A/N: Sorry it took so long to update! I hadn't finished chapter 6 and I didn't want to update until I had at least a one chapter buffer. So I'll hopefully update around Christmas. Not sure. Chapters 7-9 will be relatively easy to write. :) Enjoy in case i don't update before the end of the week! Happy holidays! Dezi won't really be a big character until the later chapters. Around double digits and what not. :) just letting you know!

Chapter 5

The Manor

I was so grateful of what the Malfoy's were doing, but I just didn't understand it. I couldn't help but hate Malfoy, and something in his eyes made me really not care if I hated him or not. I still remember how a year ago, I had been inside one of the rooms downstairs, screaming in pain as Bella carved into me. Nearly a year ago I had suffered right there in front of the whole Malfoy Family and Draco just stood there watching, how could I not have hatred for him? I walked around Malfoy's house, his castle that when all the Death Eaters, and Voldemort and his parents left, was all to himself. Oh how envied him sometimes!

And this was good for me, because then no one would really pay attention to me, and I could take notes. Who knew how long I'd be here, or how long it would be before someone came to rescue me. I knew that taking notes and passing on the information to the Order would be the best idea. Perhaps if I was sneaky enough I could pass notes and messages to the Order regularly from here and never be caught. It would require quite a bit of meticulous planning and extra research on my part, but I was Hermione Granger, and was no doubt up to a challenge like this. I had magicked a beautiful notebook, with a deep red cover and a gold binding. It was beautiful. And that was where my notes remained. I walked around the house, having already written down what I knew so far. Now I walked around trying to remember anything that a Death Eater had said too loudly about some plan or something I had overheard while eating breakfast the other day. There were a few things already; dates, times of attacks, locations of places of interest. This was already turning out to be better than I thought it was going to be.

I walked around the house finding the little things that were small but necessary to the plans. I had no idea what the Order would want in the first place and my correspondence for awhile would just be letters and notes. If they wanted something extra special they would tell me in a reply, hopefully. But until then I took down what I could and made sure I had everything. It wasn't until I was almost done taking note of my third day here, when I remembered why I ended up here in the first place. Our mission had been to save all the families the Order had been protecting and the Order members themselves. I had no idea where they were, or how to reach them. These notes would go to no one until I had someone, somewhere to send them to.

I looked around at the place that was to be my home for who knew how long? I guess I could try to live here. Maybe if I got Malfoy on my side I could... no, wouldn't that just be absolutely horrid. I could never do that to him, plus it might be dangerous for him. I was currently on the top most floor, exploring bed rooms and the hall up here, and I'd already looked about outside. I wanted to go down into the library, the study, the dining hall. But I still had rooms to explore. The Death Eaters had left three days ago. It took them three weeks to finally get everything together and finally leave. After Malfoy had taken me and Dezi out of the dungeon he had to randomly put people back in the cells. Either Voldmort would want to see a certain prisoner and kill them or something, or a Death Eater would be given free access to what women were in the dungeon. It seemed that Malfoy despised how the Death Eaters treated women, how horribly they were looked upon. Save for Bellatrix, no woman was a part of the Death Eaters, no woman was respected. Not even his mother. Malfoy seemed to have a connection with Dezi. They seemed to have known each other quite awhile and gotten used to each other's company.

I had made plenty of notes to keep Bolt happy if I ever got the chance to contact him. I was of course going to find a way to contact what was left of the Order to get this information to them. I had to, it was the least I could do seeing as I had allowed Harry to walk into this. I had allowed Harry to be killed, to be murdered. How was I ever going to live that down? I looked around the hallway I was currently in, and all I saw was the home of the Death Eaters. Those who had killed and endangered nearly everyone I loved had been here at one point or another. I had to betray the Malfoys and the Death Eaters, I had to give information to the Order. If I didn't I would be betraying the Order, my parents, Ron, and I would be betraying Harry. I had to keep this journal a secret from Malfoy, this newfound freedom might be lost if anyone ever knew about it.

