.

.

Looking at the road that rises up ahead
I thought I'd learned a thing or two
But this is where it's all made new
N' I gotta throw my hands up
I can't go on if I can't stop

Look the leaves are dead
The moments gone, there's no surrender
Forever now unsaid
The words that might've warmed December
Cos it's all inside your head
Like fragments of a dream you remember
So never mind, your clever mind, never mind me

~Poets Of The Fall, Clevermind~

Another night…He was lying awake thinking. Not that he wasn't tired. He felt exhausted. It must be the constant healing his body went through.

Granger had gone to bed after making him drink some potions. They had tasted hideous!

She had also done some spells, and just like in the morning she had explained him what she was doing.

It was a bit confusing and oddly comforting actually... Having her telling him what she was doing.

He had expected her to just treat him and ignore his complaining. But she had talked in a quiet voice through every movement her wand made. And he had been so astounded he couldn't say a thing.

All of a sudden her wand waving had stopped. She had told him good night and went to her room locking the door behind her.

That wasn't the part that made him thoughtful… But her outburst earlier today... She hadn't confirmed his suspicions of her having been with the order. But he wasn't that stupid. He knew her silence meant that was exactly where she'd been.

But the way she talked about them and their methods. It had made him memorize the few times he had faced The Order on the battlefield. He hadn't had time to think about their behavior then, but now thinking back… If you called yourselves 'the side of the light' or 'good' so to say, shouldn't you avoid killing? Try to put your opponents through some trial or something? Especially when the ways, in which, The Dark Lord kept his followers in line, were well known. Everyone was aware of the threats and his usage of Imperius. Still he had seen them shooting killing courses, not caring who was behind the mask of a Death Eater... Damn, he had seen those unwilling to fight been killed while forced on the battlefield. He had been aimed at himself, though he hadn't used Avada. Actually he had done his best not to use any dark courses on the battlefield…. Not that he was ever going to admit that...

But then they had been just two sides of the war. In a war, you caused death or became dead. But now, thinking of Hermione Granger he knew: She must have thought they were the better side. Above the war, making charges to those who deserve it, killing the once who deserve to be killed. She had had noble reasons to fight this war. And slowly, it seemed, she had come to recognition that 'the side of the light' was barely a side of the good.

No matter who won, someone had to suffer. What fool of a witch she was, not being aware of that before? What black and white world she had been living in? Some fairy tale where the bad ones got what they asked for?

Suddenly he felt angry. He had lost all the best people he had known... Not that you could call them downright good, but anyway...

His mother had been killed in front of their eyes for her betrayal. His father had done nothing to stop them. Just watched as Draco had fought and yelled and finally been hit by Cruciatus so many times he could barely move for a week.

Then Pansy, who didn't want to fight, didn't want to go to the raids and refused to aim to kill. She had been hit with Avada by someone from The Order on her first raid...

After the women's deaths his two best friends Blaise and Theo had disappeared during an attack. He had been left alone.

That was what the Orders and the Dark Lords actions had done to him... Taken everything.

Side of the light and dark, my ass.

It had been six months after the boy's disappearance when Granger had found him from the forest.

Granger had said that she had seen him that day. Like this wasn't humiliating enough. That made him even angrier: to know she knew he was weak.

But he had been so lonely and desperate and full of this war shit!

He had managed to keep it quiet for years before the Dark Lord had realized his weakness. And He had sent him to kill that family.

But Draco was not a killer. Even if he tried to turn his mind off and do it, he couldn't. All he could think of was that there were children.

He had been taught to hate every muggle and treat them as lower breed. But even if they'd been animals, he couldn't kill a child. And by that he had sentenced himself to die.

And now he was here. He was humiliated, couldn't move, locked inside an apartment of his school time nemesis, whom he had treated so badly, he still couldn't understand why she would just heal him and let him go.

No, that did not make sense. She had something else in mind and he would find out what that was.

But first he was going to sleep.

.

.

.

"Malfoy! Wake up!"

She was shaking him. Annoying bitch!

"Wake up now!"

"Get of Granger!" He muttered

"No, Draco, you need to wake up! You're bleeding!"

Suddenly he could hear the panic in her voice, but still he didn't feel like caring much.

"Stop fussing and let me sleep!"

It had been three days. And he was constantly tired. He woke up to eat and to go to the bathroom, but other than that he had been sleeping. He did not even know what Granger had been doing. But he really did not care as long as he could go back to sleep.

And now the fucking wench was shaking him again.

"Do not go back to sleep Malfoy! I need you conscious, so I can figure out what is wrong with you!"

