Chapter 32

If there was something Ginny Weasley hated more than anything in the world, it was being told she wasn't allowed to do something. For years it seemed like people were always telling her that she couldn't do this or that for some reason or the other. At first, it was just her brothers, who would tell her she couldn't play Quidditch with them because they were afraid she would get hurt. They would always tell her to go off any play with her dolls like a good little girl, while they would then continue their game. She put up with it at first, but one day when she was nine, she had had enough. She put her foot down and demanded her brothers let her play with them. Of course her siblings had been skeptical at first, but eventually they gave in to the pouting kid. She could tell they were going easier on her, and it wasn't until she got hit by a bludger and had started laughing about it, that they forgot she was a girl and treated her like the rest of them.

At school it was different. When someone mocked her for her family or for her interests, she would simply cast a hex upon them. Within a few months people had learned better than to make fun of her. And whenever they would forget and start up again, all it took was the flick of her wrist, and the perpetrators went running.

But this time it was different. Harry had broken up with her to keep her safe, not because he didn't trust her skills, but because he needed to know she would be alright. She loved Harry; maybe not the same way her eleven year old self had worshiped him, but in a mature way. She had never told him how she felt, because even when they got together, she knew it couldn't last. Harry was a Gryffindor through and through; he was far too loyal and noble to every put anyone in danger for him intentionally. It was really hard to be mad at that.

She sighed as she pushed around the food on her plate. She had been back at Hogwarts for a month, and every day she wished she had been allowed not to return. Ever since Snape had taken over, the school had taken a turn for the worse. There were practically no muggleborns, and the few that had returned did everything to stay in the shadows. They received mediocre marks, they didn't talk unless spoke to, and they did nothing that would make them stand out in anyway. In a way, Ginny was glad Hermione hadn't returned. Her friend was far too stubborn to step down from the pedestal she had built for herself, and while Ginny admired her for that, she had seen what happened to the muggleborns who hadn't attempted to hide themselves.

The doors creaked open, and Ginny turned her head to the opening of the Great Hall. However, she was one of the few who did. Whenever anyone came late to a meal, it was always because they were being punished. Most of the students turned their heads away to avoid eye contact with the latest victim, however, Ginny looked; she always looked.

It was Neville this time; it usually was him. Neville had changed completely over the summer; while he was still the same as his usual self, now he was more confident and outspoken. He would often speak out against things he didn't feel were right. Sometimes, she wished he would go back to being shy and trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible; at least then he wouldn't be injured as much. But she admired him for saying everything the rest of them couldn't.

As Neville plopped down beside her, she could see theweariness in his eyes. He was personally standing up for all of them, and Ginny wasn't sure how long it would be until Neville got himself killed for them.

She knew that something had to change. They couldn't get rid of the Death Eaters, but perhaps there was something she could do to make life at the school more bearable. Just enough to keep hope alive at the school.

"Neville, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about," Ginny murmured to him in a low voice.

He looked at her interestedly. "And what's that?"

Ginny cast a quick silencing spell around them, these days you never could be too safe. "I want to help you, with the rebellion you're currently holding against the Death Eaters. But I don't want it to be just us. I know a few other people wanted to do something too, and maybe if there are enough of us, we can do some serious damage."

Neville looked at her with a bit of worry. "Harry will never forgive me if something happens to you, you know? Maybe it would be better if you weren't involved. It's one thing that I'm putting myself at risk, that way I'm the only one who suffers. But I'll feel terrible if anything happens to any of you," Neville said as he furrowed his brows.

Ginny scoffed, "I wasn't asking your permission Longbottom. When have I ever needed someone else's approval to do something? And Harry isn't around, is he? He's busy saving the world. And I'm sick and tired of being too young for everything. I want to help too, even if it is for something as tiny as this. I'm doing this whether you like it or not. So are you with me?"

Neville stared at her long and hard before smiling. "What did you have in mind?"

"I want to bring back Dumbledore's Army. He might have died, but he stood for everything we're fighting for. He's still a symbol of the light, and it's only fitting we keep his name as tribute. I want to talk to all the old members and see who's interested in joining up. Then we can do some serious damage to this school."

Neville nodded. "Alright, let's begin recruitment."

"Where are we?" Ron asked, as they stared at the home in front of them. Hermione took a good look at her surroundings, as she tried to comprehend what had happened. One moment, Yaxley had a death grip on her, and the next they were here. She remembered seeing Grimmauld place for a brief moment, before appearing in front of the house they were at now.

