Author's Note: Second chapter of today, as promised. Read and review! (:

Chapter 20

I Apparate into the room and immediately have a very, very close-up view of a shirt. I instinctively take a step back and see that Malfoy looks surprised to see me.

"Granger," he says.

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

He nods but doesn't reply, and I wonder what's going on in that head of his. Surely he has something to tell me. Someone else who needs my help could be arriving at Grimmauld Place any minute, and I have to hurry back.

"Well?" I say.

He still doesn't say a word, and suddenly it looks to me as though he's at a loss. I can't help but smile.

"My, oh my," I say, "I never thought I'd see the day when the great Draco Malfoy would be completely speechless."

Still, he doesn't respond. Why won't he say anything? Then he turns around and sits down on the couch. I sigh and wait for him to speak. Does he have something for me or not? Then he smiles, and I feel like I have to spur things on.

"What do you want? 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," he says.

I only came because he said now!

"I promise I won't take up too much of your time," he says, holding a hand up in surrender.

"What did you want to tell me?" I ask.

"I just wanted to apologize for last night."

Whoa, whoa, whoa. What did I just hear?

"Wait, you're—you're apologizing?" I say aloud.

"Yes, that's what I said."

"But… but why?" I ask, bewildered.

He laughs lightly. "Why what?"

Oh, god. Why what, indeed. Why are you apologizing to me? Why did you kiss me the first time? Why did you kiss me the second time? Why did you choose to turn to our side? Why is it that you've never been far from my thoughts since the first time we spoke in three years? Oh… I need to sit down.

"Can I sit?" I ask.

"Sure."

I walk around the coffee table and sit down on the couch, keeping some distance from Malfoy.

Settle for the simplest question first.

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

A frown immediately appears on his face, and I realize that I spoke the last part aloud. I shake my head. "Sorry, that came out wrong."

"I'm apologizing for kissing you," he says. He grins and continues, "I was curious to see how you'd react."

Oh curiosity, was it? Damn him!

"The same way you 'tested' me back at Grimmauld Place?" I say.

"Yeah, sure. Something like that."

Why does he sound so nonchalant? Ugh!

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

"I know, I know," he cuts me off. "That's why I'm apologizing now."

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

He glances at me, and I realize that I probably shouldn't have said the last part aloud. My cheeks grow uncomfortably hot, and I avert my eyes. I glare at the coffee table. I hate that he gets me so worked up.

"What can I do to make it up to you, then?" he asks in a soft voice.

I look over at him, unable to hide my surprise. He looks completely sincere, not an ounce of mockery on his features. His eyes look especially beautiful right now, and suddenly I don't want to look away. Why can't he always look like this? Scratch that—if he always looked like this, then I'd always be hopelessly distracted by him.

I take a deep breath, regaining composure.

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

He only laughs, and I sigh.

"I'm serious."

"It's going to take one hell of a long time to win this war. 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," he explains. "I figure… as long as we're going to be working together, we might as well try to get along."

Okay, that makes sense. "And the kiss was…?" I ask.

"That was just me being… stupid."

He's so… so abnormal today! The Malfoy I knew from school would never admit to doing something stupid, yet he's labeling himself with that word without flinching. What's happening to the world?

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

Wow. He's making a peace offer. I don't even know how I should react. I… I'm supposed to accept, right? This is starting to seem too good to be true, and I begin to wonder if he's about to say that he's only joking and that he would never apologize to a Mudblood like me.

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

What more do I want? He's apologized, and the kiss… while it made me lose quite a bit of sleep and scared me out of my wits—in the aftermath, I mean—it didn't really hurt me, did it? As long as it never, ever happens again, it'll be fine.

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. "You're right, Malfoy. It'll be a lot easier if we're at least civil with each other."

He nods, a relieved smile making his face light up. Again, I start wishing for the familiarity of his smirks and snide comments. No, no. We're going to be civil now. I have to get used to that… that beautiful, near-irresistible smile. Just looking at his mouth makes my lips tingle with the memory of being kissed by him. I hurriedly try to repress my thoughts and remind myself that members of the Order are still fighting as we speak.

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?" I ask.

"Pretty much, yes," he says.

"I should go, then. Members of the Order could be getting back from the battlefield hurt, and I have to help," I reply. I stand up.

"Always so altruistic, you are," he comments. "Do you never do anything for yourself?"