I looked over my notes. They were precise and very descriptive. The grounds had been enormous. I couldn't believe how they could possibly own something so large and vast. There was a pool, larger than the Olympic size pools, a lake that was so large and glittered in the sunlight. A Quidditch pitch that was full size and marked with full hoops, a stable, racing track, golf course, and a small building followed by what looked to be a firing range. There was no way this kid would ever be bored during summer break. I had been in awe when I first saw everything. I rushed back into the Manor when a cold air brushed against me, and walked through the halls, trying to figure out where everything was. There was this beautiful dining room, which wasn't the actual dining room. It had beautiful French doors that opened into the garden, and it was a small breakfast nook looking area. Then there was a doorway that led to a sitting room, and another doorway that led to what looked like a small art gallery. It had beautiful paintings of all the Houses at Hogwarts, but centered on Slytherin. The sitting room was attached to a study that I assumed was Mr. Malfoy's. I didn't go in but I looked through the doors to see if anything led out of there. It was a dead end as far as I could see.

The art gallery then led into a place that looked perfect for drawing and painting. I assume that was where the paintings originated from, along with so many around the house. But the only question that remains is who is the artist that painted this lovely master pieces? There was another door out of the gallery but that was to a bathroom. The painting room was filled with tarps covered with paint stains. There were drawing desks lining the walls and canvases in a closet. It was a wonderfully lit room. On the other side of the room was a door leading out to main hall. There was a large staircase that spiraled up that was large enough to fit a party of ten people straight across at any given point. It of course flared down at the bottom like most spiral stair cases tend to do. Just beyond this was the Ball Room. It was large with beautiful wooden floors and was about as big as the Great Hall. The ceiling seemed to also be enchanted, as it showed the beautiful morning sky. There were so many doors leading off into small closets for coats, or small kitchens. There were a few doors that led off into hallways with rooms attached to them. Probably just one man rooms for those too drunk to Apparate home or too sick from drinking and dancing. They weren't long halls. Just long enough for two or three rooms on each side. There was another set of French doors leading out onto a beautiful patio that over looked the pool. There was a slight hillside beside the Ball Room, and it was more like a balcony looking over the pool than anything. It was gorgeous with the morning sun glinting of the surface of the water.

I went back out into the main hall, and just beyond the stair case was another hall leading to more rooms. There was a large room with a fireplace and and soft music playing. There was a smaller room with perfume bottles lining the walls, there were also a number of lotions and bath soaps. There was a medium sized room filled with nothing but instruments. It was perfectly sound proofed and most of the instruments were Muggle instruments. And it looked as if all of them were regularly used. Or had been before the War broke out. The next room was my favorite by far. It was twice the size of the Ball Room, and nearly twice as tall. It was the Library. Stacked to ceiling with books on all walls. I immediately fell in love with it. Imagine the library from Beauty and The Beast. Now make it twice as big and more Jane Austen and less 19th Century Danish and that was the Malfoy's Library. I was at home. I immediately fell in love with this place. It was so beautiful, so bright, so welcoming. For a moment I just stared at the wonder that was the library. Then I made my move. I made towards the books to find out how they were organized. It was very Dewey decimal system, but just a little different. It had to be different, seeing as that was a Muggle contraption and these were Wizards with wizarding books. It was sorted instead of Biography, Fiction, Non- Fiction, Resource, etc, but by Mythology, Creatures, History, Tales, and Fiction. I was curious to find out what the Malfoy's considered fiction.

