Chapter Fifteen

I hope you don't mind me being a bit sly with the way I have manipulated time to make things run more smoothly. I was pleased to see everyone so happy with Dobby's inclusion. Poor Dobby. As always, JKR is the true master of the house elves.

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Hermione stared out the window with a growing sense of trepidation. The white sands stretching out into the distance seemed almost grey in the sickly early morning light of a cold dawn.

Shell cottage was a haven, isolated from the cruelty of war. It reminded her a bit of the little house in the valley that they had made their own over the last couple of weeks. Everything was cosy and personal, a sanctuary that Bill and Fleur had filled with an almost indefinable air of love. It had felt almost wrong somehow to invade their peace. To bring their conflict and pain here to tarnish such serenity.

Hermione watched in concern as her messy-haired friend wandered aimlessly around the rolling dunes of the beach. Her forehead was propped against the glass of a window in one of the spare bedrooms. Her breath fogged up the glass in restless sighs but the sound of Draco snoring gently on the bed behind her kept her mostly grounded. But still her eyes were fixed on Harry, meandering around the sandy planes below her. There was too much weight on his shoulders. And as furious as she has been with him lately, her heart ached for him too. From what she had learned last night, it seemed as though he had a difficult choice to make, although no one else in the house truly realised it. Not even Ron, she thought, who remained oblivious to anything except his own feeling of guilt.

Horcruxes or Hallows…?

Hermione shuddered, tugging the thin woollen blanket tighter around her shoulders. She didn't think she would ever forget the look on Harry's face when she had first raced into the kitchen at Shell cottage in the middle of the night. Andromeda had taken them both there after they received word from Dobby that his operation had been successful. The gutsy little house elf was now enjoying a well-deserved and entirely decadent feast of all his favourite things back at their home in the valley. She had practically thrown herself at Draco when he suggested that Dobby might like to stay with them and do some housework for a reasonable salary. The elf's face had lit up like a burst of sunshine. To choose to work freely for money while also serving his true master was a dream come true for him. And that was when it had hit her. Hermione had realised briefly for the first time that she might actually be in love with Draco Malfoy.

Brushing aside the memory of this revelation she focused on her friend again, burdened by prophecy and the expectations of the wizarding world, as well as his own twisted sense of obligation. She regretted making things more difficult for him, but her emotions had overwhelmed her when she entered Shell cottage. His features had lit up, eyes going wide and so hopeful she had almost felt a twinge of remorse for her next actions. But even as he had gasped her name in relief and rushed forwards to embrace her, Hermione's anger had gotten the better of her. Before he could hug her she raised her hand back and slapped him hard and stinging right across the cheek.

"You selfish, stupid bastard!" she had choked out, seeing Harry's face crumple with shame even as his cheek flushed bright pink from being struck.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione..."

"Sorry? Sorry? You left me behind! You wrote me a measly little note! Which I should mention half the bloody Order has read!"

She noticed Bill squirming a bit in the background but stubbornly ignored him.

"I was wrong. I made a mistake. Almost as soon as we'd left I regretted it," he had told her in a croaking whisper, his eyes prickling with tears, "And when we were trapped in that cellar and thought we might die at any moment, all I could think about was how I'd let you down…"

His voice had hitched then and he had been unable to go on. And it had broken through all Hermione's lingering bitterness. Harry flinched when she moved suddenly, but she no longer wanted to slap him silly. It was like a flip had switched, knowing that he could have died tonight. She threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly, feeling him return her embrace gratefully where they stayed for at least a minute without separating even an inch. She caught Draco's jaw twitching and saw him glaring at her friend and she had rolled her eyes, finally releasing him from her stranglehold.

"What the bloody hell happened?" she demanded as soon as she caught her breath again. It was then that she had noticed Ron moping in the background. He was shooting hostile looks in Draco's direction but otherwise just looked completely defeated.

"It was my fault," he had admitted in a despairing voice, his face ashen white, "I said his name. I nearly got us killed because I was such a fucking idiot. I'm sorry, mate…"

He had been unable to continue then, dropping his head into his hands and sobbing. Bill had stepped in to comfort his younger sibling, drawing him into the next room to give him what Hermione assumed was one of those wise big brother chats.

