Author's Note: I got lots of stuff done this weekend. I finished two problem sets in one day (in other words, I did absolutely nothing else that day…) and got in quite a bit of studying for the midterm this Wednesday. To reward myself for all this productivity, I'm editing a chapter of my beloved Turncoat! Yay (:

By the way, anyone bought the latest Coldplay album, Mylo Xyloto? If not… GO BUY IT NOW. Haha, just kidding. But I definitely recommend it. It's amazing!

Chapter 83

I shut the kitchen door behind me and heave a sigh.

Why doesn't he trust me? It's become perfectly clear over the past few weeks that he won't hesitate to save my life or to do… almost anything, for me. But why won't he trust me? Why won't he share himself with me? Were his experiences really that bad?

Then I hear Ron's agitated voice and realize that Harry's removed the Silencing Charm.

"Will you stop it?" he shouts.

I look over and see that Naree's standing near Ron, gently poking his leg over and over. Trapped and held in place, Ron can't even move away.

"Naree, what are you doing?" I ask.

"Master said that Naree could punish Weasley, but that he could not cause permanent damage. Naree finds annoying Weasley to be very satisfying."

Harry laughs at this, and Ron looks over at us.

"Why are you here?" he demands.

"I thought the three of us could talk," Harry says.

"Should Naree go, then?" the house-elf asks.

"Yes, just for now," I tell him. "You can come back in later."

Ron has the audacity to glare at me.

"What, do you think that punishment is too light?" I ask.

Harry points his wand at Ron's nose and says, "Episkey."

Ron's nose straightens out, and he smiles. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me. I only fixed it so I could have the pleasure of breaking it myself," Harry says.

Then, before Ron can respond, Harry's fist flies at him. There's a loud crunch.

"Fuck! Bloody hell, Harry!"

I wave my wand once to clean up the blood.

"That's what I think of your actions, Ron," Harry says. "I—"

"What about her actions?" Ron says, cutting him off.

"What exactly do you think I've done, Ron?" I ask.

"There's nothing she could have done that would be worse than what you did, short of killing you," Harry says.

"She slept with Malfoy!"

"And why is that so terrible, hmm? At least it was consensual!" I reply. "I genuinely like—"

"You fucked a Death Eater, Hermione! Harry, you can't—you can't stand for this."

"At this point, I'd approve of Hermione choosing Malfoy over you. At least he hasn't tried to poison her. What the hell were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?"

"And don't say that you just wanted to show me how good it could be. That just makes me want to hit you," I add.

He looks between the two of us for a moment before focusing his attention on Harry.

"You would let her choose Malfoy over me, your best mate?" he says.

"Do you realize how bad your actions were? I feel ashamed to call you my best mate. If I hadn't seen all the effects first hand, I would never have believed it to be true."

"I just—"

"Doing that to anyone is just wrong. But the fact that you would use it on Hermione… our Hermione…"

"Thanks, Harry," I say.

"I don't believe it. You two are supporting a Death Eater over me."

"Shut up, Ron. Even as a Death Eater, he's done more to help us in recent weeks than you have. Honestly, who do you think you are?"

"No matter what he's done to redeem himself, he was still a Death Eater. I bet he's killed tons of Muggles and Muggle-borns."

"But he's trying to fix what he did in the past. You…" Harry's voice fades.

"You tried to control me," I jump in. "And you hurt other people in the process."

"How did I hurt other people?"

"You told me to be suspicious of Harry and Blaise, so I lashed out at them, even though they were just worried about me," I say.

"He told you think that?" Harry says, eyes wide. He turns to Ron. "Some best mate you are."

"I didn't mean—"

"You just wanted to save your own arse, didn't you? Hell, Blaise hinted at that, but I didn't believe him. I had more faith in you. But I guess I was wrong."

"Zabini never liked me. It's no surprise that he would think—"

"But he was right. I was wrong. Turns out he figured out your character even before I did."

Ron actually looks hurt by these words. "When will you let me down from here?"

Harry looks over at me. "It's your choice, Hermione."

"Let him hang, then. I don't think he feels remorse for his actions yet."

Ron glares at me. "Well, what about your actions?"

"Don't bring Draco into this."

"Oh, so now that he's fucked you, he's Draco."

"I started to like him before you poisoned me, and you know it."

"I don't understand. How could you like him, Hermione?"

"He's intelligent, quick, and caring—when he wants to be—and I've never had a dull conversation with him. Oh, and he's saved my life multiple times. And he's never tired to poison me. That's always a plus."

"Ron, don't you feel even a shred of remorse?" Harry asks.

Ron looks at the ground.

"You must know that what you did was wrong," Harry says.

"I'm sorry, okay? Sorry that I'm not bloody perfect—"

"You don't have to be perfect to figure out that poisoning one of your close friends is wrong. I'm sure anyone could figure that out," Harry cuts him off.

