Without further ado, the fiftieth chapter in the Love, Lust saga…

CHAPTER 20: Return to Malfoy Manor

"She's not waking up anytime soon, Gin. We should let her get some rest," said Harry soothingly, rubbing her back. Hermione could hear them at her bedside but it took her a few minutes before she even considered opening her eyes. Her eyelids weighed tons. At least she was back in the real world, with no memory of anything she experienced in the darkness, just the distant feeling of dread and loneliness.

"It's Ron's turn anyway, right?" said Ginny.

Hermione shook her head slowly and mumbled, "It's nobody's turn. I'm fine."

It came out like grunts but they got the message. She clambered around her bed and she felt hands on her face, checking her temperature and her inner eyelids. She lifted up her arms to shoo them away but they fell back on the bed, lifeless.

"Don't try to move much, 'Mione. You must be exhausted."

"I'm glad you're okay too," she answered, reading the hidden message in Ginny's worried tone.

"Ha!" scoffed Harry. "You are freakin' lucky you got out of there in one piece. Voldemort had more soldiers than we imagined. We froze some and are trying to get them help but we got our asses kicked this time."

Despite her lack of energy, she sat up. It was slower than normal but still sudden. Her eyes were large with shock.

"You didn't get him out, did you?"

She didn't need an answer. She could feel it. Feel him. Alive somewhere, not in any physical pain. It was another pain she understood but had never really experienced. His mind was being tortured for knowledge he didn't even have. She just prayed she could find him again before they made him into yet another monster.

The others all looked at Ron, who seemed deathly pale sunken into his seat by her bed. He and Hermione could be twins. "Pansy didn't come back either," he whispered. She didn't think he was capable of speaking any higher. He sounded like he hadn't spoken since he realized he might never see her again. "Even if she had, we wouldn't have known."

"What do you mean?"

Harry felt he had to speak. Ginny was still dealing with the fate of Dumbledore and Ron was dealing with the mess he called his girlfriend. Who would think that having the world's most evil wizard after him be the simplest issue at hand?

"The Order didn't storm Seneca, 'Mione," said Harry, the disdain clear in his voice. "It was the Ministry. Some of us snuck in with the mess but the Ministry ran the show and the Ministry took its prisoners. Didn't matter if they were innocent, if they were secretly with us. They just took everyone to some mass cell in Azkaban. The only reason we know Draco's with the Death Eaters is because the Ministry spent the whole night looking specifically for him. If they'd found him, they would have thrown a parade."

"But then… how…"

Ron cleared his throat and straightened up. "I got to the Order to let them know what you were doing but they already knew. Apparently, Draco morphed into Pansy just as they were arresting him before the trial. Since Moody was with them, they were all ready to come looking for Draco. I just happened to tell them where he was," said Ron.

"I have good news though!" shouted Ginny, just to break the eerie silence. "It's a whole new year! And you're still alive. You gotta admit that when we first realized You-Know-Who was back after Harry all those years ago, none of us expected to live this long."

They all shot her narrowed glares.

Hermione grumbled, "Your optimism disturbs me, Gin. On many, many levels."

She looked around at the infirmary. It wasn't Hogwarts but at least it wasn't the criminal ward either. St. Mungo's. Great. Ron yawned and said, "You go ahead, guys. I'll make sure she doesn't get into trouble."

Reluctantly, Ginny and Harry left. There was a moment of silence and then Ron and Hermione shared a look. Anyone else might ignore it, see it as a meaningless gesture between friends just trying to express their annoyance at the situation. But if one were to look just close enough, they'd see it. That. The mutual decision to take action.

And, if one were smart, one would run away as quickly as possible.

"We have to go to Azkaban, don't we?" mumbled Ron. There wasn't even fear in his voice. There was just determination. He had probably already planned it in his head. The daring rescue, even the way Pansy would look and how he would comfort her afterwards. Hermione could see it in him like a badge of honor. He would run away if it was just him. He would brave it for Pansy.

And, though Hermione added another gold star next to Ron's name in her book, it still had nothing to do with her own mission and her own fight.

Draco wasn't in Azkaban. She knew that her friends were in danger but they could take care of each other. Ron could take care of Pansy, probably find out her cell number from his Dad, and mount the rescue. Ginny would follow her brother and Harry would follow Ginny.

Nobody needed to follow Hermione. She'd face it on her own. She was a monster inside a girl. She could penetrate any gate and break down any lackey. And, if she didn't make it out again, at least she'd be comforted with the knowledge that she took Draco with her, hopefully to a better place.

So, they shared another look and even Ron, who could barely get what a chocolate frog was made of, understood what she meant.

"Be safe," he whispered and reached to squeeze her hand. He bent down to kiss her forehead and spoke into her skin, "My broom is under my seat. It's yours."

He made a loud announcement that he'd be going to get a cup of tea for her and stomped out so the other patients didn't feel the rescue afoot.

She could barely wait fifteen minutes before mounting the damn broom and shoving open the nearest window. There was a large lattice. She was only three floors off the ground and so thought it better to climb down the side of the building than to jump off and hope it works. She got to the grass and realized she was wearing a hospital gown but she just laughed it off. She positioned the gown just right so she could slide the broom between her legs and shut her eyes.

