Author's Note: I think I'll post the next chapter today as well… because this chapter was short, and the next one is just Hermione's perspective. It'll probably be at night though, because I'll be out all the rest of today.

Chapter 19

I sit down on my couch and rub my temples. My head aches from Voldemort's examination. He was extremely thorough this morning when I presented him with Finnegan's head.

But I succeeded in hiding everything that I wanted to, and that's all that matters.

He taught me a new trick this morning. I'll probably be told to use it on prisoners in a day or two. Oh, won't that be so very fun? I summon an herb from the garden and hold it beneath my nose. Naree told me that it's supposed to help with headaches.

Fuck that, it's not doing anything for me.

I know I should be more patient, but I toss the herb on the table in front of me and heave a sigh.

Granger had better not be caught up in the fight at Nottingham. Knowing her, she'd refuse to be left alone at headquarters. She's not exactly heroic, but she won't sit aside and let others do all the work. It's an admirable quality, but when it means she's putting her life in danger, it irks me to no end.

I ball my hands into fists. Why the hell do I care so much?

I pull the charm out from beneath my shirt. If I want her out of the way that badly, I should just ask her to come here, distract her with some bit of information.

But I don't have any new information to give her. Wonderful.

I suppose I could claim that I wanted to talk to her about last night. Just the thought of tasting her lips again has me gunning for this new idea.

But if she really is out on the battlefield, distracting her with this charm is the last thing I should want to do. Then again, with all the protective charms I cast on that necklace, she should be—should be—safe.

No, I don't want to take that chance.

Fuck! If I can't just let go, I'm doomed. I'll be worrying about her all the time. I should just let her be. No more summoning. That's it.

But even as these thoughts cross my mind, I know I can't leave her alone.

My fist curls around the serpent charm.

Several long minutes pass, and I start to worry about whether or not she will come at all. I get to my feet and start pacing. I have half a mind to go straight to Nottingham and take her right out of the fight.

She appears in front of me, and I almost collide with her, stopping myself just in time.

"Granger."

She frowns. "You look surprised. I thought you told me to come."

I nod, unable to make a sound. I silently curse myself. Her sudden appearance has thrown me off, and I find myself staring at her. Judging from her appearance, she wasn't on the battlefield—she looks unruffled, and her hair is relatively tame.

And then it occurs to me that I didn't have to summon her at all—I could have simply used the Spying Charm that I put on her necklace. Fuck! It's official: I am a pathetically dimwitted man.

"Well?" she says expectantly, watching me carefully.

I stop lamenting my lack of intelligence in all matters related to this… woman and scramble to think of something to tell her. I come up with nothing.

A small smile stretches her lips. "My, oh my, I never thought I'd see the day when the great Draco Malfoy would be completely speechless," she says.

Why does she sound so fucking confident? Where did my confidence go?

I turn away from her and move to sit down on the couch. If I can't regain my own confidence, the least I can do is shake her up a bit. And I know just what to do.

From my seat on the couch, I look up at her and give her a small smile.

"What do you want?" she asks. "The battle's going on right now, and I don't want to waste time here if I don't have to."

"You wouldn't have come if you couldn't spare the time," I say. Before she can protest, I hold up a hand and continue, "I promise I won't take up too much of your time."

Her eyes narrow suspiciously. "What did you want to tell me?"

"I just wanted to apologize for last night," I say.

She seems to be struggling to hide her shock. "Wait, you're—you're apologizing?"

"Yes, that's what I said."

"But… but why?"

I chuckle. "Why what?"

She exhales deeply. "Can I sit?"

"Sure."

She moves to sit on the couch, staying a safe distance away from me.

"Why are you apologizing? You're Malfoy."

I frown.

"Sorry, that came out wrong," she says, shaking her head.

I start to answer her question. "I'm apologizing for kissing you." I let a grin creep onto my face. "I was curious to see how you'd react."

She glares at me. "The same way you 'tested' me back at Grimmauld Place?"

"Yeah, sure. Something like that."

"I'm a human, not a test subject. You can't just—"

"I know, I know," I say, interrupting her. "That's why I'm apologizing now."

"Oh, and is that supposed to make it all better? You had me up all the rest of the night trying to figure out what the hell you meant by that kiss!"

I glance at her. Up all night? Really? I rather enjoy the thought that I rattled her enough to keep her up all night. Her cheeks are a light shade of pink. She probably hadn't meant to say that aloud—at least, not all of it.

I choose not to comment. "What can I do to make it up to you, then?"

From her expression, I can tell that I've surprised her again. I wait patiently for her to speak.

Finally, she asks, "Who are you, and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?"

I laugh. Clearly, she has no idea how much she affects me. Well, let's keep it that way.

"I'm serious," she says.

"It's going to take one hell of a long time to win this war," I say. "I don't plan on dying anytime soon, and as long as we both stay alive, I'll keep passing information along to the Order. I figure… as long as we're going to be working together, we might as well try to get along."

"And the kiss was…?"

"That was just me being… stupid," I say.

She looks shocked that I would call myself stupid.

"My apology… look at it like an olive branch."

I sigh. It really is hard for me to apologize to anyone. I look up at her face, and it becomes easier. Goddamn it, I can't get over how much she affects me!

"Look, Granger, I'm sorry. What more do you want from me?"

My gaze unintentionally rests on her lips, and I suddenly want to kiss her again. No. No, no, no.

"You're right, Malfoy," she says finally, shaking her head. "It'll be a lot easier if we're at least civil with each other."

I nod.

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?" she asks.

"Pretty much, yes." And I wanted to make sure she was all right… but she doesn't have to know that.

"I should go, then. Members of the Order could be getting back from the battlefield hurt, and I have to help," she says, getting to her feet.

"Always so altruistic, you are. Do you never do anything for yourself?" I ask.

She looks at me oddly. "We all do some things for ourselves, don't we?"

I nod. She lifts her wand to Disapparate.

"Granger, wait," I say.

She turns to face me.

"Take care."

"Thanks, Malfoy."

She Disapparates with a quiet pop.

Two conflicting emotions compete inside me—relief that she's out of harm's way and disgust at my own weakness. I won't be able to accomplish anything if I'm always worrying about her safety.

And with that thought, I'm back to square one.

Sighing, I lean back on the couch and close my eyes, trying to think about something that doesn't have to do with that bushy-haired girl.

There's probably a traitor within the Order.

The ambush at the Leaky Cauldron seemed almost too easy to arrange, but I suppose it was doable without inside help. However, I'm sure that Voldemort couldn't have known where Finnegan was going to be last night without an informer.

Yes, the protectors of the Light have themselves a turncoat.