"We were followed. Yaxley and probably the rest of the Death Eaters know where our hideout was. So when Yaxley let go, I quickly apparated us to here," Draco said as he made a gesture to the house.

"And where exactly is that?" Ron asked, as he mimicked Draco's hand movements.

"It's one of my parent's summer home. It's on the country side of England, and it's secluded from both worlds," Draco explained. The house looked to be like it was late Victorian and was obviously very well kept. Hermione stared at the house in awe as she felt her inner historian-self take in the breath taking view of the home. From what she could tell, the house was three floors tall and pastel coloured.

"And no one will know if we stay here?" Hermione asked him curiously but also as a safety precaution.

Draco shook his head. "We have so many homes, and it's not as if my parents can up and take a vacation whenever they want. And no one other than my family knows about the existence of this home so we won't get any unexpected visitors. Besides, there's several protection spells on the house, so only a Malfoy or their guests have free reign over the occupants." Draco unlocked the door to the house and let them all in.

Hermione let out a breath, "Thanks Draco. I'm really sorry guys, if I had noticed before we had apparated that Yaxley was holding on to me, maybe I could have hexed him off," She said as she bent her head sadly.

Draco wrapped an arm around her, and using the other hand, he lifted her face so her eyes met his. "Hermione, it wasn't your fault. It was a tricky escape, and we're lucky we got out of there unharmed."

Harry nodded his head. "As long as we have the locket, then it's worth it. We're all safe and the Death Eaters still has no clue about what we're doing. Thanks to your thinking, Umbridge will never know that her locket went missing."

Ron moaned, "But the roast! I was looking forward to that," he said sadly.

"Ron! We're lucky to be alive!" Hermione scolded. "The lack of homemade food is the least of all of our problems."

"Want me to show you to your new rooms?" Draco asked them. For the first time, Hermione looked around the interior of the home. The walls were decorative and traditional colours. There were portraits gracing most of the walls, but they did not appear to be of family members. In the front hall which they currently stood in, was a winding staircase, leading to a second floor. Thankfully, unlike Hogwarts, the staircase did not move.

"Yes, please," Hermione said, suddenly feeling a rush of tiredness. It had been a long day, and she just wanted to lie down for a bit

Draco gave her an understanding nod as he led them up the stairs. To the right of the stairs was a long hall of rooms, however the doors were all closed. Draco gave the first two rooms to Ron and Harry, who entered immediately. Hermione did not stay to see the rooms they had been given; she continued to follow Draco down the hall for a little while, before he came to a halt.

"This is your room," He said, as he opened the door. She walked in, and saw the room immediately adapt to her likings. The room was now a pale blue colour, and was the size of the sitting room of her home. The bed was right in the centre of the room, and was canopy style, with lacy white curtains descending from the top of the frame. There was also a mahogany desk off in the corner of the room, perfect for her to get work done on.

"And if you need me, my room is just down the room," Draco said softy as he came up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and turned her to face him. He placed a kiss on her forehead as he cupped her face with a single hand.

Hermione smiled softy as she snaked her arms around him. She took in his musky scent as she felt him place another kiss upon her face, however this time his lips grazed her nose.

"I've missed this," she said softly as she kissed his lips tenderly. Over the last month, they had been so caught up in their mission, that the two hadn't had much time for themselves.

"Me too," he admitted as he stole a kiss from her. "I love you, Hermione. And even though we are in the middle of a war, I don't want to wait to tell you. I've loved you for quite some time, but there never seemed to be a right time to say it."

She felt her heart leap at his words. While she had never formulated those words in her mind, she had known for a while that she had strong feelings for Draco; stronger than simply caring for someone or liking them. She was never one to say things she didn't mean.

"I love you too, Draco," she said, and before she knew it, his lips crashed down on hers. He pulled her in tighter and closing off the space between the two of them.

Draco sat at the table the next morning as Hermione started cooking them some breakfast. He would have offered to help her, but Draco had never cooked a meal in his entire life. Ron and Harry were still upstairs, and Draco assumed that they were still asleep. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face all morning, as her words still echoed through his head. She loved him back. He stood up from the table and walked over to where she was standing. He slipped his arms around her waist as he began to kiss her neck.

Hermione's breath hitched as she dropped on of her hands to squeeze his. She turned her head slightly and Draco took the opportunity to kiss her soft lips.

"Nooo," a voice moaned out from behind them. Draco turned to see Harry staring at them with a frown on his face. "It's too early for kissing!"

Draco smirked at him, "Potter, it's nearly noon!"

"Whatever. Don't want to see it," he said as he plopped down unto a chair at the table.

