Author's Note: I'm a little anxious about how you guys are going to take this chapter. But I let my muse take the reins, so I'm following her for the ride. And as I've said to a few reviewers, this story is as much about the war as it is about the relationship between Draco and Hermione.

I was listening to some music on iTunes that I hadn't heard in a long time, and I'm just curious to see if any of you happen to love this song as much as I do, so let me know if you recognize the following song lyrics! I really like the song they came from. Please don't just google them, because that's no fun :P

"No matter how many deaths that I die I will never forget. No matter how many lies that I live I will never regret."

God, his voice sounds so beautiful for those two lines… (:

Mkay, here's the chapter!

Chapter 57

I wake and jolt upright.

The room is dark. Where…?

I feel a lot better. I feel alive.

Then I realize that my left hand is going numb again. I glance over to see Granger slumped over the edge of my bed, holding my hand.

A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow hard as warmth swells in my chest.

She cares.

I'd known from the way she was fretting over me that she does care. I don't know if that'll turn into anything more, but this… this is enough for now.

Fuck, I'm turning into a touchy-feely sap. And it's all her fault. This is awful.

I touch her soft curls with my free hand and consider shaking her awake so that I can see those warm, brown eyes. But she must be exhausted, if she could fall asleep in such an uncomfortable position. I can't bring myself to disturb her.

And besides, she'll probably try to stop me from leaving.

I very carefully release my hand from her grasp and slip out of bed, moving as slowly as possible so that I won't jolt her awake. I make it to the door and exit successfully. As I shut the door behind me, the lights in the living room turn on.

"Blaise," I say, turning around to face him.

"How'd you know it was me and not one of the other two?"

"They wouldn't wait for me like this. What time is it?"

"Just past midnight."

"Fuck."

"Was there somewhere you needed to be?"

I nod distractedly. I should go now—who knows what Voldemort will do to me for missing our session tonight? Goddamn it, Granger.

"Theo visited," Blaise says, catching my attention. "I got caught, but I played it like we used to."

"And he bought it?"

He nods. "Didn't suspect a thing."

"Brilliant. What'd you tell him?"

"Nothing. He wanted to congratulate you about Astoria."

I make a face.

"That's what I thought," Blaise says, grinning. "So I set him straight about that."

"Anything else I should know?"

"Hmm, well. Theo said that Greg and Vince are on Hogwarts duty for a while. And he asked you to meet for drinks tonight, but I rejected for you."

I nod.

"Oh, and Hermione didn't seem too happy when she heard about Astoria. I'd clear that up with her, if I were you," he says.

"I don't have time for that," I say. "Naree!"

The house-elf appears in an instant.

"Do you have the information?"

Naree nods and passes me a roll of parchment. I unroll it to look at the writing—names, times, and then a large map at the bottom with numerous routes detailed on it. I roll it back up and pass it to Blaise.

"That's all you should need, to take Hogwarts," I tell him.

"If I may speak, Master…" Naree pipes up.

"Go ahead."

"Miss Bellatrix is being punished at the Manor," he murmurs.

"For what?" I ask, frowning.

"For losing you, Master."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for Voldemort to be punishing your parents?" Blaise asks.

Hmm. Does Aunt Bella know about my potential for moving into a position of power? What if she was sent to the Manor not to keep an eye on my father, but to watch over me? It would have seemed like a far-fetched idea not so long ago, but with all the trouble Voldemort has gone through to train me, it doesn't seem so much of a stretch now.

"Shouldn't you go back?" Blaise prods. "She's a nasty bitch, but she's still your aunt. And I know what family means to you."

I nod. "I know it's the truth, but don't call her that in my presence."

"Hermione said that you overexerted yourself. How—"

"You haven't changed a bit. Still as nosy as always."

He chuckles. "No, I haven't changed. I also want to know what you're going to do about Astoria. But I know you're busy, so I suppose that'll just have to wait until next time."

"Astoria? I'm just going to ignore her until she goes away. And I'm not telling you how I got hurt. Now I'm going to make sure that that madman doesn't kill my aunt. Bye."

"Bye, mate."

I Apparate to my room at the Manor and remind Naree that he's not to say a word to anyone. He promises his obedience and disappears.

Then I head downstairs and follow the screams to the drawing room.

It's a rare sight—Aunt Bella's on the floor, screaming. As I step into the room, the shrieking stops, and Mother drops to her knees.

"Bella—oh, Bella, are you—"

"Stop blubbering, witch!" Father barks.

"Draco…" Voldemort says. "How nice of you to join us."

The room falls silent except for Aunt Bella's panting and Mother's subdued sobs.

I take a knee. "My Lord."

"You seem to have recovered quite well."

"No thanks to you," I say curtly.