Giving in, he opened his eyes and BANG! The pain hit him like a bludger on full speed! His insides were on fire!

"Are you in pain?"

"Fuck!" Was all he could get out of his mouth.

The sheets around him were red, his blanket was red. There was blood everywhere. His blood! What the hell was happening?

"I came home and found you like this!" Her panicked voice said. "I don't know what's wrong!"

"I'm dying!" He chocked looking at his hand that was dripping blood.

"No! No you are not! I forbid you! I will not let you die! I refuse to! I'll sort this out."

The next thing he noticed was her ripping his shirt open.

"Oh my god" She whispered.

"What!" He attempted to look but she blocked him.

"Nonono! You shouldn't look! I-I think some of your wounds have opened again!"

"But you said that you healed them!" His protest was weak, and his mind felt cloudy.

"I did!" she squeaked.

She waved her wand and muttered spells. He gritted and stared the ceiling.

After an amount of time, he was not sure how long, she stood and fetched him a glass of anti-pain potion.

"I managed to end the bleeding. But I think I need to find a stronger spell or the wounds will open up again."

He closed his eyes and let the potion kick in. He really didn't care as long as the pain would go away, and he could sleep again.

"Malfoy! Did you hear me? I think you should stay awake for a while and drink this potion too." Her tone was calmer but demanding. "You lost a lot of blood, this will restore it."

Unwillingly he opened his eyes and reached for the potion she gave him.

While he drank, she picked some books from the shelf and the floor.

The potion, once again, tasted hideous, like iron and rust. He made a face.

"I can't believe it." she huffed "You were nearly dead and still swallowing a potion that is saving you makes you gag."

He ignored her and closed his eyes again, "Now can I sleep?"

"Yes, I think you should. I'll try to find out what kind of curse that is on your chest."

.

.

.

He was drifting for days. Sometimes Granger was there muttering spells. Sometimes she was forcing food down his throat.

Other times it was Pansy standing next to his bed, talking softly, words he couldn't quite understand...

Some of his dreams were full of spells, flashing lights, dying and bleeding. Others showed him people he used to know, faces he recognized and couldn't put names on, and sometimes even his family and friends...

Blaise was laughing loudly on the back yard of the manor and the next moment he was hit by a green light.

He, Draco, was lying on the ground injured... His mother was singing a lullaby.

Granger stood on the rock above him, with blazing eyes screaming "I refuse you to die!"

He woke up with a jolt.

Granger was by him in seconds.

"Are you awake? Thank god! I wasn't sure if I got you to swallow enough of the potion."

She took her wand out and started checking him.

"I found out what made you bleed again. They've used a curse that renews itself without being cast again. I found a potion that slows the process down, so I have more time to find a counter curse. You've been out for days and I started to get worried your insides were bleeding without me noticing. How are you feeling?"

It was confusing really, to have her talk so much, all at once. How was he supposed to understand all that after just waking up?

"Like shit." He answered anyway, "But not like bleeding inside."

"No, examination spell didn't point any internal bleeding, so I think you're ok for now. I'll get you something to eat."

She got up and brought him soup.

After that their days seamed to settle in some kind of a pattern: She cast healing spells every morning and evening. He drifted in and out of sleep most of the day, not having much else to do. When she was home, she usually had her nose on one of her books.

Sometimes she added some spells to the originals she performed on him. Every time that happened she told him why she was doing it.

Almost every day she went somewhere and when she returned she rarely was in a good mood. He wanted to ask her where had she been, but he didn't know how to, since they weren't exactly talking much.

Sometimes he thought of riling her up just to get something to do. But when he started to think of things to say, he suddenly realized he had no energy for that.

It took two weeks before he couldn't take it anymore.

"Granger is your plan to kill me in boredom?" He had used his voice so little it sounded weird even on his own ears.

She lifted her gaze from the book she had been reading by the table.

"Oh, by all means Malfoy, there are books all around you, read them."

"I'm too weak to read." He said

"You have been walking to the loo for days now, I'm sure you can read a book."

He really hadn't paid attention, that he had been walking to the toilet and back to his couch. One morning he had just felt good enough and decided he could walk. It had taken a lot at first, but now it was just a routine he didn't think much of.

"It exhausts me to do that."

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, but you asked for this."

She turned one bookshelf around with a flick of her wand. On the other side was a black box.

"How is that going to entertain me?" He asked suspiciously.

She did something and suddenly there was a moving picture on the box.

"This is TV. It is a muggle device." She turned to look as if he'd have something to complain about that.

He remained silent.