Hermione pursed her lips and pushed away from the window of the spare bedroom she and Draco had retired to after everything had settled down. Slipping her shoes on she made her way silently down the back stairs and out the door, plodding over the sand towards the spot where Harry had been meandering moments before. She clung to the blanket that was wrapped around her small body and cleared her throat softly when she reached her friend.

Harry lifted his head and gave her a small smile, though it looked more like a pained grimace. There were dark rings under his eyes and she noticed he kept rubbing unconsciously at his scar.

"I've been a terrible friend, haven't I?"

Hermione chuckled and walked over to stand next to him. They both turned to stare out at the horizon as the sun peeked up, orange and warm over the endless sea.

"You wanted to be loyal to Ron and he needed you. I get it. But that doesn't mean it didn't sting," she told him in a low voice. She felt him cringe a bit next to her.

"You've always had my back, you know," he said mildly, and she could see his hand curling into a gentle fist at his side, "You've always fought for me and protected me, even against myself sometimes."

"That's what sisters do," she told him, bumping her shoulder against his affectionately, referring to an old joke between them from years before. When someone had once asked them if they were a "couple" they had both turned to each other with matching looks of disgust, before laughing at themselves. They had mutually agreed at that point that their relationship would always be more comfortable as a sort of brother-sister bond. It suited them well. Harry had grown up isolated in such an unpleasant environment and Hermione had always been alone, whether because she was an only child or because she struggled to make friends easily.

"You must despise me," he murmured, causing Hermione to turn to him again and reach down to take his hand in hers.

"I'm not stupid, Harry. I get it. It must have been really difficult for you to accept that I might be with Draco… there's so much history between you both and he really was an absolutely vile little prat when we were younger."

Harry snorted, giving her a little smirk, but she continued before he could interrupt, "But you needed to trust me, Harry. Draco doesn't mean us any harm. And I think that everyone has the right to earn forgiveness. Everyone deserves a second chance."

Harry nodded quickly, giving her hand a little squeeze.

"I know. I get it now. It was Malfoy who sent Dobby to save us from the manor, wasn't it?"

"How did you know?"

"Dobby told us," he said with a rueful little grin, "he burst in and announced that Master Draco was going to save us. Ron nearly had a heart attack."

Hermione laughed softly and shook her head.

"Draco's endured…truly horrific things. He's not the same person he once was," she told him gently, watching warily for any sign of his old hatred, but her friend just appeared tired.

"I know. You wouldn't be friends with him otherwise."

Hermione bit her lip worriedly and peered up at him from beneath her eyelashes.

"Harry…um…the thing is… we're not just friends. I swear I didn't lie to you that morning. We weren't really involved or anything then. But since you left, it's just been the two of us…and well…we kind of…got together…"

Harry laughed at her, tugging her closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"You're rambling, Hermione," he told her with a fond smile, "And it's okay. I already know. I could hardly miss it. You guys kept staring at each other like a pair of lovesick fools earlier. It was gross, actually."

Hermione rolled her eyes and dropped her head onto his shoulder.

"And you…don't mind?" she asked nervously, knowing that even if he did have a problem with it, she was in too deep now. She was with Draco whether he liked it or not, but she would prefer to have his support than to keep up with this conflict.

"I can't promise I'll ever be best mates with him or anything, but it's your choice, Hermione. I need you in my life. I realised that the moment we left. And if that means Malfoy comes as part of the package then I will accept it, accept him. "

Hermione snuggled deeper against him, a smile spreading across her lips.

"I need you in my life too, you big dope," she told him and felt his chest shake with a gentle laugh.

"Although I wouldn't count on Ron jumping on board anytime soon," he commented more seriously, "He's…well, he's been unusually morbid lately. It was like being stuck with that horcrux around his neck all over again."

Hermione hummed sadly, wishing that there were a way she could turn back the clock on her relationship with Ron to a time when their friendship was young, carefree and uncomplicated.

"I'm sorry he's hurting," she confessed in a soft voice, even though she refused to feel guilty about what she had with Draco. She'd never felt that way about Ron. It was better they find that out now before it got even more complicated or messy and they figured it out the hard way. That didn't mean she felt any better about breaking his heart, though.

