, when she could focus on him long enough. They even apologized to one another for their harsh words. But Hermione remained distracted for the most part, lost in her thoughts and confused feelings. And Draco stayed out of sight.

It was only after she'd prepared a simple dinner and left it to keep warm in the oven that Hermione finally ventured out to search for him. Her steps took her through the small garden in back of the house first, where she could see signs he'd been through- footprints in the grass here, a disarranged blossom there. Leaves plucked from a nearby bush, snapped twigs. Signs of anger, at first, followed by deep thought. As her fingers brushed a bloom he must have stooped to smell only hours before, she felt strangely close to him, and very sorry for her words earlier.

Even if she didn't believe Harry's stupid hunch, she knew that she and Draco had come to rely on one another for companionship the last few weeks and it was quite likely he'd wanted to…repay the favor, so to speak. To give her something in return for treating him like a human being. Friends could want that for one another, without it meaning anything more.

With a sad smile, she made her way from the garden towards the paddock, cutting through a field. And of course, there he was: leaning over the fence, watching two of the horses in the ring chasing each other about, playing a game. Being young and frisky, enjoying their time together. Draco's face was peaceful, almost wistful, as he watched them. One of the horses noticed her approaching and greeted her with a bright whinny. At that, Draco turned and focused on her, but the peace didn't leave his expression. She raised a hand in a tentative wave and realized she was still holding one of the twigs he'd discarded earlier, in the garden. With a slight flush, she tossed it away and then strode up to the fence to join him.

"Hello," she murmured, settling in beside him. He propped his chin on his arms again and continued to watch the horses, with only an eye roll to acknowledge her. But it wasn't hostile. None of it had been, really. All the attitude, all the arguing, the cruelty…it was the only defense mechanism he had left. They were strays. The same as her.

"I apologize for how I reacted earlier," she went on. He didn't respond. "It's a good idea and I agree that it's probably the best solution. And I'm thankful, honestly," she added.

He lifted his head, looked at her. "Then why-"

"I wasn't expecting you to make that choice," she admitted. "I thought you would stay on, fight it in court. And…it would have been difficult, and I don't know that I would have liked it any, but you and your father…your mother's memory- you deserve that much."

"Are you saying…no," he ended abruptly, shaking his head. There was no point even going there. She wouldn't miss them, no matter how hard he wished it. "I can see why you were surprised, then. But this is the best choice for all of us."

"Is it?" Hermione asked, facing him fully. He looked at her again, surprise plain on his face.

"Hermione…I haven't liked this. The entire situation- there's no way for this to not be humiliating. But you've done what you could to make it a little better, and after knowing what you've gone through…" He glanced away. "You deserve peace, too. This seemed like the best way to give it to you. You get rid of your semi-permanent house guests and the past in one go."

She let out a shaky breath and looked outward again, taking in the frolicking horses, the peaceful grazers. Their coats were lit up gold and orange in the dying light.

"Then thank you. I won't say anything else about it, if you don't want me to."

"I'd rather you didn't," he replied quietly. "Believe me, if things could be different…but they aren't. They never will be. This is the best I can do."

She made a face, like she was trying to keep from crying, and leaned over the fence again. She spoke again after a long moment.

"Funny to think of you living like a muggle."

"And just when you're getting your magic back," he responded. She rolled her eyes at him.

"That topic is also strictly off limits."

Draco snorted and they fell to silence again. Several more minutes passed.

"To be fair, I never exactly lost it," Hermione muttered.

Draco let out a sharp laugh and turned to her, a grin upon his face.

"No, you didn't, did you?"

"That's right. So you better be nice to me."

"Me be nice to you? What do you call-"

"I call it collecting what's due me for all the years of mudblood insults and thwarting my friends at every turn."

"Oh, I see. In that case…" He sighed grievously and propped his chin on one hand. "It's my last weeks as a wizard, you know. Don't I get to have a party? A grand farewell for the sacrificial lamb?"

"Princess theme do?" she asked sweetly and he laughed again. She felt her face split into an answering grin. "Come on, let's take this lot in for the night."

Draco pushed away from the fence and gave her an exaggerated bow in the direction of the gate.

"Your wish is my command."

Hermione waltzed past him, nose in the air, smirk on her lips. Draco glanced up from the bow and looked after her. The sun was streaking her hair the same shining jewel tones as her horses' coats; and it was bouncing up into natural waves, long held down by chemicals. And after her came the scent of orange and juniper.

He felt his heart do its strange little dance again and grit his teeth, then straightened up and followed her. If he had his way, these last few weeks would fly by in a barrage of perfect behavior and pleasant sunsets and shared smiles. Then he could leave and never have to know if what he was feeling was real, or imagined, and- if it was real- would she ever reciprocate.

AN: That wasn't so bad, was it? More tomorrow, I hope. As long as I'm happy with it. But I've set the next phase of my evil plan in motion with this chapter, sooo... *maniacal laughter*