Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They all belong to JK Rowling.

"None of us knows what might happen even the next minute, yet still we go forward. Because we trust. Because we have faith." - Paulo Coelho

Taking a huge breath, Hermione steadied herself for the stares she would receive as soon as she stepped into the small kitchen. Was it only paranoia that was spawning her apprehension on the situation at hand?

The night before had single-handedly become one of the worst she had ever experienced and she was ready to make amends as quick as she could. Her hand rested on the doorknob. Her heart tingled with a rush of trepidation, flooding her veins as she slowly pushed on the door. All conversations ceased when they spotted her standing uneasily in the doorway. From every point of the compass they were watching her closely, noticing the forlorn and doleful expression that was smeared across her face. This is going to be a very long day.

The only noise that could be heard was the crackling of the presently placid fire and the slight gurgle that came from Bill and Fleur's little baby girl, Victoire. Her blonde hair shone uncommonly bright in the dark room, a mirror image of her mother's. She would be beautiful when she grew up. Hermione could see the way people were already drawn to the baby, ensnared by her Veela-inherited traits.

Hermione smiled hoping to pacify the awkwardness that hung about the room and on all their faces. They seemed to feel more at ease as soon as she did, timidly smiling back, some having enough courage to pipe up and greet her. Though she couldn't quite shift that heavy feeling from heart as easily. She knew it took time to heal— from her actions, from her loss, but she was damaged somehow. A piece of her was missing, perhaps not for forever, but until she retrieved what she had lost, or something to fill the hole.

Everyone was there except the person she was so desperate to speak to. What had irrevocably etched itself into her memory taunted her mercilessly all that night. Her mind would be haunted by her actions until she found Ron, only when she saw the gleam of forgiveness flash across his eyes would she be at peace. She did not expect him to see eye to eye on issue of Malfoy's apparent defection, but she did not want to make enemies of her only allies.

She knew she had to inform the others of her meeting with Malfoy. Yet dubiety still pumped around her, a never-ending cycle of indecision that related to the youngest Malfoy. No one would understand except Harry. However, with the presence of all the residents of 12 Grimmauld Place, she was not tempted to face the same reaction that she had been greeted with the night before.

Sitting down as quietly as she could, she began to nibble on a piece of toast wanting to settle the nauseous feeling that was spreading throughout her stomach. It was like she had used the Time Turner for the first time, her fear had evaporated and her confidence had boosted from the feat, but sickness still resided from her waxing anxiety. Mrs Weasley sidled toward Hermione with a plate of food that held enough eggs and bacon to feed half the students at Hogwarts. She grinned as she gently placed the young witch's breakfast down in front of her, warmly patting her on the back. Hermione nodded in appreciation as she dug down into the mountain of food, although, she soon returned to eating toast.

As Hermione looked up to ask for the jug of Pumpkin juice she was met with an ambush of more than half a dozen pairs of eyes. Clumsily, she took hold of the handle of the juice, her hands shaking so much that the juice nearly spilled on herself and those around her. Harry continued to gaze on, watching as his most loyal friend was becoming the living embodiment of Trelawney before their very eyes. She was still nervous about what had happened the night before, unsure of her decision.

"So, did anyone hear about the match between the Montrose Magpies and the Harpies?" He put forward waiting for someone to respond, wanting to break the silence and tear everyone's gaze away from Hermione.

"Oh, Lee couldn't resist. It was all over Potterwatch last night. Said they were literally neck and neck until Gwenog Jones knocked out Alasdair Maddock with that Bludger," George interjected. His face suddenly became animated and livelier than any had seen since the death of his twin. He still cracked a joke and played pranks at the expense of others, but they were few and far between. He knew what Harry was doing, and was all too willing to help.

Ginny's head snapped up as soon as she heard her brother's report of the match. The girl was very much a Holyhead Harpies fan and never allowed someone to slander their name, even if that someone was a member of her family, "You're implying it's Jones's fault. More like Maddock. The man's barmy! Last year he tried to hit the Quaffle with his head like they do in that Muggle sport, Toeball."

Most the table burst out laughing.

