AN: This chapter contains some torture, but should be the end of it for a while.

Chapter 2: Aliance

Hermione is woken by her own sobbing. Images of her parents bodies swimming in her mind. Her lips ach at the sound, already cracked and bleeding from the combination of torture and dehydration. Time has lost all meaning.

"It's been two weeks," a voice says. It's close. She casts a weak glance around her cell, too sore to move at this point. There is a chair in the cell, in it sits a boy who has only been an enemy. "Your precious Potter and Weasel haven't come to save you," Malfoy sneers. "Perhaps they don't care for you at all."

"Good," she whispers.

"What was that?" He stands.

"Good," she tries to make her voice louder, but the parched throat refuses. Malfoy cocks his head to the side.

"Do you have a death wish, because you are very close to be granted just that?" Hermione shakes her head slightly. "If Potter and Weasel get on that train in one week...your use will cease to exist and they will kill you."

"I know."

"Then why? Why do you let this go on? This war will be lost no matter your sacrifice here."

"Perhaps not."

"We both know those idiots wouldn't last a month past Dumbledore's death without you. I guess you're right, the war will not be the same, it'll be won sooner."

"Maybe."

"You're bloody hopeless. Reverse the spell."

"I can't," she whispers, not for the first time at his many requests.

"I don't believe you," Malfoy shoots back. "To go back this far in time without a way to return would be bloody stupid. And you are a lot of things Granger, but stupid isn't one of them. So reverse the damn spell already!"

"Stupid?" she mutters. "No, just desperate. I would have died there just the same and maybe I will here too, but at least there is a different chance now."

"Granger," he growled. He looms over her.

"It's a one way street," she says. He funnels his frustration into a hard kick in her stomach. The pain would be excruciating if she hadn't been suffering through Bellatrix's crucios several times a day for the last two weeks. Now it feels mild and she barely winces.

Malfoy storms out of the cell and halfway down the hall before pausing. He braces a hand on a wall as he starts to shake. He is who he has to be, what he has to be to survive. But being back here hurt like a Cruciatus curse.

Hermione's mind falls into a daze after he leaves, exhaustion taking all thought away leaving her awake, but not really. Bellatrix comes in, screaming about it being too quiet and then does her worse. Food appears every couple days. Over and over.

A chill settles in as the gate clangs open again. Hermione does not look, just waits for curses.

"Mudblood," Voldemort's voice slithers down under her skin. "Something was taken of mine. What do you know of it?" Taken? Her mind struggles to comprehend. Then pain, only pain. It is much worse than Bellatrix's. Somehow, amidst the blinding agony, it clicks. The ring. The Horcruxes. Dumbledore must have destroyed it.

"Dumbledore," she shrieks as the thought comes into her mind. Voldemort lifts his wand.

"What was that?" Her mind races.

"Dumbledore. He's must of taken whatever it is. He's the only one who doesn't fear you," she says. Pacifying him maybe the only way to avoid more pain and, Merlin help her, if she could do that without risking more lives she will. Red eyes stare into honey and a different pain rips through her head. Images of Dumbledore flash across her mind, searching for any indication for what the Headmaster had planned.

"He is a thorn in my side," Voldemort says, releasing her mind. Hermione sags further into the concrete floor.

"He will be dead by the end of the school year," she mutter to herself, not realizing she spoke aloud.

"What was that? Is the little mudblood turning on her own to save herself?" he laughs. It takes only a second for what he says to click in her head. He thinks she's offering to kill Dumbledore. Maybe there is a way out of this.

"Yes," Hermione says quickly. "I will take him out, just spare me." She begs. Hermione never planned on begging for her life. When the end came, she planned on fighting till her last breath. But if begging could get her out of here, let her win this war-then beg she will.

"So quickly you turn on your own?" he questions.

"Please…" she stalls. What could she say that would convince him? "I don't want to die and...and no one is coming." The truth. Voldemort cackles, her desperation pleasing him.

"Perhaps we have a deal then, given that you make an unbreakable vow." Her breath catches and his red eyes take in the pause all the way to the nod of her head. He laughs again and it's harsh on the ears.

Voldemort calls Malfoy to come and it is mere seconds till the boy appears.

"Yes, my lord," Malfoy bows.

"The mudblood will enter into an unbreakable vow to kill Dumbledore," Voldemort replies. Malfoy's eyes snap to Hermione. 'Kill?' she pales as the thought sinks in. She couldn't vow to kill the man.

"I may need help," Hermione mutters. Malfoy's gaze grows angry, lips in a tight line. Voldemort also turns back to her.

"Help?"

"I...I just don't know if another may have to assist in the method so if I let a house elf give him poison or something...I just want to make sure that I have...erm...options and...er...time," she says. He cackles.

"Very well. You will swear to that he will be dead and you have to end of the school year. Draco?" he motions him forward. Draco takes her hand and Voldemort raises his wand at their hands.

"Will you, Hermione Granger, guarantee that Albus Dumbledore, the Hogwarts Headmaster, meets his end before the school year lets out?" Malfoy asks.

"I will," the witch replies, ribbons of magic constricting around their joined hands.

"And will you keep this secret from those not already informed?"

"I will."

The magic burns for a second, then Voldemort pulls his wand away.

"Draco, have her cleaned up," he orders. "She will leave on the train with you in two days." And then he's gone. A chill settles into Hermione's bones as she realizes what she's done. Malfoy grabs her arm, pulling her to her feet, but, her legs can't support the weight. The witch hasn't done more than thrash on the ground in almost three weeks. He sighs as she collapse back to the ground.