The two friends were silent for a long time, snuggled close together as they watched the sky turn pink and the morning light wash across the beach like vibrant brush strokes. Eventually Harry cleared his throat again and shuffled from one foot to the other.

"Hermione… do you think that Malfoy would be willing to talk to me about his aunt?"

"Bellatrix?" she asked with a frown, "Why?"

He let out a breath that sounded exhausted to her ears.

"She seemed…obsessed with the sword of Gryffindor. She kept screaming about us breaking into her vault at Gringotts, and was genuinely afraid we had been there. I just wanted to see if he knew anything about it."

Hermione contemplated his train of thought for a while, her brows furrowed. It didn't take her long to work out what he meant.

"You think she might have a horcrux in there?"

Harry nodded slowly.

"Maybe. Lucius had the diary, after all."

"Makes sense," she said thoughtfully, cocking her head to the side, "He doesn't like talking about her, but I'm sure he'd share what he knows if it's relevant."

"Okay, sounds fair."

"Does this mean you've decided to go after the horcruxes…?" she asked warily, fearing that his recent preoccupation with the deathly hallows might still be blinding him to what was really important.

"It's what Dumbledore wanted," he said finally after a long pause. Hermione stayed silent. She didn't want to gloat or say 'I told you so', but she quietly approved of his choice. Instead she just gave his hand another comforting squeeze and continued to watch the day dawn bright and beautiful across the shores of the beach.

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Draco watched the boy sitting across from him with wary eyes. The bedroom was small and they were sitting all rather close together, making him feel somewhat uncomfortable. Hermione was pressed close to his side, though, which gave him strength, making them seem like a united front before the bespectacled wizard sitting opposite them on a rickety old chair. Potter had the eyes of someone who had seen too much. Draco recognised that look all too well because he saw it in himself every day. But otherwise the boy didn't seem nervous really about being here, although he did swallow visibly as his gaze darted between his curly haired friend and the Slytherin whose hand she was holding onto.

For his part, Draco wasn't sure how to feel about this sudden reunion with his old school nemesis. He'd always hated stupid Potter and his self-righteous, self-sacrificing drivel. But he knew that Hermione loved him. Despite everything that had happened and her anger towards the boy, he was her family. So really he should swallow his pride and try to keep his calm if he wanted to make her happy. Easier said than done.

"So what's the big mystery, Potter? Why all the secrecy?" he drawled, leaning back a bit on the bed and giving a cocky sneer. He knew that something important was happening; the room was practically vibrating with the magic of Hermione's wards.

"Firstly, I thought I should probably thank you for your help saving us last night…"

He shrugged casually with one shoulder.

"It was all Dobby, not me."

"Yeh, but Hermione said it was your idea to send him in for us. I…er… I appreciate it."

Draco remained silent, giving a terse nod in acknowledgement but choosing not to say anything. He didn't exactly want to be swamped with gratitude from Harry bloody Potter. This was the same tosser who'd almost killed him in that girls' bathroom only a year ago. The scruffy-haired boy squirmed awkwardly for a while before clearing his throat to speak again.

"Anyway… I'm here because I wanted to talk to you as well. I was hoping that you would be able to answer some questions I have about your family."

Draco immediately tensed up in response to his request. He glowered at the other boy, jerking forwards to sit upright on the bed.

"What? Why would my family be any of your bloody business?" he spat. He felt Hermione's hand rest down on his arm gently, trying to keep him calm but his muscles were taut and on edge.

"Draco-" she murmured softly, as Potter grimaced in frustration.

"Look I know you don't want to talk about them. But it could be important. I'm trying to defeat You-Know-Who and I don't have time for you to be a selfish prat," the boy argued. Draco scoffed.

"You're just as bad as the rest of the bloody Order," he retorted snidely, "You think you can interrogate me because I'm just some no good Death Eater."

"Technically you are…"

"Yeh well I never wanted anything to do with them, alright? I didn't want this."

