Author's Note: All right, I've decided. I'm not splitting the story up. I have no idea how many chapters this will eventually have, because I definitely did not anticipate ever getting up to chapter 48 (I started this off thinking it'd be over in 10-20 chapters…), but I'm just going to ignore the count and keep writing.

Chapter 48

"We don't need Malfoy."

I sigh, annoyed.

Ron returned almost a full hour after Harry, Blaise and I left McGonagall's place, and though he wouldn't say much, he did tell us that they took their sweet time interrogating him.

We're all fairly certain that someone on the inside must have helped Mundungus escape, and since Shacklebolt decided that Ron could leave, I figure that he must not have found anything incriminating him. Ron was absolutely rotten at Occlumency when he tried it—he's ruled by his emotions even more than Harry—so I'm sure that if he were the traitor, Shacklebolt would surely have discovered it.

"Please stop being difficult, Ron," I say. "We do need him. We wouldn't be so desperate for information if you hadn't been so stupid and let Mundungus escape."

"It's not like I did it on purpose!" he protests.

"Don't snap at her," Blaise says. "You screwed up. Take some responsibility."

"Shove it, Zabini."

"Can you all just shut up?" Harry says irritably. "You're giving me a headache."

"Ginny should probably be waking up soon," I say. "I'll go check on her."

I leave into the next room, and a few minutes later, Ginny wakes.

"Ginny," I say with a small smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Starving…" she mutters. "And really, really sleepy."

"You can't eat for another eight or nine hours," I say apologetically.

She frowns. "Why not?"

"You were attacked by some sort of a worm that started digesting your internal organs. Madam Pomfrey was able to numb you to the pain of re-growing, but you can't eat until your stomach is whole and fully functioning again," I explain.

Ginny closes her eyes, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "That sounds awful…"

"I know. Be grateful that you don't have to feel it," I reply.

"I'm so sleepy," she whispers.

"Good—try to get back to sleep," I tell her. "I'll let you know when you can eat again, all right?"

She nods sleepily, and I pat her forehead gently. She slips into unconsciousness quickly—I can tell when the slight crease between her eyebrows disappears. I reach over and pull the covers more snugly about her shoulders and get to my feet to join the boys in the living room.

"How is she?" Harry asks as soon as I'm outside.

"She was awake for a moment. I told her to go back to sleep, because she can't eat yet," I report. "It'll be best for her to sleep through the hunger."

Harry nods in agreement. "I'll see her later, then. Malfoy should be coming any minute now—it's been over half an hour already."

"Maybe he won't come," Ron says, sounding almost hopeful.

"You should want him to come, Weasley," Blaise says. "Don't you want to redeem yourself, even a little?"

Ron glares at him but doesn't respond.

Then there's a pop, and Draco appears behind the couch, on which Harry and Blaise are seated. They both get to their feet when Draco arrives, but Ron stays seated in the armchair that he'd conjured himself—it's bright red and contrasts sharply with the rest of the room.

"Evening, ladies," Draco says, smirking. "How may I help you?"

Blaise chuckles.

"We need information," Harry says.

"About?"

"Anything," Harry replies. "Locations of Death Eater camps, how strong they are, names of members, how many—"

"Do I look like a walking Death Eater encyclopedia to you?"

"You said that Voldemort told you about his Horcrux. You've got to know something useful," Ron says.

"Doesn't mean I have to tell you anything."

"Ron," I say before he can speak, "can you go check on Ginny?"

"But you just checked on her."

"That wasn't the point, Weasley," Blaise says.

"What, are you trying to get rid of me?" Ron says, looking at me angrily.

"We'll tell you what we find out," Harry says.

Ron huffs and gets to his feet. "I'll go make myself something to eat," he says, disappearing into the kitchen.

My eyes are on Draco—I noted that his hand was resting on the back of the couch when he appeared, and I didn't think too much of it at the time, but it's still there, and he hasn't moved an inch since he arrived. I hope that I'm just thinking too much.

I see that he's looking at the red armchair with distaste, but I'm surprised when he doesn't do anything to remove the offending furniture.

"Malfoy," I say, "are you all right?"

He smirks. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Draco, we really do need—" Blaise starts.

"Yes, yes, I know. Mundungus Fletcher is with us—they're trying to break the Fidelius Charm through torture," Draco says.

"They… they can't do that, can they?" Harry asks.