"Gingy," he calls out. Crack. A small house elf quivers before him. "Get the mudblood cleaned up and ready for travel." The elf nods and Malfoy turns away. "I hope you know what you're doing," he mutters and then he's gone too.

Gingy bathes Hermione in cold water and gives her clean clothes. A few potions are provided so the young girl can have the strength to walk on her own. Gingy also brings her truck of school supplies and robes. The wand missing from her things. By the time Hermione is cleaned and dressed, it is time to go. Gingy takes both students to the platform with a pop. He tells the elf to store the trunks. Hermione takes a step away from his suffocating presence only for him to pull her back to him with a strong grip on her arm. She bumps into his hard chest and stays there.

"We need to talk, Granger," he whispers in her ear. "And soon. Come to my compartment once the train leaves the station or I will snap your wand." Hermione's top lip pulls up over her teeth and her eyes narrow, but she still nods.

"Get your hands off her, Malfoy," Ron snarls from behind them. Malfoy spins them around to face the redhead before pushing Hermione away from him, causing her to stumble into Ron's arms.

"You can have your mudblood back," Malfoy taunts. "She was quite the guest." He raises an eyebrow, adding a lewd tint to his comment. Ron is fuming, but Malfoy walks off before he can retort.

Hermione turns and throw her arms around his neck, cling tightly, finally releasing a few tears.

"Goodness, Mione, you might want to let him get some air," Harry says as he appears beside him.

"Oh Harry," she says and releases Ron to pull him into a hug. Harry raises his eyebrows at Ron and pats her back awkwardly.

"We...erm...missed you too," he says.

"How was the extra time with your parents?" Ron asks. Hermione reeled back at the mention of her family.

"Extra time?" she questions.

"We totally understand you wanting to spend the rest of the holiday there instead at the burrow with how everything has been…" Harry trails off. Tears slip out of her eyes, running down her cheeks.

"Mione?" The whistle on the train blows, signalling the immediate departure. They quickly board the train and find a compartment right before the Express starts to move.

As the last of the station fades out of view, Hermione stands. She hasn't said a word yet, but she hasn't stopped crying either. Both boys look at her.

"I...erm...need a minute," she says. They nod as she slips out. Traveling down the cart, she finds the open door with just Malfoy inside.

"I was starting to think you didn't really want your wand back," Malfoy drawls as Hermione joins him in the compartment. She close the door behind her and hold out her hand. "Crying?" he asks with disbelief. "Guess Potter and Weasel didn't really want you back after all."

"My wand?" she requests, her voice thick. His eyes narrow and she feels naked under his calculating gaze.

"We need to talk," he says, motioning to the bench across from him. She sits and looks expectantly. "What does this spell do? It obviously does more than just send us back, because the events have been changing."

"It gives us a chance," she whispered.

"Wow, so descriptive," he sneers. "Got any other information?" She glances into his cold eyes, but doesn't reply. Malfoy smirks, "I see your precious Gryffindor boys didn't really care to get you back."

"That's enough. I'm leaving," Hermione says as she stands. Malfoy tenses. The witch's warborn senses pick up the change and rushes for the door. His arm reaches out and wraps around her stomach, pulling her away from the door. He is solid, with strength she didn't know he had, too much for the girl with only potions holding her standing. The contact makes her breath catch, pain radiating out from where his arm connected. She whimpers as Malfoy pushes her back into her seat.

"What's wrong with you?" he snaps. Hermione shoots him a glare but doesn't reply. Out of instinct, her hand reach to cover her stomach, the pain still pulsing. Malfoy is quickly standing over her. She tries not to squeak as his hand reaches for her, not quite succeeding, and she backs into the corner slightly more. He rolls his eyes, but don't seem to take notice otherwise. His fingers clasp around the bottom hem of her shirt and pull it up three inches. Across her stomach, reaching up over the left side and down to the hip, a black and purple bruise stands out from the pale skin.

"What is this?" His voice comes out angry and harsh.

"You," she throws back. When his eyes snap to hers, she continues, "You did this." His eyes bore into into the honeyed brown of her own. Images flash across her mind unbidden. Malfoy telling her to reverse the spell. Dumbledore telling me the cost would be great. Malfoy's hard kick when she tells him there is no going back. The images are swept away and Malfoy is stumbling back from her, wand in hand. Shock crosses his features.

"There really isn't a way back," he says. She nods, but…

"You looked in my head?" she accuses him. He has the good sense to look ashamed, but that only lasts a second before there is no emotion at all.

"So?" he replies. Hermione attempts to stand, stand and face him, but the pain pulls her back to her seat. "I told Gingy to get you ready for travel. That stupid elf!"

"Don't you dare blame this on her. She didn't know what you meant. She kept apologizing for not doing more, but she was scared that if she healed me at all that she would be used as crucio practice. Again." The witch's anger just as obvious as the wizard.

"If she thinks this," he waves at her, "is fit for travel then she should be used for practice."

"Don't you dare," she threatens again.

"Or what? What are you going to do Granger? You have no idea what you just got yourself into and the only one who gives a shite and knows anything is me." He finishes his tirade close to her face. The blood pumping hard and providing color to his pale skin. He pulls back and sits down across from her.

"You don't give a shite," she says evenly.

"If you fail, I will be punished. So yeah, I want you to succeed. As much as failing would mean the end of you, it would mean the end of me too." His voice and features are controlled once more.

"Fine."

"So we need to talk about your plan. And how you plan on keeping it from your golden boys."