The days that followed Harry's return were filled with Order business. Members were constantly in and out of Grimwauld Place so there was always a house full of people. Hermione immersed herself into research and joined in whenever the Order met to discuss the latest news and plans. It was at these times that she seemed most like her old self; confident and industrious. It gave her something to focus on and work toward.

It also gave her an excuse not to spend time alone with Ron. She found herself feeling more uncomfortable around him and wasn't ready to face the reasons why. All she wanted was for the damn war to be over, Harry to be safe and to find Draco.

Ron knew that something was amiss. He assumed that Hermione had been traumatised with the kidnapping and the last thing on her mind was romance, though it hurt that she couldn't come to him for comfort. He finally voiced his concern to Harry one morning before they headed down for breakfast.

"Do you think Hermione's been avoiding me?" he asked tentatively.

"No," Harry lied. He had noticed. "Don't take it personally, mate. Who knows what she went through those weeks she was gone."

"You don't think she was..." He couldn't bring himself to say the word.

Harry guessed what Ron alluded to. They knew Hermione had been tortured; she had told them that much though spared them the details. What concerned Ron was that she may have been raped.

"I hope to Merlin not. Has she been to St Mungo's?"

"No. Mum's tried to get her to go but she insists that she's fine."

"She's too stubborn."

"True."

"Just give her some time, alright? Come on, mate," Harry added, "let's get something to eat."

Food was always a good way to distract Ron and he followed Harry downstairs to the kitchen where they found nearly a full table; Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Ginny and Hermione. They joined everyone and began to fill their plates. The kitchen was noisy with the chatter of two or three different conversations. A copy of the Daily Prophet came hurtling through the Floo network, narrowly missing Harry's head.

"May I see that?" Hermione asked. She was usually the first to read through the paper when it arrived at Grimmauld Place, skimming the pages thoroughly for information to report to the Order. She was very good at reading between the lines.

Harry picked up the rolled parchment from the floor and tossed it over to Hermione. She unrolled the parchment and peered at its front page. Her face blanched.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, first to notice Hermione's expression.

She couldn't speak. She felt that she might vomit if she opened her mouth. She handed the paper to Ginny. By now the rest of the table had cottoned on and became silent. Ginny read the headline aloud.

"Lucius Malfoy and Fellow Death Eaters Escape Azkaban."

"When?!" Mr Weasley asked. Ginny scanned the article and relayed the information, little was known. "I should get to the Ministry," Mr Weasley stood.

"I'll contact the rest of the Order," Tonks volunteered.

Everyone began moving and Hermione stood, pale faced.

The room seemed to spin and she collapsed to the floor.

"Hermione!" Ron called and rushed to her side. Mrs Weasley Flooed for a healer from St Mungo's and then joined her son. Hermione began to regain consciousness.

"Draco" she mumbled. Ron grimaced at the name but stayed by Hermione's side.

"Shh, now," Molly soothed. "A healer is on the way."

"We have to find Draco"

"We'll look for him," Harry assured her.

"You don't know where!" Hermione began to cry.

"Arthur's gone to the Ministry"

"He doesn't trust the Ministry! I need to go"

"No!" Ron shouted causing his mother to jump. "You just passed out on the floor!"

"He doesn't have a wand!" Hermione argued. "He gave me his so I could return. He has no way to defend himself."

"We'll find him," Mrs Weasley assured her.

The mediwitch from St Mungo's arrived and put a stop to Hermione's arguing. Healer Bombay was a lovely Indian woman with a long black plait. Hermione was moved to her bedroom for an examination. Afterword, the healer sat down beside Hermione's bedside.

"Well, Ms Granger, you are in good health though your weight is a bit low." The mediwitch smiled warmly before continuing. "I'm wondering, Ms. Granger, were you aware of your pregnancy?"

Hermione paled. "No," she whispered.

The healer nodded, understanding Hermione's shock. "Well, you are very early in the pregnancy. Do you have any questions?"

Hermione only shook her head, her eyes tearing.

"I'd like to see you again next month. Will you be able to arrange an appointment?"