Ron's silent.

"I really value your friendship, and I don't want to lose someone so close to me," Harry says to him. "But if you and Hermione can't reconcile after this, I'm standing on her side, a hundred percent. You really screwed up this time, mate."

"Let's go, Harry," I say. "Maybe Blaise and Draco are done talking."

Harry nods, and we exit the kitchen in silence. Ron doesn't speak up to ask us to stay. But Blaise and Draco aren't in the living room yet, and I sit down on the couch.

Naree appears with a wide smile. "Hello, Miss Granger and Mr. Potter."

"You can go back in now, if you want," Harry offers.

"Naree would be delighted to!"

The house-elf disappears into the kitchen and shuts the door.

"Hermione, are you sure you know what you're doing with Malfoy?" Harry asks me. "And did you really—"

"Yes, I really slept with him. Are you going to call me a slag, now?"

Harry shakes his head. "No, of course not. If I'd been thinking that, I would have said so, in front of Ron."

"Thank you, then."

"Just be careful, all right? I know that Malfoy seems to have made some changes, and I'm learning to trust him, too, but I feel like there's too much about him that we don't know."

"I know that he has a really dark past—he's been a full-on Death Eater, for the past few years. I'm prepared to hear about all the awful things that he's done. I've accepted it. I… I just…"

"Just what?" Harry asks gently.

"I think he still doesn't trust me enough to tell me anything, and whenever I think about that, it hurts."

"But Malfoy was never the type to open up," Harry says. "For one, he's a Slytherin. But he's also naturally closed off, isn't he?"

"Yes, but—"

"Give him some time to open up to you. Don't you remember what Blaise said? He's known Draco for his whole life, but he still can only sort of guess at Draco's thoughts. You haven't been close to him for anywhere near as long as Blaise has, so it makes sense that he wouldn't be as comfortable with opening up to you, yet."

I smile.

"What?" Harry asks.

"Harry, you are an amazing friend," I say.

"You just noticed?" he replies, smiling.

"I thought you might go on for at least a little while about how he was our rival all through school, and how he was a Death Eater for such a long time, and—"

"I'd sound so much like Ron, wouldn't I?"

"Really, Harry. Thank you."

He smiles. "As long as you're happy. I saw the way you looked at him. You really do look happy with him."

"I am." Then I remember Harry's initial reaction and decide to ask about it. "Did you know about Draco's feelings?"

"Yeah."

I frown. "When did you figure it out? And how?"

"When you were captured by the Death Eaters, he looked extremely serious about it. And I guess I just paid more attention after that."

"Wow… that was a while ago," I say.

He nods. "When did you start to like him?"

"I… I'm not sure. It just sort of sneaked up on me. I didn't even realize it was happening."

"Did he forgive you, then?"

"Forgive me?"

"For Ron," Harry clarifies. "I assume that that threw a bit of a wedge between you two."

"He says that he understands, but I don't think he feels safe with me anymore," I admit.

"That's a sad thought."

"I know."

Then the bedroom door opens, and Blaise and Draco walk into the living room. I get to my feet.

"Hey," Harry says, turning to face them.

"Well, we've got a plan. But I don't know how much you're gonna like it, Hermione," Blaise says.

I frown.

Blaise turns to Draco and asks, "Do you want to explain, or should I?"

"Go ahead," Draco replies.

Blaise takes a deep breath and begins to speak.

"What if Voldemort doesn't send the Death Eaters away?" Harry interrupts Blaise.

"You two should tell him from the beginning that Draco will only show up if Voldemort withdraws his forces from Hogwarts and waits alone at the boundary," Blaise says.

I shake my head. "He's not that stupid—he won't believe that."

"You say it like you know him so well," Draco comments.

"Well, I—"

"Are you the one who's worked with him for years, or am I?"

"I don't like this idea," I say, shaking my head again.

How can they talk about it so nonchalantly? I definitely don't want Draco to surrender himself, but that doesn't mean I'll be okay with losing Blaise. He's one of my closest friends.

"It's not your choice," Draco reminds me again.

He's already told me that Blaise volunteered for this.

"Blaise, are you sure about this?" Harry asks. "Voldemort's going to know you're not Malfoy as soon as he gets inside your head."

"Then I'd better not let him, right?"

"Blaise, your Occlumency isn't that powerful," I point out. "Don't do this."

"Would you rather send the real Draco out there?" Blaise replies. "Voldemort is going to kill him as painfully as possible. If he finds out that it's only me, he'll either get pissed off and kill me quickly, or he'll keep me around with the hope that Draco will come to rescue me."

"He'll discover the truth too quickly, won't he?" I ask, trying from a different angle. I really, really don't want them to go through with this. "Draco and Nott won't have enough time to get to Neville's dad, or to get the Horcrux."