"It's Football," Hermione giggled. She knew Ginny sometimes had difficulty with Muggle Studies, but even so the amount Mr Weasley spoke about Muggles it was amazing she could get something so trivial wrong. Hermione may have been able to recite Hogwarts: A History as quickly as the redheaded girl could Quidditch Through the Ages, but the Muggle-born knew her knowledge was somewhat lacking still on Wizarding sports just as much as Ginny's was on Muggle sports. So it was a nice compromise, in Hermione's opinion. She could not help but smile at the young girl beside her.

Silence ensued, but it was far from being uncomfortable. Hermione then knew that she had their support; strengthening the faith she had in them. Far more relaxed, she stood planning to take the dish and wash it Muggle style. At least then she would have some time to think things over on what she must do. Yet when Ron stood in plain sight in the doorway, everyone froze again, reacting very much like they had when Hermione first walked in less than ten minutes before.

However being Mrs Weasley, the woman's grin never faltered, quickly taking the plate from Hermione's grip, she refused to allow her to do it the hard way.

"Go, my dear. I think someone wants to speak to you," Quickly shooting her son a warning glance; she tapped the young girl's shoulder edging her toward Ron standing in the doorway. He then took a step back and began to pace away up the stairs once again.

She scurried out of the kitchen, following her friend into the empty study, closing the door quietly behind her. She studied his every movement as though she were studying a set of runes, trying to decipher his blank demeanour from afar.

She could remember the aftermath of her attack, still recalling the stream of blood that trailed down his pallid cheeks, gaunt from the sudden change he saw in Hermione. But as she peered at him noticed that the gash was nowhere to be seen, like a slate wiped clean.

They stared at one another for a long while until he began to speak. Taking short, uneven breaths Ron steadied himself as he tried to look her in the eye, wanting to assure Hermione that he would not lose his temper as he had done the night before.

"Hermione, I hope you can forgive me—"

"Ronald Weasley," She interrupted. He took a wary step back, hoping he had not said the wrong thing, but as soon as he heard the gentle tine she addressed him with a wave of relief passed over him, "I should be the one apologising. Never in my right mind would I ever have done such a thing as to hurt you. I— I was in a bad place and my reaction was because of that and only that."

She saw his eyes soften. She felt the tears well up in her eyes when she saw it.

"I love you so very much, Ron."

His cheeks became flushed; a ruddy glow bestowed itself carelessly over his face, creating a haphazard pattern all over. She couldn't help but smile. Her love was something akin to platonic, but she knew he thought their relationship to one another was more than just friends.

He lent forward, closing the gap between the two of them.

It was the wrong time for this, especially during a war. But quieting her uncertainty that fought into her thoughts, she stepped forward and swiftly planted a kiss on his lips. Pulling away she looked on his peaceful face; he opened his eyes and smiled sweetly, but still slightly shocked. The last time they had kissed was amidst a battlefield, and then it felt more spontaneous and breathtaking. This time it was like a kiss of reassurance and forgiveness.

"Ron, just trust me," She whispered as he held her in a gentle embrace. She went to pull away but he held her tighter.

"I don't want to lose you, Hermione," He breathed into her ear. She looked up at his face dressed in worry. He too had felt the loss of someone and was so desperate not to allow anyone else he cared for to die at the hands of Voldemort. She had nearly died, but luck had been on her side. However, he got the impression that she may not be as lucky next time, especially if Malfoy was not there to protect her once more.

"Ron, I have to tell you. I contacted Malfoy last night," He began to object, but she put a finger against his lips, wanting to explain further.

"Tell Harry, but not the others. Unless something happens to me, only then should you inform them of my decision. Only then, Ron. Just trust me, trust my judgement. If I'm right this could be our chance to defeat Voldemort once and for all. And it's a chance I'm willing to take."

"Just promise you'll come back safely— for me at least."

"I can't promise you, but I will try," He held Hermione tight for a moment longer, before he let her go. Watching as she hurried out of the room, his heart beating faster than he thought possible. Malfoy would be a dead man if she came back hurt, and he, Ronald Bilius Weasley, would see to that personally if ever that were to happen.

The crisp morning air seeped through her coat, freezing her to the bone. The weather had turned for the worst and she was not prepared to walk all the way to meet a certain Draco Malfoy.

Making sure that no one was about, she apparated into the alley beside the pub aptly named 'Bag O' Nails'. She could hear men laughing from within as she spotted a cat steal away round the corner into the street teaming with the residents and visitors of London. Hastily escaping the stench coming from the overflowing waste, she walked out to join the crowds of people.