"I don't think so. But if Voldemort does the job himself, I wouldn't say it was impossible—he's reversed Memory Charms through torture, before."

I remember what I'd been told about a woman named Bertha Jorkins who had worked for the Ministry a while back.

"Please, just give us something to work with," I say.

"I did hear about Lupin, earlier today," he says.

"Tonight's the full moon," I say. "What did you hear?"

"I wasn't going to tell you because I didn't have enough information. I've only heard that they're planning to let him run with Greyback tonight."

"We have to stop him, then," Harry says immediately.

"And this is exactly why I didn't want to tell you," he says. "I have no idea where they could be."

"What's something that we can use, then?" Blaise asks.

Draco sighs. "This isn't how it works. I'm not just some source of information that you can tap into at will. I don't know everything. That's why I wanted to be the one to initiate contact. That way, I won't have to risk a meeting for nothing."

"That's a lie, Draco. You have to know some places that we can attack," Blaise says.

"Sure. I can give you locations, but I can't tell you how many fighters they have, or where the important Death Eaters are. I won't send you into a fight blind, especially when you're outnumbered."

"You've given this some thought," Harry says, mildly surprised.

"Obviously. I don't want this war to go on any longer than you do."

"Well, we're meeting the rest of the Order in a week," I say. "Can you get us some usable information by then?"

"I can't promise anything. I haven't been working missions or patrols lately."

"Then what have you been doing?" I ask.

I note that he still hasn't removed his hand from the back of the couch, and though he looks completely relaxed and at-ease, that one hand is strained, as though he's supporting his weight. There must be something wrong—it isn't just me.

"I'd rather not say," he says evasively.

"Why not?" Harry asks.

"I can choose what to tell you—if Voldemort finds out about me, I'm the one who's going to be tortured to death… or worse."

"We know you're in danger. But we're all in danger, Draco," Blaise points out.

"As long as you stay here, technically, nothing can touch you," Draco says.

"But we won't always be here. We're all at risk. We're all on the same side," Blaise argues.

"Sure. Now that I'm on your side, you'd have to be thick not to know that I'm at greater risk than you are, especially since I'm around Voldemort on a daily basis."

"We know the risk you're taking for us, and we're grateful," Harry says. "But we need more than just you saying that you have information."

"Fine," Draco says. "If you really need something this instant, I can tell you that you might be able to retake Hogwarts."

Harry's green eyes brighten. "Explain."

"You'll have to wait for everyone to recover from the attack on the Order, but I already gave you the times and locations for shift changes, and I know that they haven't changed—although I can still verify that for you when I get back. Hogwarts just isn't a priority anymore, to him. Especially now that Dumbledore's gone."

"Who has that list of shift changes?" Blaise asks us.

"Shacklebolt had it, last time I checked," Harry says.

"So, what you're suggesting is that we arrive ahead of time of the shift changes to incapacitate and take the place of the Death Eaters on duty, and then subdue the replacements when they come?" I ask.

Draco nods. "Precisely. It's foolproof. You'll take over silently, effectively, and without bloodshed—on your side, that is."

"Our side," I correct him.

"The trouble is getting onto the grounds and to the shift change locations without getting caught," Blaise says.

"That's easy. We have paths for the patrols. I can give you a map," Draco says. "You can duplicate it as many times as you need to."

"I do really want to retake Hogwarts," Harry says.

"Our home away from home," Blaise says, nodding in agreement.

"It was my only real home," Harry says, a sad look on his face.

"Are you satisfied now?" Draco asks.

Blaise nods. "Thanks, mate."

"I should get going, then."

If I don't speak up, he's going to leave. And I suddenly realize that I don't want him to go, yet. "Can I have a word with you, alone?" I ask.

Draco looks hesitant, and I notice an exchanged glance between Harry and Blaise.

"Please," I add.

He finally nods. "All right, but I have to leave soon," he says.

He moves into his room, and I give Harry and Blaise a smile before following him in. I shut the door and lock it behind me.

"Muffliato," I mutter.

"If you were looking for privacy, we probably shouldn't be here," he comments, jerking his head toward Ginny's sleeping form.

"Ginny's asleep, and she will be for a while," I say.

Draco sits down on my—no, his—bed. "So, what do you want from me?"

I look at him for a moment and decide to come straight out with it. "I want you to tell me what's wrong with you."