Hermione nodded, afraid she would burst into tears if she spoke.

"Very well," Healer Bombay stood and took the girl's hand in hers, "if you need to speak to me before then, just Floo."

A moment after the mediwitch left, there was a knock on the door and Mrs Weasley entered. "Can I bring you anything, dear?" Hermione shook her head.

"All right then. Healer Bombay said you just need some rest." She patted Hermione's cheek and smiled down at her. "I imagine the stress finally caught up with you."

"I need to let someone know where Draco is," Hermione said.

"Remus is on his way to speak to you. Don't you worry, they'll find him. Shall I send the others in or do you want a rest?"

Hermione nodded, not ready to face her friends. She needed time to accept the news.

The small white cottage in need of paint with the overgrown garden sat at the end of a long dirt road. Lupin and three Aurors Apparated just down the road. They approached slowly, careful to observe movement and any changes within the Magical current in the air.

Rowling, an Auror with a blond mane, lead the group. She approached the building first and edged her way along its exterior to a window. She peered inside and then signaled for the others to approach.

They surrounded the cottage and entered, once they confirmed it was safe to.

Inside, they found overturned and shattered furniture. Pieces of broken glass and splintered wood crunched under their boots as they surveyed the interior. The two small bedrooms were just as damaged with slashed bedding and torn curtains.

"Looks like he put up a fight," one of the younger Auror's commented.

"No," Lupin said as he looked around the ruined cottage, "I don't think there was a fight."

"No," Rowling agreed. "This was an act of rage."

"So, he got away?"

"We can only hope," Lupin answered.

It was quite late in the evening by the time Lupin was able to return to Grimmwauld Place to deliver the disappointing news. Hermione listened quietly as Lupin relayed what they found.

"So, he got away then?" Harry asked.

"It looks that way. Whoever wrecked the cottage was upset and there was no sign that anyone had been taken or injured."

"Thank you for looking." Hermione's voice was quiet.

"The Ministry and the Order will keep looking, Hermione," Lupin assured the girl.

Hermione nodded as tears began to fill her eyes. She excused herself abruptly and left behind Lupin, Ron and Harry. Silence reigned for a moment.

"Why does she care so much about the git?" Ron snapped suddenly.

"I imagine they developed some kind of relationship," Lupin speculated.

"What do you mean?!" Anger and jealousy flashed across Ron's face.

"Only that they had to depend on each other," Lupin tried to reassure him. "I'm sure she feels guilty for leaving him."

"Yeah, well, I for one wouldn't care if the Death Eaters find him first! I haven't forgotten about what a prat he was to her all those years!" He stood from his chair and left the room.

"Ron!" Harry called but Lupin gestured for him to leave it. Lupin suspected that maybe Ron's jealousy was not out of place and pushing the topic could make matters worse. A door slammed shut on the floor above.

"He was a prat," Harry agreed, "but in the end I think he was scared."

Lupin nodded. "Albus hoped to save him."

"Of course, Dumbledore also trusted Snape."

"Sometimes our perception becomes skewed," Lupin commented. "Look at my own past, trusting Peter and failing to believe Sirius. Sometimes people surprise us in a moment."

"You sound like Dumbledore," Harry smirked and Lupin smiled at the compliment. He had always admired the man's ability to see the best in people.

"Do you think the Ministry will really look for Malfoy?" Harry asked.

Lupin didn't want to answer Harry's question. Ministry resources were stretched tight, doing everything they could to fight Voldemort. How important was it that they find one reformed Death Eater? Lupin hunched that Hermione knew the truth as well.

"For Hermione's sake," he answered at last, "I hope they do."

Hermione winced at the sound of the door slamming down the hall, suspecting that it had been Ron.

She was certain her concern for Draco caused him great suspicion. She couldn't hide it. She couldn't blame him for being upset. Just a few short weeks before, it was clear to them both that their relationship had surpassed mere friendship.

Now she avoided being alone with him. She had been grateful that no one pressed her for details about her time spent with Draco. They could barely fathom that Draco Malfoy had helped her escape from Voldemort, putting himself in grave danger, how could they understand they had become close?