Hermione briskly walked down the street past Buckingham Palace, the hundreds of people that flocked from around the world stood staring through the black gates hoping to catch a glimpse of the Queen. It was amazing to think that even after the attack on London during the Death Eater raid a few years back that people still wanted to venture into London.

Yet the accident was put down as being a failure in the designs for the bridge, but who knew what lies the Minister of Magic fed the British Prime Minster. So long as the Wizarding world was not exposed by the careless and cruel acts of Voldemort's minions then any fabrication would suffice. She never once spotted a face, neither Muggle nor Wizard alike that she knew. She was not surprised that wizards would not roam London freely, yet it seemed to her, even with the events that had passed that to be a Muggle at the moment was safer than not being one.

Regardless, Hermione's thoughts still travelled ahead to her meeting with Malfoy, each time causing her to delay her arrival. She knew she had to persuade him to join in the Order's fight against Voldemort, but how much would he be risking by doing so? It was not a matter of just changing sides. He would have to face the repercussions if ever he were to be caught. His family, too.

Although she continually reminded herself that she would have to wait to speak to Malfoy before she worried about result of their actions. He would choose what path he would take, not her. But the risk she was taking was resting solely on his decision. If he decided to help, she could not deny him, but if he did not want to then she would be in a grim position. This is foolish, Hermione! You don't even know whether he's worked out the riddle, let alone coming!

Avidly watching those about her Hermione waited for any sign of Malfoy's presence. Many walkers were carrying bags from the thousands of shops that lined the streets of London. Some were jabbering on about an overbearing mother-in-law that was coming to annual dinner or the lack of time to buy the rest of the Christmas presents.

Christmas?! Is it that time already?

She shook her head. How could she have forgotten? Everything had become so muddled after her parents' death that she had no sense of time. It was strange; so much had passed in the past couple of days that it felt more like months rather than days. The pang of sadness fell over her as she thought of her mother and father, but she knew she must not let it win her over or else everything she had planned would go awry. Her plan to seek revenge on their murderer would be destroyed. This was her chance to do that. She didn't have the time to make a mess of it.

Allaying her sorrow, she watched the various little children playing by the pond as their worrisome mothers pulled them forcefully away. They were worried about the oncoming assault of rain and wanted to hurry home before it had time to strike. The clouds hovered above like an omen, blocking all light that had previously descended in beams of soft sunlight. Hermione smiled down at one particular boy who dragged his feet, tugging at the back of a woman's overcoat, who in turn was pulling him along, chastising him for his unruly behaviour.

"Grandmother, I don't want to go!" His mousy brown hair turned a sudden shade of green, as she turned and frowned upon the young boy.

"Teddy," It was Teddy Lupin, orphaned during the Battle of Hogwarts when the close followers of Voldemort had ruthlessly murdered both of his parents. She remembered him as a baby and even then he displayed uncanny similarities to both Professor Lupin and Tonks. Harry saw him as often as he could, bound by duty and love to his young godson. He wanted to be what Sirius had promised him, but never had a chance to fulfill. The wizard's vow had been tarnished over the past few months as Voldemort's attacks had increased in fervour and number. Less and less people were allowed to see Harry, even those the Order could trust. Everyone was a possible spy and precautions were needed to prevent anyone knowing his whereabouts. So, Teddy became one of many that had been cut out of his life, much to Harry's anger and dismay.

Looking around her, Andromeda Tonks hoped no one had noticed the abrupt change of her grandson's hair. Then at last her gaze landed on Hermione standing awkwardly amidst the reams of tourists. The young witch knew the woman had seen her, yet Andromeda turned and began to walk briskly away down the path with Teddy in tow.

Taken aback, Hermione could not fathom as to why she had snubbed her so. Trying to keep pace with the pair, she began to run toward them as they sauntered past the algae infested waters of St James's Park.

Practically lunging the last couple of steps, she reached them both, grabbing on to Teddy's shoulder with no intention of letting go until Andromeda spoke to her. The young wizard swivelled around like a shot, wondering who it was that was clinging onto him. Andromeda took no heed and continued walking, drawing the boy away and out of Hermione's hold.