"But you still might know things that can help. Lucius is your father so-"

Draco stood quickly and whipped out his wand, pointing it at Potter's stupid face. He had just escaped another prison and he wasn't about to let this wanker treat him like he was the scum of the earth again. Behind him he heard Hermione groan but he couldn't focus on her when the mere mention of Lucius had made him see red.

"Don't you dare talk about my father. You don't know shit about me or my family, Potter. So stay the hell out of it."

Draco realised that he was shaking as he pointed his wand at Potter. Hermione's hand had tightened its grip on his arm to the point that he could feel her nails digging into his skin. Just as he was starting to regret losing his temper, he felt a rush of air and his wand whipped out from his hand. Potter deftly caught it in mid-air.

Draco's mouth dropped open. He hadn't even seen Potter slip his hand down to his own wand and cast a lightning quick, wordless disarming spell. There was clearly a reason he always did so well in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Give me back my wand," he growled. Potter raised his hands in the air, displaying both wands freely. His expression was surprisingly calm.

"Fine. But can you please just promise to listen? I don't want to fight with you. I'm just trying to figure something out, and Hermione gave me the impression that you would be willing to help."

At the mention of Hermione's name, Draco felt the tension leave his body as he let out a long, aggravated breath. Running one hand through his hair he collapsed backwards to sit on the bed again. He was doing this for her, he reminded himself. And for his mother. And for his own self-respect. He wanted Voldemort and his Death Eaters defeated just as badly as Potter, maybe even more so. At some point he would have to learn to hear his father's name and speak about him without going completely mental. Eyes fixed on the floor, he grit his teeth together and braced himself for what was coming.

"What do you want to know?"

He heard Hermione beside him breathe a sigh of relief and settle back down next to him. Harry also returned to his seat more slowly and leaned forwards to rest his elbows on his knees.

"I actually wanted to ask you something about what happened in our second year."

That actually took him by surprise. Draco lifted his gaze up from the floor and cocked one haughty eyebrow at the boy-who-lived.

"You mean about the chamber of secrets?"

Potter nodded, his eyes flicking nervously towards the girl sitting beside Draco, her thigh pressing against his.

"Yeh… you seemed to know a bit about it at the time…"

Judging by the look of unease on Potter's face and the way he kept glancing at his friend, he knew what incident the boy was referring to. He must be thinking of when they had first seen that writing on the wall and he had declared you'll be next mudbloods. Draco cringed at the memory.

"Lucius told me the story of the chamber of secrets when I was very little, only about seven or eight. I can only assume he was trying to convince me that Salazar Slytherin was some kind of noble hero ridding the world of muggleborns," he sighed dully and pushed a few strands of hair off his face, "He would always remind me of that story and use it as some kind of twisted justification for hating muggleborns. Like it was the duty of a proud Slytherin following in their founder's footsteps. Sick son of a bitch."

When he looked up again he saw that Potter was staring at him with an intensely troubled expression. He felt Hermione place her hand on his knee and it helped to soothe his frayed nerves.

"Holy shit, Malfoy… I didn't realise…"

He interrupted the other boy with a long groan.

"Gee Potter, don't start throwing me a pity party now."

Potter nodded but exchanged one more upset look with Hermione before he spoke again.

"I don't know if you realise this…but your father was actually partly responsible for what happened that year. He slipped this old diary-"

"-into Ginny Weasley's belongings," Draco finished for him with a grim nod, "I know."

"Did he tell you?"

"Not exactly. When the Dark Lord returned he demanded to know where it was. Lucius was forced to confess what happened to it and that it had opened the chamber again. And how you destroyed it."

Potter blinked at him in surprise, his eyes widening.

"And how did er…You-Know-Who react?"

"Let's just say the damage was permanent. Even if Lucius wanted any more children I don't think he'd be capable. Thank Merlin."

The other boy looked a bit disgusted, but then his expression turned thoughtful as he considered this.

"Do you think that You-Know-Who would have given something to Bellatrix to look after? Something valuable maybe."

Draco shrugged, knowing that his aunt certainly had her fair share of secrets. Not to mention the fact that her relationship with Voldemort was weirdly twisted and intimate in an unnatural kind of way.