Hermione shoved Draco aside lightly as she turned off the heat on the stove top. She then levitated the food onto the table with her wand and placed a few pancakes on each of their plates.

"Food?" Ron cried out as he rushed down the stairs to the kitchen. "Oh Merlin, these smell so good!" he exclaimed as he began to stuff the food down his throat.

"Pace yourself," Hermione scolded her friend lightly, as she and Draco joined them at the table.

"Mhmm," Ron sighed.

The old Draco would have been disgusted at his table manners. He probably also would have thrown in a few retorts about the way he was raised and how Ron was acting like a pig. However, the new Draco simply laughed.

After breakfast had passed, Hermione placed a book on the table. "Now that we've eaten, I need your help with something," she said to the three of them. Draco looked at the book, and saw that it was none other than the book that Dumbledore had bequeathed to her.

She turned the book until she reached a page with Dumbledore's inscription to her. Next, she brought out another book, which Draco saw to be called "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore". Immediately, his eyes widened. While he hadn't read the book himself, he had read the article by Rita Skeeter in the paper where she spoke of the book and the story she had created.

"Where did you get that?" Harry demanded as he pointed to the book angrily.

"Umbridge was reading it. I grabbed it because I wanted to see if there was anything useful in it," Hermione replied.

"It's bloody Rita Skeeter, how could it have any use?" Ron asked.

"She lies about everything!" Harry exclaimed furiously.

"Yes, she does. But there is a basis for all her lies. That story she spun of us together stemmed from a picture of us hugging. While the story was false, there was something for her to build it upon," Hermione said calmly.

Draco remembered reading about that too. He felt slightly guilty, knowing that he was responsible for half the lies spread about the golden trio.

"So even though very little of it may actually be accurate, there must be a little truth behind it," Hermione reasoned.

"Have you read it all already?" Harry asked as he raised a brow. When Hermione blushed, he chuckled. "Of course you did. Well, how bad was it?"

Hermione fidgeted. "It was definitely written by her…"

Harry groaned. "Can I read it after? I want to know what she said exactly."

"It might be better if you don't, Harry," Hermione tried to pursue him.

Draco knew Harry wasn't going to give in too easily, but it was far too early for an argument. "So Hermione, what was it that you wanted to show us?"

Hermione's eyes snapped to him, "What? Oh yes!" she quickly flipped Skeeter's garbage to a certain page. On it appeared to be a letter from Dumbledore to Grindelwald. Draco quickly skimmed the contents of the letter, and his eyes widened in shock. Dumbledore was spurting out similar thoughts to the ones that You-Know-Who was using as ideals for his war.

"Is this real?" Harry said at last as he finished reading the letter. He had a grim look on his face, and Draco could imagine the thoughts going through his mind.

"Yes," Hermione said. "But a lot has changed since then, you don't know what he's been through, and neither do I. He was young then," Hermione said, trying to defend their former mentor.

"No! He's the exact same age as we were, and here we are saving the world, where as he's trying to destroy it," Harry nearly shouted.

"Harry, Dumbledore was over a hundred years when he died. This letter was decades ago. Yes, Dumbledore probably was always incredibly wise, but some of that came from age. He was foolish once; don't tell me you've never done something to feel more powerful?" Draco said, trying to reason.

He watched the wizard shake his head. "I don't want power, nor do I want fame. Yet he seems to be grasping it with open arms. It's like I never even knew him."

"Harry, you did, mate," Ron said softly. "You knew him better than probably anyone. He would have told you, but I bet he felt really ashamed of it. Wouldn't you?"

Harry sighed softly, "You're right. You all are. Hermione, what were you trying to draw our attention to?"

Hermione, once again, had nearly forgotten about what she wanted to show them. "Here," she said as she pointed to Dumbledore's signature in the 'Tales of the Beedle and the Bard'. The A of Albus appeared to be a triangle with a stick and circle inscribed in it. She then pointed to the biography and there was the exact same mark. "That cannot be a coincidence," she said.

Ron and Harry both shook their heads at the symbol.

"You're the one who took Ancient Runes," Ron said.

"Xenophilius Lovegood was wearing a necklace at Bill's wedding," Harry said. "Krum asked me about it, and said it was Grindelwald's mark. And if both Dumbledore and Grindelwald used it, maybe that's what he was trying to tell you?"

Draco however remained silent. He knew exactly what it was.

"Draco?" Hermione prompted once she realised that he was still silent.

"No. It's older than that; much older. That's the sign of the Deathly Hallows."