What a strange question. I've always believed that humans are inherently selfish creatures on some level, and I'm no different. "We all do some things for ourselves, don't we?" I reply.

I lift my wand to Disapparate, but his words stop me.

"Granger, wait."

I turn to face him and see a strange expression on his face, one that I don't recognize.

"Take care," he says.

My heart skips a beat. The expression that I see is concern. Concern. Is Malfoy—does he—no, it's simply impossible!

I have to get out of here.

"Thanks, Malfoy," I say quickly before Disapparating.

Appearing on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place, I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. I was seeing things. I was too surprised by his change in demeanor, and I imagined that look on his face. He couldn't possibly care about my well-being.

But he told me to take care. And the tone of his voice… it was… more tender than his voice had ever been before when he spoke to me.

I shake my head. I'll have time to think about this later. I knock on the door, and it swings open almost instantly. Dean Thomas points his wand at me.

"What's your middle name?"

I gasp. "Dean, your arm!"

His left arm is hanging limply at his side, looking frighteningly boneless.

"Answer the question," he barks, his face extremely pale for his normal olive skin tone.

"Jean."

"Where—"

"My parents think they're Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and they're in Australia."

I step into the room as I finish answering the question and shut the door.

"Let me look at your arm," I say.

The kitchen door bangs open, and Fred appears.

"Dean, I thought I told you to stay put!" he says.

The curtains in front of Mrs. Black's portrait fly open, and the familiar shrieks fill the room. I'm distracted by the completely boneless state of Dean's arm.

"I think we have some Skele-Gro in the kitchen—come on," I say, leading the way in.

I hear Fred's furious shout behind me.

"Goddamn it, woman! If you don't shut up, I will set you on fire!"

I walk into the kitchen and see that three more stretchers are occupied, and that Angelina's still in her original place. I tell Dean to sit down on the nearest unoccupied stretcher and Summon a bottle of Skele-Gro from the potions cupboard.

"That tastes awful, doesn't it?" Dean asks me. "Harry told me about it."

"I haven't tasted it myself," I reply.

I pour some of the potion into a cup and hand it to him. He sniffs it and makes a face. I look around and see Colin Creevey lying to Angelina's left and Charlie to her right. On the other side of Charlie is a middle-aged man whom I don't recognize. All four lying on the stretchers are unconscious.

"Ugh!" Dean exclaims, putting down the empty cup. "That was disgusting!"

"Sorry," I say distractedly as Fred reenters the room. I walk over to him and ask, "Who's that man?"

"Muggle," Fred says. "He got caught in the crossfire. Dean brought him back."

"With one arm?" I say, raising an eyebrow.

"He was dying," Dean says. "Aw fuck, my arm hurts."

I mutter a charm to hopefully numb or lessen the pain. "Sorry, but that's all I can do."

"It's all right, Hermione," he says, wincing. "Thanks."

"What did Malfoy tell you?" Fred asks.

I resist the urge to bite my lip nervously. I'm saved from replying when we hear another knock on the front door.

"Forget it, I'll be right back," Fred says.

I step in the way. "It's all right, I'll get it," I say, exiting the room.

I move down the hall quickly and pull open the door. My wand is pointed at Blaise and a barely conscious figure slumped against him.

"Where—" I begin to ask.

"I'm not coming in," he says. "I was bringing her back."

I look more closely and find that the girl is Hannah Abbott. Her skin is tinted an unhealthy shade of green. Blaise transfers her weight onto me, and I shout for Fred to come help. Mrs. Black wakes up again, but I ignore her. Blaise starts to Disapparate, but I speak up to stop him.

"No, wait!"

Fred comes and takes Hannah from me, and I walk out onto the doorstep.

"You're bleeding," I say, using a nonverbal spell to staunch the blood pouring from a cut much too close to his carotid artery.

"I'm fine," he replies, trying to push me back inside. He sways a little on his feet.

"No, you're not," I argue.

But then he gives a hard shove, and as soon as I lose my grip on his arm, he's gone.

"Damn it!"

I walk back into the house and slam the front door behind me. Then I hurry into the kitchen, continuing to ignore Mrs. Black's screams. It'd be pointless to try to shut her up again. When I enter the kitchen, Fred has placed Hannah on a stretcher and is looking at her, bewildered. Tentacles have begun to sprout from her face, arms and chest.

He looks up at me. "How…?"

I sigh. It's going to be a very long night.