"There is a way to extend the time we have," Blaise says.

It takes me a second to get what he's implying.

"No," I say, remembering our conversation from the other day—or was it yesterday? Merlin, has it really only been one day? "No, you aren't seriously considering Communimency, are you? Draco's going to be so distracted. How could he possibly—"

"Not me, Hermione," Draco interrupts. "You."

I blink, surprised. "You… you can't be serious." I turn to Blaise. "You know that I think it's Dark magic. You can't possibly expect—"

"You could be extending my life, Hermione. Would you rather have me die faster?" Blaise says.

"That isn't a fair question."

"You have to intend to do something evil in order for it to be Dark magic, Hermione," Harry says. "If it's going to save Blaise's life, how can it be called Dark?"

I don't reply.

"Come on, Hermione. I'm relying on you to keep my mate safe," Draco says. "I don't want him to die for me."

"Aw, isn't that touching?" Blaise says.

Draco grins. "Don't flatter yourself. I just don't want to owe you any favors."

"I still don't like this idea," I say.

"It's not as though I'll be enjoying it," Blaise says. "I don't particularly like revealing my thoughts."

"Hermione, this is the best way," Harry says.

Why does he support this idea so much?

"Why don't you just face him and kill him, Harry?" I say, frustrated. "It's supposed to be you, anyway. Draco and Blaise don't have to take this risk."

"You say it like he's so easy to kill," Draco says. "Even Dumbledore with the Elder Wand on his side couldn't defeat Voldemort. Harry's our age. What makes you so sure he could pull this off?"

I realize that Draco and Harry are watching each other, but I can't understand the meaning of that silent exchange. Draco can't have planned anything with Harry, can he? Harry's been with me the whole time.

"So you said something about rescuing Blaise afterwards," Harry says, changing the topic. "How are you going to do that?"

"I was a Death Eater for a long time, and there are some people who owe me. I think I can pull some strings," Draco replies.

I frown. "I doubt that. The Death Eaters should technically be loyal to Voldemort first and foremost. I'm pretty sure they'd put him above anything they'd owe to you, Draco."

"You don't know that. I'm the one who's been working in their ranks for years. Trust me."

My chest throbs painfully at his words. What right do you have to ask for my trust, Draco? You don't trust me.

But I meet his eyes and say truthfully, "I do trust you. But—"

"Then that's enough. I'll be able to save Blaise," Draco interrupts.

"I don't like not knowing how this is going to work," Harry says. "If something goes wrong and we don't know it, we won't be able to help."

"I won't need your help," Draco replies.

He seems so sure of himself. But is that an act in order to get us to believe that he can pull this off?

"You two should probably head back to the castle soon," Blaise says. "If Voldemort refuses to call his Death Eaters away, there might still be a bit of a battle coming up. I'll stay here with Draco."

"So you're really not going to give us any details?" I ask Draco.

"Think about it this way. None of you are as strong in Occlumency as I am. If any one of you gets captured, and you know every detail of the plan, then we're screwed. It's just safer if you don't know," Draco says.

I have to admit that I hadn't really thought of that.

"Anyway," Draco continues, "Hermione, you should put the spell on Blaise now. Then get going."

"Do you two want a minute to say goodbye?" Harry asks.

Draco looks at me. "Bye."

"Really, that's it?" I reply.

I reach him in two quick steps, lean up, and kiss him. Surprised, he backs up a step, but I step forward with him. Then he seems to forget everything, giving himself over entirely to our kiss.

It's a terrible thing to think, but I know now that given the choice, I would have to sacrifice Blaise over Draco. I can't give up this feeling. I've never felt so complete. In the past, I couldn't ever get into romantic novels—they were too contrived and sappy for my taste—but I think I now fully understand what they mean when they say two people are "two halves of a whole."

Then Blaise clears his throat, bringing us back to reality, and I pull back a tiny bit.

"Be careful, Draco," I murmur, opening my eyes to look at him. "I don't like martyrs, so don't turn yourself into one."

"Since when did you stop liking martyrs?"

"Since I realized that you could become one."

He only grins in response.

"Please be careful. If not for me, then for yourself."

"I'm always careful."

"Liar."

I give him another quick peck on the lips before finally pulling myself away from him and turning to face Blaise.

"All right, let's try this," I say reluctantly.

He nods. "I'm ready."

I point my wand at him and take a moment to concentrate.

"Communimens."

Author's Note: A while back, I got some ideas for a Scorpius/Rose story and put a few snippets down in a document, and a few days ago I opened the story up and started stringing pieces together. I've put a chapter up; it's called Meant to Be, if you haven't seen it already. No war in this one, so I don't know if I'll be able to pull it off, but I'm going to give it a shot. I'd appreciate it if you guys popped over to take a look, if you have time. It probably won't be updated as often as Turncoat, though.