Hermione opened her eyes and looked all around her. The moisture and nip in the air told her she was likely to be back in London. The crispness was quite familiar to her, but not at all comforting. She was alone, in a single-bed room the walls plain, and the floor bare. She hadn't the foggiest how long she'd been sleeping, or what had put her out, but she knew this room well. She knew all two-dozen of them. She'd helped them lay out this floor plan. These were holding rooms designed by the Department of Magical Defense to keep victims separate from their captors as long as it took to disengage them from any lingering spells or memory charms and allow them to go back to their lives. The rooms where they stored the actual captors, she knew, were far different. It confirmed her theories that Harry Potter had made a bit of an assumption about her and Draco's relationship… and much as the reality still seemed unreal to her… this one, was even less likely… and if she remembered protocol correctly from when they'd first put it into place, she was going to have to get his attention, fast… before the Dementors came.

"For the last time," Draco said, breathing heavily, spitting blood upon the stone floor. "I didn't force her to do anything. She went to Egypt because it was part of our—"

"I have your wand, you know."

"Right, so you can stop being a right twat and check it to see if I've obliviated her! Or casted the Imperius Curse. I assure you, I haven't, and frankly, the fact that you think she COULD be shackled to the mind of another in such a fashion without being able to break free of her own accord, shows how little you really do know of her."

Another blast came at him, feeling like fire whipping past his face. He sputtered, coughing out bits of whatever the spell had been shooting at him, cutting his face, clothing, and marring his exposed flesh.

"Stop it. Stop acting like you bloody care about her, you pig. I know what's inside of her."

"Do you? Was it me, Potter? Have a test of genetics on hand, do you?"

"She's been tested."

The way he said it sent Draco seeing red—speaking as if she were a lab rat. They'd tested her… he didn't know how invasive that particular procedure would be, but he guessed she hadn't consented. They'd probably had to knock her out, first. Probably hadn't even told her why. He was livid.

"Your own best friend, Potter. You can't even trust her to answer some bloody questions?"

"We're not asking her anything until we make sure she's not under any lingering spells."

"Bollocks. You don't want to know that she acted freely. It would mean your darling girl likes to roll in the mud, eh? Aren't you supposed to be married? Why do you even care?"

Another round hit him, this time, stinging his eyes, and he shut them, but he would not let Harry Potter break him. That was a victory the Boy Wonder would never have… not now.

"I don't expect you to understand the type of love a friend has, Malfoy."

"I guess you wouldn't. If you'd ever bothered to dabble back in school, you'd know your friend doesn't take much to convince… shudders at a mere compliment, that one. Pretty unaccustomed to any kind of special treatment. What does that say about you and your mate?"

"This isn't about Ron or I—and you're damn lucky you're dealing with me and not him."

"Right, still off shagging her cousin in America, I hear. Right manly, that one."

"What else did you pull out of her? What secrets about this department were you about to remove?"

"Are you that thick? S'pose I should feel honored. You don't think I did it just for a shag, you think I wanted information, at least."

Another round.

"I didn't do it at all!" he shouted. Harry Potter stood before him, arms crossed, wand in his hand. He was looking Draco Malfoy up and down, no signs of emotion or thought. He looked much as he always had, but his eyes were accented by the signs of time catching up with him. Draco Malfoy felt his mouth filling with the blood of his cut gums once more, and again he spit it on the ground.

"You've been quiet for almost ten years, Malfoy… ten years. Why now? What's in the works that you went after her for?"

"Bloody nothing, Potter."

"You don't even speak to your parents. I checked. Your old haunts? Abandoned. Your house is untaken care of. "Friends" of yours haven't heard from you in ages. If I didn't know you better, I'd think you've been plotting something all by yourself… but a ferret like you has to have his lackies."

"I guess I took one of yours, then. That what this is about?"

Another blast hit him, this time making him groan.

A witch entered, brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail on top of her head, dressed in nice robes. She walked toward Potter and whispered something into his ear. He looked at her, hard. She left. They were alone, again.

"You're never gonna believe me, Potter. Why don't you just let me die?"

"I'd love to," he said, and Draco knew he meant it. He'd like nothing more, never would have. To kill him would be too much of an affront on the man's character… The Golden Boy would never consent to such an act… not unless he had to… but to simply walk away and let him die? He'd probably regretted not doing just that his final year at school.

"Soon, I won't have a choice. The Dementers have been called."

Draco's heart went cold.

"On what grounds? What proof do you have?!"

"Enough,"

"Test my wand!"

"Not all magic requires a wand."

"So you found jack shit. Give me Veritaserum, then!"

The witch entered again. Harry nodded to her. Draco's heart was pounding.

"Merlin, Potter, she's going to kill you!"

"We'll give you the serum, Malfoy. She's awake now… I have to go to her… I have to make sure the damage you've done isn't permanent. My associate will take over from here."

"And when you find out you're a bloody sod and that I've been telling you the truth?!"

He was already walking out of the room. Draco tried to move, but the magical bounds on his wrists were too severe. He snarled.

"Potter!"

The door was shut, and Draco faced now a woman with a tiny bottle and a weak smile.