"This," she handed him a black stick with buttons, "Is a remote. You can change channels with it."

He eyed her questioningly.

"It shows different programs in different channels."

He was still staring at her.

"Never mind. Just watch and see." She went back to her book.

"You expect me to find my entertainment in something muggle?"

She could not be serious.

"Well, you refused to read, so that is the only other option I can give you." She sounded almost bored.

No, she couldn't make him do muggle things, he'd rather be bored.

He decided to close his eyes. But when she left after an hour and left the TV on, he couldn't help but to peak. No one was here now, so no one would know he was doing something muggle. No one could judge him.

It didn't take long to be hooked. He had to admit this was a good way of spending time. Muggle cooking was a lot like potion making so he could settle watching that.

When Granger came home and found him staring at the TV she seemed amused but didn't say a word. And maybe, just maybe he had to admit, there might be something good in muggle life.

.

.

.

Time passed. They weren't talking much. On daytime he watched TV or tried to read some of her books.

On the nights he woke up to his nightmares and sometimes his own screams.

First Granger had come to check if he was ok, but after a few nights she had stopped. He was thankful for that.

He really wished he had someone to talk to...

Certainly, he was not going to talk to Granger! That was just not an option... so the silence remained.

She was progressing with his wounds though. They did not open up again, but they hurt and made him weak. She had explained, that the potions he was drinking, were keeping them at bay, but she needed to find a stronger spell to remove the curse permanently. He wondered how long that was going to take.

After a month the walls were closing in. He felt claustrophobic, and did not know how much longer he could take this, before his sanity would be lost.

And then it all changed.

She came home from the order meeting around eleven. He was sitting lazily on the couch, watching some quite entertaining series about five muggles messing around New York. She muttered a quiet 'Hello' and he nodded in return, his eyes never leaving the screen.

A loud crash from the bathroom tore his attention from the show.

What on earth was she doing!?

After hesitating a moment, he got up and limped to the bathroom.

Whatever he had expected to see, was not this. Her flowery perfume bottle was in pieces on the floor. The clear liquid spilled all over and the smell was intoxicating. She sat on the floor, head on her hands and her shoulders shaking.

Shit.

For a moment he considered turning around and leaving her be.

"Come on Granger, no use crying after a spilled smell." He heard himself saying anyway

He expected her to tell him to piss off.

But of course, this time, she didn't. She lifted her wet eyes to him and sniffed.

On an impulse, he sat next to her. Not too close though, so she wouldn't get any wrong ideas of him trying to actually comfort her...

Right after sitting he felt like he was already making a huge mistake.

Should have gone back to the couch!

They sat there in silence. She was crying, and he tried not to feel like he shouldn't be here. But he was a little worried about her, and a little curious too... Was she crying because of what happened in the meeting? Was someone hurt? Or was it something about her personal life? Was she hurt? What would happen to him if she couldn't keep him here?

"This war. It's never going to end." She finally huffed silently

Huh? she was actually going to tell him something?

"Not on us winning anyway. The plans are barely ready when they put them in the action!"

And suddenly she was talking. She told that Longbottom had been badly injured in a mission, which was not properly planned. Weasley had rushed it and she had had no time to fill them in with all the details. Death Eaters had nearly gotten their raid group and besides Neville a few others have had minor injuries. And she had gotten the blame. Especially Weasley had accused her for bad planning.

After ranting a while she suddenly snapped her mouth shut.

Just like that she had told him exactly where she had gone all these days and what she was doing there.

"It wasn't your fault." He said after a while.

Very slowly she turned to look at him.

Shit, Draco shut up!

"You don't even know what it was!"

"I know enough if I know Weasley was leading! If the brightest witch of our age says the plan isn't ready, you should believe it's not ready!"

She was staring at him now with wide red eyes.

He felt awkward, so he got up.

"Come on, this room smells so strongly my eyes are watering!"

"Hey! It was my best perfume!" She protested, but followed him to the living room.

"I feel like I need a drink after all this crying and opening up!" He muttered and walked straight to where she kept her wines.

"What are you doing? You can't take my wine!" She tried, but he was already pouring.

"So, now that we started talking." He went back to the sofa, sitting down. "Are you making all the plans for the order?"

He was honestly pretty curious.

"I shouldn't have told you that." She said quietly.

"Yeah, but you already kind of did. And who am I going to tell? It's not like you are letting me out of here anyway."

She was eying him suspiciously.

"Come on Granger. It seemed like you needed to talk a minute ago."

With a deep sigh she sat down by the table and took a good swing of wine from her glass.

"Fine, it's not like you're going to be able to tell anyone."