He grins. "What makes you think something's wrong with me?"

"You put up a good act, but I can tell you're weaker than usual. Why?"

"Did I just hear you call me weak?"

"Don't try to distract me."

"No really, it's offensive," he says, still grinning. "I am not weak."

"Draco! I am not in the mood for joking around with you, all right?"

He sighs. "It's not a big deal. It doesn't matter," he says with a shrug.

"What do you mean, it doesn't matter?"

I take a few steps over to him and tug him to his feet. He grips my arms to steady himself, swaying slightly, and his furious eyes fix on me.

"See?" I say. "You can hardly stand on your own!"

He shakes his head. "I'm just tired," he says.

I reach up to place a hand on his cheek. His skin is so cold.

"I'm worried about you, Draco."

He just stares into my eyes for a long time, not speaking. What's going on in that frustratingly closed mind of his?

"Draco?" I prod tentatively.

He backs away and steps around me.

"I'm fine, Hermione."

When he says my name, I get that same warm feeling in my chest.

"It's nothing I can't handle," he continues. "Stop worrying about me."

"You said you cared about me, didn't you?" I say, turning around to see that he has his back to me.

"You were right there, weren't you?" he replies. "Shouldn't you know?"

"Draco, I—"

Before I can finish, he spins around and puts a finger over my lips. "I don't have time for this," he says.

I fix my eyes on his, watching them carefully. Then I lean my head forward just slightly to kiss his finger and watch as his eyes darken by a few shades. I take his hand in both of mine.

"I was only going to say thank you," I say.

"For what?"

I laugh. "For what, you ask. For saving me when I should have died in the Forbidden Forest. For giving me this charm that you clearly modified for my protection. For stopping Montague when he… when he…"

I've avoided thinking about it, and now that I've mentioned it, the memory of that moment, the raw terror that gripped me, the tension that filled my body… all of it suddenly rises to the surface, and my voice breaks.

Then his arms are wrapped tightly around me, and my face is pressed into his chest.

"Thank you so, so much," I whisper into his shirt.

I gently push at him, and he releases me. I lean up and kiss his lips, but as soon as I come into contact with those smooth, soft lips, his hands grip my shoulders and push me backwards.

"You have got to stop doing that," he says in a strained voice.

I shake my head.

He can't control my emotions. I don't care if he thinks I'm only acting out of gratitude. This is what I want right now, and it certainly doesn't feel like gratitude.

I shove his hands away from my shoulders, clutch the front of his crisp, white shirt, and press my lips to his. When he remains stubbornly still, I slip my tongue out to flick his lip, trying to entice him to open his mouth. Instead, to my dismay, he starts backing away.

I won't lose so easily. I hang onto him, and his attempts to push me away are frighteningly weak.

He takes another step back and trips, and we both topple over onto the ground.

"Fuck…" he groans.

"Are you all right?" I ask, getting off him and hopping to my feet.

He's still lying on the ground, jaw clenched tight—the very image of suppressed pain. I immediately regret choosing tonight to be so aggressive with him. He's clearly not well. Why was I so reckless? What was I thinking?

I extend my hand to him. "I'm so sorry," I say.

He sits up, ignoring my hand. "Naree!" he barks.

"Draco, what are you—"

Naree appears with a loud crack. I look over and am relieved to see that Ginny is still asleep.

"Naree told Master he should not be going anywhere," the house elf says. "Master didn't listen."

"Shut up and take me back," Draco says through gritted teeth.

"No, wait just one minute. What's wrong with you?" I demand.

"Naree, now!"

Naree grabs Draco's forearm, and they vanish.

I curse loudly and sit on the bed, trying to think of what could have made him so unwell. I don't understand why he won't tell me what happened—he's allowed to save my life, and I'm not allowed to do anything for him? Somehow that just doesn't seem fair.

A few minutes later, when I've calmed down, I go back out into the living room—the boys don't know that Draco's left yet.

"Where's Draco?" Blaise asks.

"He left," I say. "He said he had to go."

"We should tell Shacklebolt and McGonagall about the plan for Hogwarts," Harry says.

"Not yet," Blaise says, shaking his head. "We should wait until we have all the information—Draco's still getting us the patrol routes."

Harry nods. "Good idea." He turns to me. "Is Ginny awake?"

I shake my head. "No, I don't think so."