"I'll need you to sign a consent form, Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione was pacing. She'd tried yelling, pounding on the door, and throwing the bed against the wall. Typically once they knew the captive had woken, they sent someone in immediately for counseling. She only had to wait, but waiting was proving one of the most difficult tasks in this endeavor.

She had only just convinced herself to sit down on the bed when the knob on the door finally turned. She rose and ran to it. Harry entered. She stopped short, crossed her arms over her chest.

"Really," she said to him, impatiently.

"Hermione, I—"

"No, YOU listen to ME. I have been awake in here for almost forty bloody minutes, Mr. Potter. Where is the dignity of The Department of Magical Defense now, when leaving me here suits your needs? Don't forget—I wrote some of these buggering policies!"

"Hermione, sit down, please—"

"I WON'T sit down! Where is Draco?!"

"Oh, he's Draco now?"

"Oh, come off it, Harry. Don't make me bloody hex you."

"We've taken your wand."

"As if I hadn't known. As if I needed it for that."

"Listen… we've run a battery of tests while you slept… whatever he's done to you is beyond our scope of—"

"DONE to me, Harry?! I have no memory loss! Nothing is foggy! I know my right from my left, I've made ALL decisions with a sound mind! What victim doesn't REMEMBER being victimized?!"

"It's complicated magic—"

"It's NOT complicated magic. It's solace."

She sat down on the bed now, red in the face and nearly panting with anger.

"How is he?" she asked, in his silence.

"Fine," Harry answered. She cringed.

"Don't lie to me."

"The Dementers are on their way."

She sighed, cupped her face with her hands and breathed into her knees to steady herself.

"Do you think you love him?"

She didn't answer him. She didn't know how to. She barely knew the answer, herself. What she did know was that she couldn't stand him dying on the account of her idiot friend.

"Harry, please… don't do this… if I wasn't your friend… we wouldn't be here right now. This is a judgment call, Harry. You're biased. You need to bring in a superior."

"I am the superior. I'm not biased. We always do this work based on the lives of the victims. You know that. I am trying to help you." He walked toward her.

"Did he seduce you, Hermione? Did he... take advantage?"

He moved to put a hand on her knee. She slapped it away.

"You don't know who you're about to kill," she said to him, tears in her eyes though she willed them to go. "He's… changed, Harry."

"No, Hermione. You've changed. You let him stab Neville."

"Neville attacked him first! He was fine—not even a bloody scar. It was a testosterone display, at best—by BOTH of them."

"He disappeared with you for six months-"

"We never left Hogwarts. We were under a spell we needed to use to be seen in Egypt."

"Why were you in Egypt?"

"I can't discuss that with you. This isn't your mission, Harry. It's his and mine."

"That's not all that's his and yours… did he even tell you?"

She knew what he was talking about. Her question was how, but she hesitated to ask… she was barely ready to admit to herself that it was true… let alone how Draco could have known when she did not.

"How could he have known?" was all she could ask.

"Did you? Did you go to Egypt, knowing? Would you have? That's why he didn't tell you, Hermione. He wanted you to keep going. He thought if you knew, you would bail out. So he kept it at a secret—"

"How would he have KNOWN? How do you know that he was aware of it at all, Harry?"

"The potion," Harry said, quietly. Her brow furrowed.

"What?"

"When you were sick… and I came to see you… that potion. Nothing glows quite that color, Hermione. Must've made a dozen for Ginny, myself. When I saw it, I… I thought you just weren't ready to talk about it… honestly, I thought it was, you know… you and Neville." She wrinkled her nose. She was growing more disgusted by the minute… and how had she not known about the color of the potion? All the research she'd ever done… how had she not known?

"How could he have known?" she asked, more to herself than to Harry.

"Unless he did it intentionally," Harry offerd. Hermione turned away from him. She felt sick, and she doubted his statement with her entire body.

"Hermione… whatever he's done to you… he's done it well. I don't think you'll remember the truth unless you hear it from him… he's consented to a Veritaserum test." Her head snapped toward him.

"He has?"

He nodded. A bit of hope arose in her. Draco Malfoy, utmost guardian of his own secrets, would never have submitted to this test under pain of death, had he something to hide. Harry had to be wrong, then. Her feelings weren't all in vain, and whether he was doing it to save his skin or to help her understand, she had to be there.

"Then let's go," she answered, standing.

Draco Malfoy lowered the quill on the table the witch had had brought in for him to sit down at. There was a glass of water to his right, and a tiny dropper to the left. The signed document was before him. She took it, folded it, and inserted it into her breast pocket.

"Are you ready, Mr. Malfoy?" He nodded. She glanced to a large mirror on the opposing wall. She nodded. Draco looked toward it.

"He's back there, isn't he?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Is she?"

The witch hesitated a moment. She nodded. Draco looked to the mirror. He swallowed hard.

"Never meant to hurt you," he managed to say, before looking down. "I know they don't believe that… but I hope you do. I just… I was stupid. And I had to keep going. I'm sorry."