What I saw amazed me. They had nearly every single book I loved. Pride and Prejudice, Dracula, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Picture of Dorian Grey, Percy Jackson, the list could go on and on. I loved every single book they had. I knew that this would be the first place I would want to go the moment I got out of bed. This could also be the place to do all the research I needed. There was a fireplace in the corner and I had a feeling that the Malfoy's didn't have their fireplace watched by the Ministry like everyone else's. This might be the perfect place to conduct my reports. This would give me the perfect resources to use and I would have the perfect excuse to be here. Not even Malfoy could argue that I would never visit the library as much as I was going to. Half my year at Hogwarts was always spent in the library. This was amazing. I thought I understood the Malfoy's and everything about their Pure Blood routine. But I was obviously wrong. They were interested in Muggle things. Then I remembered who had lived here for the longest time. Voldemort. Could all this be a trick to draw me in? Malfoy knew how much I enjoyed books, and music. Would he go so low as to decorate a room with all my favorite things and then expect me to give information on the Order? I was suddenly very suspicious of the Malfoy's.

I left the library I still had to explore. The rest of the house was filled with odd little rooms. A tea room, carving room, a writing room, make up room, etc. I made notes of all the little nooks and crannies, and of the secret passageways that passed between the walls. I noted that the wards on the house had to be either really strong or a little weak in some cases because of the size of the grounds. I took a stroll around the front lawn, and felt the same eyes I felt the day of Harry's death on me again. I sat down in front of the wrought iron gates, staring at the world that lay just beyond them. It was like everyone passed by without a second glance at the Malfoy house. Cars, strollers, and dogs went by the gates never looking at it, never marveling at its size. It was like it wasn't there. I assumed that was the only effective ward on the house. Muggles just thought it was a run down house or mill or maybe even an empty lot. Some kids looked at it with a certain hunger of wanting to explore but the wall was too high to climb up and the gates were locked. So I assumed it was just a small house that everyone assumed to be haunted. I was sitting there, soaking up the sun that filtered from the clouds and onto the ground. The grass was a beautiful green and the smell of rain was in the air. It was beautiful out today. Off in the distance you could see mountains towering over a city, snow capping the mountains, and hiding whatever lay beyond the mountains from sight. I loved this view. For a moment I wanted this to be my home, and to live here for the rest of my life. A part of me wished that these exact circumstances were nearly perfect, and that I could live with Malfoy, and enjoy this view forever. But then I remembered it was Malfoy. And where I was, and why I was here. I was a prisoner of war, a Muggle born witch, and the most hated witch among the Pure bloods. They hated me for being so smart and good with magic. But I didn't care. I had earned my wand a thousand times. Especially when I saved Malfoy from... well never mind that.

I could still feel those cold eyes on me, but they weren't so cold. They were concerned, but empty. I couldn't stand it, I finally looked over my shoulder and met the gaze of Draco Malfoy. He was watching me with an intense look of... hunger? No that was concern. He was probably wondering why I was out here just sitting and staring at the mountains. I brushed myself off and slowly made my way back into the Manor. I was probably going to get told to not go outside. People might see me. Someone might come to visit the Malfoy's and then they'd be caught. I knew that was the conversation Malfoy should have had with me, but he wasn't going to have it. He was going to look at me with concern in those storm grey eyes and ask if I'd seen the library. And so he did. Things were becoming very strange. He walked me back to the library and showed me the section on the Dark Arts. He said he wasn't showing it to me show off what kind of people they were, but to tell me that I should read this, and understand the thinking behind the Dark Arts, and figure out a way to avoid getting hurt by someone using Dark Arts. He hinted that things were going to get very dangerous with Potter gone.

"Now that the Dark Lord thinks he's won, he will think the World is his to control. He will eventually come here, and kill you. It will probably be his last move before the World is decidedly his. He has this plan. He wants to control the world then make a public execution of mudbloods and muggles. He wants to make an example of those whom he hates. I have a feeling if you are still you by that time, he will kill you as the Big Finale." I had no idea what he meant by 'if you are still you'. I watched him leave and sat down with the first book he had handed me. But before I started reading, I wrote down the encounter and the Dark Lord's plan to execute publicly. This was going to be a dangerous war. And being a spy in the thick of it was going to be even more dangerous. I knew what I was doing, knew what I was getting myself into. But did I really understand? I'm not sure if I'll ever understand this war to it's fullest extent.