"Andromeda?" Hermione queried as her brow knit in a tight frown as she stopped, numb with confusion. The woman glanced behind her briefly, waving her hand telling the witch to follow her.

"Keep walking. You must hurry, they're coming," Andromeda anxiously whispered to Hermione out of the corner of her mouth.

"Death Eaters?" She barely managed to get the two words out, fearing their presence once again.

"Draco said he was to meet you here, but some how they caught wind of it. I came to warn you," The elderly woman watched on, noticing the confusion on Hermione's face stem into concentration as she formulated a plan in case of an unexpected attack.

"Where is he?"

"He will turn up as soon as he can, but Hermione, don't expect him to agree. He is very much the teenager you once knew at Hogwarts. Old prejudices die hard, but I know he wants this war to end just as much as everyone else. Give him a chance," She was about to ask how the woman knew of her plan to win Malfoy's allegiance, but was silenced as the woman started to walk even quicker.

Andromeda pulled her along as though she were little Teddy. Taking a huge breath, she waited as her nerves slowly got the better of her and her heart began to beat so fast that it was like a bird trying, in vain, to fight its way out of a cage.

As she steadily paced herself and her escalating heart rate, she felt someone move beside her, walking in exact unison with herself. Glancing at the newcomer out of the corner of her eye, all she saw was a figure clad in black, tall and slender. The stranger unexpectedly seized hold of her arm lugging her away from the Andromeda and Teddy, the latter still trying to follow Hermione even when his grandmother resolutely carried on with her trudge down the long path.

He held onto her arm tightly, not allowing her one moment to regain her footing as he pulled her away. Hermione turned to look upon the face of Draco Malfoy. Andromeda had been right he had decided to come. Her heart soared with gratification, but no sooner had she felt a sense of relief when it was quickly dragged asunder by her doubts that gnawed away as she looked at him. He veiled his face with a blank façade not betraying a single emotion.

Taking her under the shelter of the overhanging trees, his gaze finally laid rest on her distressed face. She smiled tentatively, watching as his eyes never left her, awaiting her reasoning behind meeting him.

"You worked out the riddle," He smirked at her. When she realised how blatant her remark was she nearly blushed in embarrassment, she hoped he would pay it no heed. But being Malfoy, she knew he would never let a mistake slip away, especially when the famous Hermione Granger made it.

"Of course, Granger. Or else I wouldn't have been here. To be honest, it was painfully obvious. Maybe being friends with Scarhead and Weaselbee has finally addled your brain," She sent him a dark look, but nothing could beat the intensity of his stormy eyes as he paused for retaliation. They still frightened her as much as before. His eyes had haunted her as she tried to sleep, invading her thoughts and dreams, turning to the plaguing nightmares of her uneasy slumber. It had only been a couple of days yet his eyes seemed to have been engraved in her memory from then on. He may have changed, but he still had a dark feel about him that she could not shake. He was not a friend but only an ally. Allies could be useful, but still had the potential to be hostile. They could turn to enemies as quick as wink and never bat an eyelash at their perfidy.

"I wanted to thank you—" She began as she reached out to touch his arm in gratitude, forgetting herself and who he was entirely. Malfoy whipped his arm away from Hermione's caress, sneering down at her.

"Do not thank me, Granger. Don't think I've changed,"

She looked on at him, antagonized by his inconsistent and contradicting actions, "Why are you doing this?"

He looked away, his mind in a state of turmoil, unsure of what he should do or say. She watched him as he stared across the small body of water, his eyes drawn to the little water display that cascaded gently down into the mucky waters of the lake.

"Malfoy just tell me. I can help. Let me help you so that we can end this war once and for all."

He shook his head in incredulity as he turned back around to gaze on her once more, "Don't you get it, Granger? I was meant to kill you that night. Why would you want me to help after what I put you through?"

"Dumbledore once tried to assist you. Let me give you the chance to take—"

"For Merlin's sake Granger! Dumbledore is dead! How do you think anyone can stop this war?! It will just keep going and going until everyone is dead or too afraid to fight! Forget peace, Granger, it will never come to be."

She looked around and saw many passers-by watching the two fixatedly as Malfoy finished his heated tirade, wishing he had not shouted as much as he had. She glared at him in disgust as he put the tree further between themselves and the decreasing amount of onlookers, the trunk practically engulfing both he and she in its magnitude. This is pointless me doing this if he doesn't even want to try at least!