"You can do it, girl," she told herself, instantly feeling like an idiot. "Tap into that Malfoy stupidity that makes him such a good flyer."

She laughed at herself but when she opened her eyes, she was floating a good four feet off the ground. She cursed and came crashing back down. She truly hated heights. Even sissy heights.

She slapped herself playfully and said to herself once again, "Come on, 'Mione girl. It's Draco."

She started to lift again when the irritatingly nasally voice of one Professor Snape, calling her name. She cursed again and fell to the ground, landing on her bum. He came up behind her casually and slapped her across the back of the head.

"Ms. Granger, what in the name of St. Paddy are you doing?" he calmly asked, not bothering to extend a hand to help her up.

Her hair was a curly mess once again and covered her eyes like a curtain. When she looked up and saw old Snape in the usual, tiresome black robes, she pulled the curtain closed again and tried to stand.

She wobbled but made it. "Draco's in danger," she stated, ready to defend her cause.

He just looked at her, waiting for her to elaborate. When she didn't, he said, "And you think getting yourself killed will do him any good?"

"Don't try to talk me out of it, Professor!" she shouted, waving a judgmental finger before his crooked nose.

He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't I make myself clear? You're his mate. Mates shouldn't be torn apart but they shouldn't be allowed in the hands of You-Know-Who either! You are turning yourself over to the enemy, Ms. Granger. In other words, you're being an idiot."

She whined and shut her eyes. "We need to do something, Mr. Snape."

"I agree," he said.

"And I'm not going back into that damn hospital."

"You shouldn't. You're fine."

"Then…"

He sighed and reached into his cloak. Hermione winced, expecting him to pull out his wand and attack. She still didn't trust the old bastard. He pulled out a thick envelope with her name on it. She saw the handwriting and nearly burst out in tears. The broom dropped to the floor.

She looked from him to the envelope and back again, waiting for a confirmation. "He gave me a series of these, one for every possible outcome."

"When did he give them to you?" Hermione whispered, now unable to look at the bloody thing. It just hung there in the air, in Snape's long-fingered hands.

"Last month. At school."

She wrinkled up her face with confusion. "A month ago? How could he possibly have known—Oh God. He's been anticipating this? He's been worried about his capture, his death, for a month?"

Snape shrugged. "Yes, it does seem odd, doesn't it? He's not exactly the suffer and worry in silence type."

She snapped the envelope away and held it to her chest. "No, he's not the type at all. Have you read these?"

Snape furrowed his brow at the accusation. He didn't seem very insulted because, well, he wasn't. "They're sealed, Ms. Granger," he grumbled, annoyed.

He passed right by her and kept walking as though expecting her to follow. When she didn't, he whirled around and clapped his hands.

"Come on, Granger!" he shouted. She jumped and followed, barefoot on muddy ground. She ran back to grab Ron's broom and nearly slipped.

"Professor, wait! Where are we going?"

She ripped open the envelope as she scurried after him, the broom under her arm. "We're going to a safe place, Ms. Granger. Now keep up."

She looked back at the hospital, at her friends all probably gathered for coffee or tea, trying to figure out how to tell her her mate might have died. Snape had the letters. That had to mean something. There had to be a reason why Draco might want her to follow this man, trust him. She just couldn't see what Draco saw in men of questionable morals. She couldn't relate.

Still, she followed.

It was late at night so she could walk to the floo station with minimal stares. She was still in a hospital gown; her feet were still muddy and squeaked when she walked. She was thankful she didn't have to use the damn broom.

Snape did something with the powder, whispered an incantation she'd never heard before. She'd read about it but never heard it pronounced aloud. He was giving a special location, covert, and didn't want even Hermione to hear. She was beyond suspicion. She had learned now to just let him so what he wanted and she'd figure out later. She learned more just by watching and listening than by being a smartass and asking questions every other second. So long as she had that broom to make a quick getaway, she was better off going in for the ride.

The flames shot a new color and they stepped through. She took a deep breath as if by instinct, breathing in a mouthful of ash. She stumbled forward, tripping over her hospital gown. It ripped at the edges and she bent down to tear off the piece entirely before she tripped on it in the midst of some battle. It was just her luck.

When she looked up, torn cloth in hand, her eyes widened so much that they hurt. She recognized it too easily. The place had special meaning. Not only had she been here to witness a massacre but she'd shed skin and blood here, shed tears for Draco and cries of joy. She knew she'd spent so little time there and yet, it seemed like an endless string of memories, worthy of a lifetime.

"Malfoy Manor?" she whispered, expecting no answer.

"Well of course it is. It's the perfect hiding spot, child," said Snape, pulling her by the sleeve towards a mist-covered corridor. The mist moved like water, almost alive in its waves. It had to be the result of magic. She wondered whether the place had been made to look abandoned on purpose or if this was what wizard houses looked like after the magic left.

She pondered it more as she followed him through the corridors, thought what could possibly make such a dreary place such a good hiding spot. It was true that it was big, so ridiculously so that she somewhat understood why Draco still longed to come back. It was a playground to a kid like him, an explorer. She also understood why it made him such a prissy little ass.