"I'll go sit with her anyway," he says.

"If you want, you can stay in my bed tonight," I offer. "I can sleep out here, on the couch."

"Don't sleep on the couch. You can take my bed, if you're letting me sleep in yours."

Blaise grins. "Yeah, you know you can trust me and Weasley."

I smile. "Him I trust. You, not so much."

"Oh, that hurts."

"Are you sure there's nothing between you two?" Harry says, looking back and forth between us.

"Obviously, we're madly in love," Blaise says.

Harry laughs. "Seriously, Blaise. I won't be mad. You're a great guy, and Hermione deserves that."

"Stop it, Harry. There's really nothing going on between us," I say.

"I'll take good care of her," Blaise says, pulling me into his side.

Harry opens the door to the bedroom. "I approve."

As he leaves, I throw a punch at Blaise.

"Ow! You're so violent," he complains.

"You need to stop joking around like that."

He pouts adorably. "But I thought it was true love, forever and ever."

I try my best to give him a stern look, but it's impossible for me to keep a straight face when he has that expression on his face, and I end up bursting into laughter.

"Yeah, all right. Rejoice in my pain. That's all I'm good for," he mutters, still pouting.

I step forward to give him a hug. "You really are the best, you know that?"

His arms come up around me. "Of course I know that," he says. "I'm surprised it took you so long to notice."

I thump a fist on his chest but can't hold back a smile. "You're so full of yourself."

"Yes, I am."

I back up and move to sit down on the couch. And not a moment too soon—just as I lower myself onto the couch, Ron emerges from the kitchen.

"Is Malfoy gone, finally?" he asks.

I roll my eyes. "Can't you be less rude to him?"

He looks at me as though I've just sprouted a second head. "He's Malfoy!"

"You've used that at least a dozen times. It doesn't mean anything, Ron," I say.

"Honestly, you should get over it. Even Harry trusts him," Blaise says.

Ron shakes his head and goes back into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him.

"Well, that's a hopeless case if there ever was one," Blaise comments.

I shake my head. "I think I'm going to go to bed."

Blaise grins. "Want me to join you?"

"Not when you're smiling like that," I reply with a teasing smile of my own.

I get to my feet and head for the boys' room. Blaise's soft footfalls follow me into the room.

"Harry and Weasley tried to change the color of the walls, but they wouldn't change," he says as he closes the door behind me.

I sit down on the middle bed—I know it's Harry's because Ron and Blaise always have to be as far apart as possible. So mature of them.

"It's been a long day," Blaise comments.

I nod in agreement and slip under the covers. "Good night, Blaise."

As I close my eyes, I feel the covers being lifted up. My eyes pop open, and I smack Blaise as he crawls into bed next to me.

"Blaise, get out!"

He just laughs, and I escape from the other side before he can nab me.

"Damn, Harry's good at conjuring mattresses," he remarks. "This one's so much softer than mine. I think I'll just stay here."

"Blaise, get up."

"No, I don't think so. You can have my bed, though," he says.

I sigh and walk around Harry's bed to Blaise's—it's obvious from the green covers which one is his. As I slide under the covers and shift to get comfortable, I realize that this mattress really is firmer than Harry's. Oh, Blaise. He would choose the softer mattress.

I yawn and pull the covers up to my chin, curling up on my side and closing my eyes to sleep.

What's wrong with Draco? I have to find out. I'll get it out of Naree tomorrow… I'm sure he'll be easier to fool than Draco.

I inhale deeply, and Blaise's familiar, comforting scent washes over me.

"Good night, Hermione," I hear Blaise say.

I smile. "Good night, Blaise."

Author's Note: I was going to put this in an author's note a chapter or two ago, but I forgot, so here it is.

In case any of you guys were wondering (someone did bring this up in a review and I wanted to clear it up), Mundungus gave away three places: Grimmauld Place, Shell Cottage, and the Tonks' home. He was a Secret Keeper for Grimmauld Place and Shell Cottage because Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley both died (when a Secret Keeper dies, all the people he/she told about the place become Secret Keepers as well). As for the Tonks' home, the Secret Keeper is allowed to communicate the location in writing, so it's implied that Mundungus somehow got a slip of paper with the address of the Tonks' home to give to the Death Eaters.

I wasn't sure if this was really necessary because it's sort of just a technicality, but I figured it wasn't a bad idea to explain anyway.