She wondered if anyone suspected it. After all, she had been under the impression that Ron died in her arms.

What did that say about her devotion to Ron; that she could so easily forget him and attach herself to someone new?! She muffled the fresh sobs that erupted from deep within her chest so as not to wake Ginny. How could I have let this happen? How am I going to manage this? Who would understand?

Turning onto her side, she covered her head with her blanket, searching for some comfort in the warmth of its cocoon.

What did it say about Hermione's devotion to Ron that she could so easily forget him and attach herself to someone new?! She muffled the fresh sobs that erupted from deep within her chest so as not to wake Ginny.

'How could I have let this happen? How am I going to manage this? Who would understand?'

Turning onto her side, she covered her head with her blanket, searching for some comfort in the warmth of its cocoon.

Winter moved swiftly into England bringing a chill in the air. Hermione emerged from her shower and toweled off the moisture from her skin, patting herself dry. She paused when she reached her stomach. She was almost afraid to look, as if her belly might have suddenly ballooned. But, of course, she saw no difference, not even when she changed her stance or posture. When does one begin to show? she wondered. She made a mental note to herself to look into the information.

It was difficult for her to accept the fact that she was pregnant. There was no morning sickness or other symptoms. She didn't feel pregnant. She had never really given thought to having children; she was much too young. She wondered if the fetus would even survive under the amount of stress she found herself. She hardly had any appetite and despite Molly's gentle coaxing and excellent cooking, Hermione didn't eat much and had lost more weight.

She shook her head; she could not think about this now. Now she had to focus on helping the Order of the Phoenix bring an end to the war. She knew that the Order and the Ministry of Magic had more important priorities than looking for Draco. She didn't ask for updates on the matter. She had briefly considered looking for Draco herself but she knew that it would be foolish. As much as it pained her to know that Draco was in alone and in danger, she knew it would be best to stay and fight so that an end could come to the war. The sooner it ended, the sooner she could find Draco.

Passerbys frowned at the young man who was obviously homeless. Ill dressed for the cold front that had arrived, he wore only a jumper and a knit cap pulled low over his head. He slouched as he walked along the sidewalk, hands shoved into his jeans' pockets, his head down, mumbling to himself about eating and death. People either avoided him or gave him looks of pity. He ignored them.

He headed to his familiar haunt where he could sit for hours undisturbed and enjoy the free heat.

Thank Merlin for public libraries, another great Muggle invention. He was nearly there, it was just on the next block across the street. He wiped a hand under his runny nose and shoved it back into his pocket. Another coughing fit stopped him in his tracks. He didn't notice the dark figure standing nearby, waiting.

"Damn cold! Buggering winter weather! Freezing my bloody arse off"

"Talking to yourself, Draco?' a voice drawled. A wand pressed into his back. "You're sounding like your father."

Remus Lupin entered the study at 12 Grimmuald Place to a scene of apparent normalcy; Harry and Ron having a game of Wizard's Chess, Hermione with a book. Though, upon closer inspection he could see that neither boy was particularly into their game and Hermione was merely staring out the window, her book forgotten on her lap.

"Draco Malfoy has been found," Lupin announced. All three looked up, Hermione's book fell to the floor with a thud as she sat up straight. Lupin continued, "an Order member is bringing him by shortly."

"Here?" Ron clearly sounded put out.

"Where else would they take him?" Hermione shot back.

"Oh, I don't know, Azkaban perhaps?"

"Enough," Lupin interrupted. "There's something I need to share with you first."

All three cast glances at one another. Hermione fretted that the news was about Draco and not good.

Lupin took a seat in one of the vacant chairs, settling in as if what he was about to tell them was no easy task. Tension rose and the three friends waited anxiously.

"As you know, the Order has a spy working within Voldemort's circle. His identity is a closely guarded secret to protect his cover. There are only two current members that know of his alliance. I was only informed shortly before Albus's death." He paused here as if he was recalling the moment.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, because of his ties to the Ministry, is the other member who knows. I'm going to tell you his identity because he is escorting Draco here and, and you should know before he arrives." He smiled feebly at the trio. "It's Severus Snape."