But no. It wasn't the size, she surmised. It was the fact that death had found its way there.

Much like a cemetery, the place made you feel like you too had died, that you should feel great sadness, shed some guilty tears, and leave as soon as possible. Even Snape seemed to feel it. He shivered three times before reaching their destination at the end of a great arched hall. It almost looked like he was shedding some bad aura.

"I thought the Ministry had control of the Manor now," she unknowingly whispered aloud. She was trying to be as quiet as possible till she got a chance to read her letter in full and in private. Then, she'd ask all the questions she wanted.

"It thinks it does. It also thinks the Manor is about two acres smaller than it actually is. Since You-Know-Who took my summer home, I've gotten permission from Narcissa to be here."

He opened a large set of double doors, ones she oddly recognized from somewhere. It felt like déjà vu, like she'd seen it in a dream. It was dark wood, almost black, and engraved with a great battle scene between two lions and two rival animal kingdoms. She had no idea what it meant. Through the doors was a room, similar to one of the many rooms she'd witnessed before. It was grand and tidy but it felt considerably more Spartan than the others. It was as if whoever lived there now was just visiting and couldn't add the homey accents necessary for such a lavish home. Sterling silver picture frames, golden busts of Shakespeare… whatever.

It was just a bed with plain beige linens and a closet. Slippers were on the floor under the bedside table and the only real thing of color he must have added were the curtains. They were jet black, as if to hide the light of day, or hide him from his enemies.

"This section is hidden, Ms. Granger," he said. "You're safe."

She didn't feel safe. She didn't feel safe anywhere anymore, let alone with a crazy former potions professor in his secret lair inside her boyfriend's former palace. The first thing she did when she walked in was check the window through the black curtain to make sure she could bust through the glass and fly out if need be. Or come crashing down to the ground gracelessly. She wasn't picky by that point. She also didn't know how she got to be four stories up without going up any stairs. The place was a maze.

"Here, we can train you without interruption or fear of discovery."

"Train me for what?" she snapped. She was getting tired of people telling her what she could do, couldn't do, how she should behave… She was still hesitant to scream at a professor but gave a little attitude just to make herself feel better.

"To bring Draco back. To make you strong enough to withstand what you're about to witness."

She threw her broom by a sofa near the window and sat down, her arms in the air in surrender. "Are you serious, professor? I've seen my boyfriend attacked by rabid wolves, beaten to a bloody pulp by his classmates, and last you and I saw of him, he was taking on an army single-handedly. How much worse could it possibly get?"

He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. He leaned forward onto his knees and, for an instant, dropped his strong face. He seemed so old all of a sudden. She even thought she saw a flicker of emotion besides contempt. It scared the life out of her.

"What is it? What do you know?" she insisted. She mirrored his pose, his furrowed brow.

"Ms. Granger, I did not know the extent of your relationship before, not when it first started. To be perfectly honest, I thought you two had matching lobotomies and forget to tell the rest of the world. But, by all accounts and as you've made publicly known, you are mates. You have a biological prerogative to be together. It also means you have an above than normal psychic ability to sense one another. Am I correct?"

Surely, he'd witnessed it. He heard her shout out for him when he was in pain. Hogwarts was more or less informed of the connection. She didn't see why he needed confirmation all of a sudden.

What had changed?

He saw the question in her eyes and answered, "Ms. Granger, I don't have to have opened the letter to know he's written you a goodbye. He wrote you twenty different goodbyes for twenty different scenarios. He told me to give you this one if—"

"He was captured. Yes, I got that."

He shook his head. "No, Hermione. He asked me to give you that one when they took him back into the fold."

"What do you mean? They would never allow Draco to rejoin the Death Eaters. He's everything they hate now. He's a traitor."

"He's also human!" shouted Snape. She just didn't want to understand. "And human minds can be corrupted. He asked me to train you, Ms. Granger. He asked me to make sure that your mind was as strong as any wall so that… so that when you met again, his evil would not corrupt you. The reports are indisputable, Ms. Granger. You will need to accept it. Draco is a Death Eater again, a killing machine. We can fight but you must be willing to hold strong so the programming doesn't reach you too."

He was astounded by her bravery. She didn't cry, didn't shake. She was angry but she had cause to be angry at a lot of things and a lot of people, especially bureaucrats such as himself. He raised both eyebrows and leaned in a little bit closer, trying to find some reaction in her face. And then he saw it. The smirk. The Malfoy smirk.

"Actually, professor. I think you might just be on to something."

She didn't trust the man but she trusted the logic. The only thing she didn't know was how she was going to stop the pain that grew in her chest the longer she was away from him, one so strong that she was sure neither of them might see the end of it.

Don't worry. I'm over my crappy week. I was having a post-20th birthday quarter life crisis. Bring on summer vacation though! Will try to update more frequently. If not, annoy me with reviews as usual. Lol. Love to you all.

Reviews are better than misplaced optimism.

P.S. Also, thank you ffnet for removing all of my dashes and separators, you assholes. In other news, I may write a third part to the saga. We'll see.