He reached down, unscrewed the cover on the dropper bottle and pumped some liquid into it. He lifted it above his head, and lowered a drop onto his tongue. Nasty stuff. For a moment his tongue went numb, then it stopped… and then he started to relax. The witch took the dropper from him, recapped the bottle and took a seat across from him.

"Now then, Mr. Malfoy…" the witch began, "What is your relationship to Hermione Granger?"

"I don't know," he said.

"You don't know?"

"It's complicated."

"Describe it to me."

"She… hates me… but she also likes me. She likes what I do to her. She thinks I'm funny even when she doesn't want to."

"And what do you think of her?"

"She's unlike anyone I've ever known. She makes me detest her, then… I'm astounded by her, again… I think she's beautiful."

"You care about her?"

"Yes."

"Did you know that she was pregnant with your child?"

"Yes."

"How did you know?"

"It spoke to me."

The witch looked at him, hard.

"It… spoke to you?"

"Some kind of spell… communicating while in the womb… it was an accident… I didn't believe it, at first… then when we went inside her, I saw it. She thought it was the magic in her… but I knew it wasn't her, really. It was..."

"So what did you do, then?"

"Thought about killing it. She was starting to feel sick… I didn't want her to know… knew she'd never come with me if she knew… there was a potion I could make that'd take it without hurting her… she'd never know."

"And did you give her the potion?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I turned it into an Anti-Nausea potion."

"By accident?"

"No."

"Draco, why didn't you give her the potion?"

"Because… I couldn't make that decision for her. It wasn't… right."

"But you still didn't tell her?"

"No."

"What is it you need Hermione Granger for?"

"Can't get the answers without her."

"The answers to what?"

"Where my uncle is… what it all means."

"Draco Malfoy, at any point on your journey did you ever intentionally or by accident control Hermione Granger by magical means?"

"No," Draco said. The witch cleared her throat.

"And do you love Hermione Granger?"

There was a hesitation. The calm in Draco Malfoy was beginning to lift. He heard her question, but the answer wasn't any word that he knew. He opened his mouth to respond… and the far door slammed open, jarring he and the witch from their session.

A wizard stood in the doorway, wand raise, and cloak waving. His hair was wild, standing out in every direction, and he stepped into the weak light in the room.

"That's enough," he said, walking ever closer. He pointed his wand at the witch, motioning his head to the door.

"This interview is over."

He faced Draco Malfoy as the haziness around him finally lifted, and he realized then that it didn't matter whether or not the Dementers were coming for him, tonight… he was either going to kill or be killed… because this wizard standing before him had Draco's wand in hand as well… and Ron Weasley was out for blood.

"Get him out of there!" Harry yelled at the witches and wizards running for the door that was too far away- the door that Ron Weasley had entered the interrogation room through.

"Harry, give me my wand," Hermione said, quietly.

"Accio wand!" he yelled. Hermione's wand came zipping through the air and through the window on the door to the room, breaking it. He handed it to Hermione.

"Close your eyes." It was chaotic around them, but he listened to her. She closed hers as well. The mirror between them and the interrogation room burst into a million pieces, shards littering the floor all around them. Harry gasped, took a step back. Hermione merely opened her eyes and looked to him.

"Come on," she said, stepping over the pane of glass and into the room, wand at the ready.

Ron had handed Draco his wand, by now... and the witch had fled out the door he had entered. Ron had barred it. There was no one getting in. Hermione ran toward them. He was going to kill him, there was no question in her mind.

"Ron, stop!" she yelled. Harry was hot on her heels.

"Ron- don't do anything stupid! It's not what we thought!"

"Terminio!"

A boundary rose up between Hermione and Harry and Draco and Ron. Ron had risen it between them. Hermione stepped toward it, raised a hand to it, but it repelled her.

"This is what it's going to come down to, then?" Draco asked Ron. He just glared at him. Draco looked to Hermione.

"Can I win, here? Either I die... or I kill your best mate. I lose your either way, don't I?"

Hermione felt her lip trembling, but she fought against it. They certainly had their issues to discuss... but she didn't want him to die. Harry was already working on getting the wall down when Ron called the first shot and hit Draco directly in the middle. Immediately, Draco was vomiting blood. Spitting, he looked to Hermione.

"What would you have me do?" he managed to ask her.

"Fight back..." she said, quietly... "but... please don't kill him."

She joined Harry on the wall, firing spells to try and bring it down. Surely, she thought, though Ron was always most talented when he was angry, the two of them together would be able to remove it before serious damage was done.

The four of them were shouting spells barely discernible over the crashing and bashing. The noise in the room was huge, and Hermione was there in the thick of it, having only moments to consider the fact that deep inside of her, a child was sucking vital nutrients from herself into it... and her main job in the process was to protect it. What the hell was she doing, then?

With one final swoop, she and Harry got the wall down, and before she could think, they were both running toward the two dueling wizards in the center, both bloody and shouting. And suddenly, Hermione felt weak. There was a blast of blue light around her, and her center of gravity churned. She was on her knees, and all eyes came to her... and as hers began to close, she could hear Draco shouting to call St. Mungos, as a pool of blood swelled between her legs.