"Are you mad!?" Harry stood up from his seat. "He's not on our side! He killed Dumbedore!"

"I'm aware of that, Harry."

"How can he be on our side when he killed the one wizard whom Voldemort feared?"

"It was planned by Albus himself," Lupin explained.

"What?!" Ron voiced Harry's shock.

"That's ridiculous!" Harry shouted.

"He was dying, Harry."

"What?"

"It was Morvolo's ring. You saw his ruined hand. Albus was dying a slow death. There was no cure."

"But why ask Snape to kill him?!" Harry asked.

"He used the opportunity to save Severus's cover. Bellatrix Lestrange was suspicious. If she were to uncover his true alliance, he would have been killed."

"That's why Dumbledore Petrified me..."

"So you wouldn't interfere," Lupin finished.

"I don't like this at all," Ron said, "Snape and Malfoy here."

"I don't either," Harry agreed.

"You both need to move on!" Hermione snapped. "Harry, you told us about Draco's hesitation that night on the tower! You told us about his break down to Myrtle"

"You mean when he tried to Avada him?" Ron shouted. Hermione was momentarily silenced and Ron continued. "How about the time he nearly killed Katie and me?"

"Neither of you were the intended targets," she argued feebly.

"Oh well, in that case, it's alright then!"

"Now, Ron"

Lupin tried to calm the situation but Hermione continued on.

"He was being blackmailed!" she yelled.

"What about all the years he teased you? Called you mudblood? Wished you dead?!"

"RON!" Harry snapped.

Hermione began to cry. "People can change, Ronald!"

"Are you sure about that?"

"What about me then?" Hermione asked. "I wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for Draco."

Silence finally reigned though the tension was palpable. Before anyone could say anything, the sound of the Floo from the kitchen was heard. At once, Lupin and Hermione stood. Harry and Ron followed hesitantly. Harry offered Ron a look of understanding. Inside the kitchen stood Snape looking somewhat odd in Muggle clothing. Draco stood beside him looking tired, worn and feverish.

Draco didn't recognize the man at first, in part because his fever was making him delirious and in part because the man was dressed in Muggle clothing; a long black coat, black trousers, black shoes and a black fedora. It was the eyes that finally gave the man's identity away. That and a strand of long, black, greasy hair that slipped untucked from beneath the fedora. Draco contemplated making a run for it. Surely the man wasn't daft enough to curse him surrounded by Muggles?

"Don't even think of running," Severus Snape warned.

"Don't take me back!" Draco begged. "Avada me, I don't care! Just don't take me back to that buggering Death Eater!"

"Shh! Quiet, boy! Do you want the Muggles to call the authorities? They'll throw you into an asylum!"

"I don't care! Don't take me back!" Draco was nearing hysteria.

"I have no intention of taking you back to Voldemort," Snape hissed. "If you would stop your dramatics I can explain. Are you going to come willingly or do I need to use the Imperius?"

Draco didn't have much choice. He followed Snape from the street down several blocks and finally to a narrow alley way between two tall buildings.

"Listen to me, I am taking you to a safe place, however, there is something you should be aware of," he paused. "Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley are there."

"What? Potter? Weasley?" Draco was confused, his fever addling his memory. "They're dead, the Death Eaters..."

"Haven't you learned yet not to trust what those idiots say?!"

"But, I was there, I saw..."

"Despite what you think you saw, they are alive and well. Can you behave yourself?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, I guess..."

"Good. Otherwise you'll have to face the Ministry and they may decide to toss you into Azkaban."

Draco shivered at the thought. "Wait, is Hermione there as well?"

"Yes."

Suddenly, Draco felt a tug in his gut and the squeezing sensation of Disapparation. The two Apparated into some anonymous wizarding spot where Draco proceeded to become sick on the floor. Snape merely rolled his eyes and pulled the boy into a nearby grate. A moment later the two emerged into the well lit and scrubbed kitchen of 12 Grimmuald Pace.