Cursing his jaundiced ideals under her breath, she tried to get by Malfoy to locate Andromeda and Teddy, but a firm hand gripped onto her arm once more, roughly shoving her back against the trunk of the tree. She struggled against his hold hoping to break loose. As he had done that night at her parent's home, he held onto her forearms restricting her movement even further, pinning her down. The sharp pieces of bark slashed into her back like small knives from behind.

"What was that, Granger?" She swiftly looked away from the man as she caught onto the sinister tone in his voice as his hand shot up and grabbed her chin. Her eyes were wild with fear as he slowly leant toward her. She tried to push him away, but as hard she may try he would not relinquish his proximity.

Hermione could feel his weight increase on her as he lent in further. She tired to wrench her face from his vice-like hold, but failed. She did not want him to get any closer, the scene reminding her too much of the time before. And if she were correct she knew what he would do next as he gazed intently into her frightened eyes.

"Speak up, Granger. It's not very becoming on a woman to mumble," Her anger flared at his remark. How dare he?! Tired of his insults her fury got the better of her, hindering her proper judgement.

"I said, 'You are nothing but an arrogant, vile bastard.' I stood up for you, even when my friends believed me insane for doing so! If you're that keen to be so much like your father then why don't you just run back like a sniveling little lackey" Wrenching her arm from her grip she slapped him hard across the face, a moment of déjà vu flashed before her eyes. This was the second time she had hit Draco Malfoy and this time she knew he might not let it go.

Furiously, he grabbed a hold of both her wrists, squeezing them so tight she thought they would snap in half. He glared down at her, his rage cast over him like a dark storm cloud ready to burst.

"You may have gotten away with this when we were younger, but if you ever slap me again, Granger—"

"You'll what?!" Anger had a tight grip on her senses, her worries and fear of Malfoy strangled and choking under the unbearable pressure.

As soon as the words passed her lips, she regretted it. She had enticed his anger far enough, but now she had practically walked into a lion's den, or rather into a pit of snakes.

He raised his hand high and struck her across the cheek. Hermione felt the astonishment wash over her as she tasted the blood oozing onto her tongue. Her eyes welled with tears, trying to choke back an impending sob. His eyes were dark as he inspected her face full of emotions. She could not see pity when she looked to him, only the feeling that his actions were just.

"If you hit me, Mudblood, I won't hesitate to hit you back harder."

Fear washed over her, as he slowly let go of her trembling body. She could hear a gust of shouts coming from a few metres away. They continued to stare at one another until they could clearly hear the voice of Andromeda Tonks beside the two, berating Malfoy's abusive behaviour.

"Draco Malfoy, I thought your mother taught you better than to strike a woman!" The woman ran forward and pushed him away from Hermione, cupping her hand against the swollen wound that spread across from the hit. The old woman's hands were shapped and cold; her delicate skin was so thin and pale that in some places you could see the blue tracery of veins that wrapped themselves around them.

"You know aunt, I find that when a woman strikes at a man, he has every right to do the same. Don't you?" The older woman looked on incredulous to his remark. He had been such an even-tempered child yet when something went against his wishes he was quick to break out in a fit of temper. Surely due to this spoiled upbringing. Even still he was her sister's son and she would never expect behaviour such as that to come from her. He must have gotten that from the Malfoys she concluded.

"Draco," She murmured gently to her nephew.

His face portrayed indifference as Andromeda spoke to him.

He took a deep breath, trying to quell his unseasonable anger. Something in her comment had riled, had hit home, and he hadn't liked the sound of it. Maybe because he knew that some part of, deep down, he knew she had tapped into his deepest fears: becoming a brainwashed victim of Voldemort's reign. Looking away quickly, he started to study young Teddy, as the boy's little inquisitive eyes watched the commotion attentively. Malfoy smiled at him trying act like nothing had happened only moments before. This change startled Hermione, sending her into a state of disbelief.

He quickly knelt down on the grass before his cousin, which caused both Hermione and Andromeda to watch on in curiosity, as he greeted Teddy. Malfoy held out his hand and showed that it was empty to the boy. They were slightly red. Serves him right! She thought, but her satisfaction was snuffed when she saw no similitude with his cheek. It was as pale as before, not even a scratch seemed to register under her scrutiny.