He smiles sinisterly and gestures for me to get to my feet. "You know what kind of pain your insubordination will cause you, do you not?" he sneers. "I assure you, it can—and will—get much worse, if you do not show me proper deference."

"You're a man of your word," I say. "I almost died last night."

Mother's eyes are immediately fixed on me, filled with worry. Father looks surprised as well, but not half as concerned. Figures.

"Clearly, someone healed you. Otherwise, I'm sure you'd be on your way to the next life by now."

I just look at him blandly. I don't know what's giving me the guts to be rude to him. Maybe it's the anger from watching him torture Aunt Bella. No one does that to my aunt.

"Come," Voldemort hisses. "We must be going now."

"To where?"

"You would do well not to question me, boy. Pack some supplies. We leave in five minutes."

With that, he disappears.

"What are you waiting for, Draco? Go pack!" Father says.

Instead, I move to Aunt Bella's side, kneeling beside my mother.

"Sorry, Aunt Bella."

"Oh, go on, now," she says. "Your aunt's taken worse than this before."

She's not pissed? I'm taken aback.

"Just come back alive so I can return the favor," she says through gritted teeth.

All right, maybe she's a little pissed.

"I will," I say with a grim smile.

"Be careful, Draco dear," Mother says, patting my arm.

I nod curtly before getting to my feet and exiting the room. I hurry upstairs to my bedroom and summon Naree.

"Pack my bag," I say. "All the usual. Finish in five."

I sit down on my bed as Naree summons items from around the room to place in my bag. The charm burns my chest, and I pull it out.

Arse.

I hold back a smile—Voldemort has a habit of materializing out of thin air, and the last thing I need is for him to discover the connection between my charm and Granger's. I contemplate replying but ultimately decide against it, tucking the charm back under my shirt. Just as I finish, the Dark Lord appears a few feet away from me.

"Finished?" he says.

That was most definitely not five minutes.

"Naree," I say.

The house-elf holds my pack up for me. I shrink it and place it in the pouch that holds my emergency equipment.

"Naree, you're dismissed," I say.

He disappears promptly, his well wishes conveyed only by a widening of his large eyes.

"Now there's no one else to hear. Can I know where we're going?" I ask warily.

"All in good time," Voldemort replies.

He touches my shoulder, and I expect the tight compression of Apparition. Instead, there's a strange, floating sensation. I've never felt anything like it. I feel like a leaf blowing in the wind.

Where are we going? I try to control the worry that's threatening to overcome me—I can't fret too much, or he might punish me for being weak.

We stop at intermediate destinations several times, but I never recognize the places—a deserted street corner, a lonely country lane, a dark abandoned house, a busy street. We must be very far from home, if we've had to stop so many times despite traveling by Apparition.

Finally, we stop, and I observe our surroundings warily.

We stand at the end of an extremely long, outdoor walkway. Snow-covered trees line either side of the paved path. Snow. We must be somewhere far north. I see a large palace at the end of the path, but I can't seem to place the architectural style.

Then Voldemort places a Disillusionment Charm on me.

"You are not here," he says.

"I understand," I reply.

These will most likely be my last words of the night. I've shadowed him before on a two-day visit to France, but I was hidden for the entirety of the trip, and I didn't speak a word for the whole time. But that was a few months ago, and he didn't explain why he'd brought me along.

I wonder if he'll explain why I'm here this time.

Then he's moving up the walk, and I take a few quick steps to catch up.

Two years ago, I shadowed Aunt Bella everywhere, and I developed the skill of moving "silently" by matching my footfalls exactly with hers. I've trained my feet to match the motion of the person I'm following.

But I still can't do it with Voldemort. His footfalls make no sound, as though he really does glide. I'm moving as quietly as possible, but I'm still painfully aware of the sound of my feet on the ground. I try to match my footsteps with his anyway, so that should anyone hear me, they would assume it was Voldemort.

Men appear between the trees that line the walk, one in each gap. I estimate about twenty of them, all pointing their wands at us. Voldemort doesn't slow his pace, and I continue to follow close behind.

Two men step directly in our path, but still Voldemort maintains the quick pace.

"If you know what's best for you, you will stand down," he says.

The men point their wands at us and shout for us to halt. It takes me a moment to place which language it's in—that's the trouble with knowing too many languages: you can understand instantaneously, but it sometimes takes a while to figure out which language you just heard.

Russian.

Holy fuck, we're in Russia.

Author's Note: Bleh, I had a major food coma right in the middle of editing this chapter (ate dinner before sitting down to edit). So if there are any glaring errors that I missed, I blame it on my not being fully conscious… I seriously knocked out for a good twenty minutes…

But anyway, I'll update again very soon.