"Sure. If anything, he trusts her more than he's ever trusted my father. Bellatrix is predictable. She's devoted to the point of being deranged. And the Dark Lord loves a good sycophant. She's his right hand witch."

Potter absorbed this quietly for a moment.

"Can you tell me anything about her vault at Gringotts?"

Draco raised one eyebrow curiously. He tilted his head to share a look with Hermione but she just smiled encouragingly.

"Alright I'll play along… I don't know any specifics about it, but I imagine it would be similar to all the other old pureblood vaults. The Malfoys have an ancient vault deep in the bowels of the bank's underground tunnels. It's probably there."

"What defences are down there?"

He frowned and stared at the two Gryffindors in the room with suspicion.

"What exactly are you trying to accomplish, Potter?"

The boy grimaced.

"I can't tell you. But it's important."

Draco sighed, gritting his teeth and brushing aside the creeping feeling that Potter was going to do something monumentally stupid.

"We're talking about the bank's maximum security level. Nothing is spared. Wards, curses, imposter detectors, even bloody dragons. And the treasure itself is usually charmed to trick anyone who by some miracle might actually make it inside a vault."

He watched in slight trepidation as Potter's eyes flicked over to Hermione's. They shared a significant look that filled him with dread, as if they were plotting something. Given what he had just been speaking about he could only assume the worst.

"So can someone tell me what the bloody hell is going on?"

Potter squirmed a bit on his seat. He couldn't quite settle down and answer the question, so eventually Hermione reached over to give his hand a soft squeeze.

"Why don't I go and get us all some tea?"

Draco glared at her, warning her not to leave him alone with Potter, but she just gave him a bright, brilliant smile and jumped to her feet. As if sensing that he was not happy with the situation, she leaned down and left a firm, ardent kiss on his lips before bouncing from the room. As the door shut behind her, Draco glanced up and watched Potter's dark blush with amusement. His eyes had been hurriedly averted when he saw his friend kissing his former enemy. It made a cocky smirk rise on his lips. But then as an awkward silence settled over the room, Draco's mood sobered. He considered the lightning scarred boy sitting before him and, unexpectedly, an anger rose up inside him. It had been simmering there for a while and now they were alone it was coming back to the surface.

"Listen, Potter…" the other boy's green eyes darted up to stare at him, registering his serious tone, "When you and that freckled git buggered off in the middle of the night and left Hermione behind, it broke her heart. She was devastated. Frankly you deserved more than a slap last night when she saw you! I swear if you hurt her like that again I'll hex you myself."

At first, Potter looked slightly abashed as his cheeks turned a shade of sickly white and then slowly crimson. But after a few seconds a muscle seemed to twitch in his jaw and he pursed his lips.

"Don't you think that's a bit hypocritical, Malfoy? After all, no one else has hurt Hermione more than you."

Draco scoffed and glowered at the boy in front of him.

"It's not the same. I hurt her years ago, back when I hated her and she hated me. We were mutual enemies. You are her friend. That's means so much more than any of those stupid slurs I said when I was just a dumb, arrogant kid. It destroyed her because it came from someone who was supposed to love her."

The other boy's face turned sullen, but his shoulders slumped a bit in resignation. He gave one last glare at Draco.

"And how do I know you won't hurt her?"

Draco shrugged.

"You don't. But you can believe me when I say that I would rather die."

Potter seemed a bit taken aback by the feeling behind his words. He didn't blink as the other boy stared piercingly at him. Eventually the boy-who lived sighed and gave a sort of sad smile as he rumpled his hair with one hand.

"Do you love her?"

Although Potter looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him as he asked his question, Draco just smirked, thinking of Hermione and the feeling of her wrapped around him, her beautiful brown eyes, her kindness.

"Absolutely," he replied with a small grin to himself.

Another rather uncomfortable pause descended on the room. It wasn't until he heard Hermione's footsteps thudding softly up the stairs back towards them that he cleared his throat and spoke again.

"Oh and Potter?"

"What?"

Draco gave a slightly menacing smile.

"Give me back my damn wand."

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I'm sure everyone will have figured out the significance of the wand… Anyway, some more plot plot plot next chapter. How do you want this story to end? We're in the home stretch!