He cupped his hands together and then pulling them away he revealed a small snake resting in the palm of his hand. It hissed slightly as it peered on the faces of the inspecting strangers. Leisurely, slithering out of Malfoy's hands, it began to slink towards Teddy, who looked on without any unease.

Andromeda made a move to stop it, scrambling for her wand, but Draco held up his hand, rising to his full height.

"It's alright. It won't harm him."

The creature wound its way up the boy's body until it rested in his tiny hands, and burst into angry green flames, uncovering a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Teddy's face lit up when he spotted the sweets, running forward as he hugged Malfoy's legs. Smiled down at the boy, little awkwardness in his response. He looked up at Hermione, locking her astonished gaze.

"Some things may appear to be dangerous on the outside, but you must wait before striking. Or else, they will become as murderous as you believe them to be."

Sirius had always noted how there was bad blood between the Tonks and the Malfoys, but it somehow seemed that the young Pureblood had better relations with Andromeda and Teddy than it was thought possible. The old woman had been disowned by her parents when she had run off and married someone that was decidedly below her station. Yet the familial bond that had been broken many years ago by a generation long gone seemed to have been mended. Hermione wanted to know how and why. But now was not the best time to ask.

"Tell me what it is that the Order wants so that I may leave," he demanded, impatiently waiting for Hermione to speak. He knew they had to leave soon.

"I didn't come by order of the others. I came based on what I felt was best. But I must have been wrong, mustn't I?" She shook her head in dismay. She was losing the chance to employ Malfoy's help, and each moment that passed the likelihood of that happening became slimmer and slimmer.

"Indeed. Your knowledge never ceases to amaze me, Granger," He turned and looked at her with a fierce glare, "Aunt, leave us for a while. We have unfinished business to attend to."

She began to protest, but Hermione smiled the best she could, patting Andromeda on the shoulder, "Take Teddy and go. It's not safe to stay here any longer."

Malfoy nodded in agreement.

The woman turned and looked into the face of her nephew. She saw the good in him, but she saw the bad that had rooted deep in his soul. She knew that a change was needed for the better, and this was it— this was his only chance to redeem himself. She placed her hand on his shoulder looking his in the eye, raising it to place it tenderly against his cheek. His face hardened. Andromeda smiled sadly.

"Take care, Draco."

With that she took her grandson's hand as he clung to her like a child would his mother. Hermione waved at the young boy as he turned back and shook his hand as though he were swatting away a pestering Billywig. Astonishingly, she noticed Malfoy was doing the same, a small, but strained smile playing on his pursed lips as he did so. That moment between him and his aunt held more meaning than what was openly revealed. And she knew deep down that Malfoy had been affected.

"It's rude to stare, Granger."

"I'm just amazed that a man like you could show such affection toward people who are technically inferior to you, Malfoy."

"They're still my family, Granger."

He began to walk away towards the bridge that lay strewn across the small park. Chasing after him, she grabbed onto his arm, turning his body toward her slightly. His head snapped around, looking at a breathless and windswept Hermione. Her abnormally frizzy hair resembled some sort of muddy animal with enough tentacles to spare. Though he would not have cared to admit, her eyes haunted him just as his had done to her. Sleep had evaded him since the night at her home, the sickness consuming him after he saw all the life leave her in that one instance before she had broke out of his weakened hold.

"Tonight, be prepared," He pulled his shoulder from her grasp, wiping a patch of unseen dirt from where she touched his coat. Taken aback she ran after to query him, hoping to make sense of what he had said.

"For what?" He did nothing, but continued to walk across the bridge, paying no heed to Hermione's shouts. She tried again wishing he would answer her.

"For what, Malfoy?!"

"Oh you'll see, Granger. You'll see," Without a warning, he apparated away. The last thing she saw was not a devious smirk, but an expression full of earnest not surpressing the gravity of the situation. No one had seen him disappear, but as she gazed into the murky depths of the lake, she could not shirk the feeling that someone was watching her.

She looked up, hearing a whoosh, much like the one she had heard when travelling to her parents' home that fateful night. Short of Malfoy's supposed protection, she decided it was better to return to the safety of 12 Grimmauld Place, so she could prepare herself. What for? Merlin only knew.

A/N: Thanks once again for all the lovely reviews! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.