Five

The Promise of Safety

Safety is something that happens between your ears, not something you hold in your hands – Jeff Cooper

Unexpected things could be wonderful or bad. They could be dreadful, or they could be a nice surprise. Hermione never thought that she would see Draco Malfoy kneeling in front of her on the sofa, shoving various potions down her throat and covering her wounds. He had cleaned and dressed all visible wounds after sadly admitting to Hermione that no spell or potion could rid her body of the dreaded inflicted scar that Bellatrix had cursed her with. She would forever keep the mudblood scar, but the line on her collarbone and the strikes on her wrist would heal in time with help from potions and spells. She was worried about him too, he had devoured a mysterious potion just before he had started to treat her and now he was holding up the dark liquid for her to take. "What is it?" She inquired.

"It's a potion to reduce and cure the aftermath of the Cruciatus curse, although it cannot recover memories it can still shakes and soothe the ache," he replied and offered it to her again. She took it and raised it to her lips. Chugging it down as fast as she could, oh it was terrible, it was a thick substance that dawdled its way down her throat and it was dire, like polluted stale water and unimaginable, disgusting things. Her curiosity got the better of her, who could've made this concoction?

"Who invented it?" she asked around twisted lips. Draco had already given her a glass of water to try to dull the ghastly taste, it soothed the sudden dry throat but only slightly lessened the bitterness – at least it was now bearable.

"The Half-blood prince," Hermione shouldn't have been surprised after all he had invented and improved various spells and he was truly gifted in potions.

"You mean Snape," Hermione sighed, she remembered sixth year rather bitterly, it was the year of heart break and Dumbledore's death. Hermione knew that the wizened old man would be an abhorred subject in Draco's presence due to Harry's words after his death. The only good thing about sixth year was that Harry got good at potions due to that book, Hermione had been intrigued and disgusted by that book, I mean who would deface a book like that?

"My Godfather also owns this house, but he found that this potion is most useful when he angered the Dark Lord too much. Over the years he has given it to my father and me for the aftershocks," Hermione gasped a little, Draco was no stranger to pain. But Draco carried on, finally tugging on the bandage that concealed the dreaded scar. He had noticed that it was in Bellatrix's handwriting as well so the pain of the memory would be harder to lessen. Hermione caught on to something Draco had said before.

"I know you said that it couldn't heal memory loss but I can remember every painstaking memory of that time, why did you mention it?"

"You would have had to sleep, at some time. Even for a little while, I know that being held in dark places for a long time with nothing to do besides dwell on the trauma can make the body force itself into sleep," Draco wasn't looking at Hermione, he couldn't. Hermione was thinking back, she had slept a lot of the time in imprisonment, after all sometimes she wasn't aware that she had closed her eyes, others she couldn't remember anything but relentless blackness. Merlin, she was relieved to be away from that aphotic room.

"I did for most of it," Draco had to swallow past the lump in his throat. In some ways he was glad that she had, she didn't need to know the many Death Eaters that had come in to gaze at her body and make vulgar comments; she didn't need to know that many had been sent in to torture her further.

"You were in there for 2 days Granger; I know it may not seem like it but you're free from that now and all you've got to know is that maybe it was for the best that you can't remember certain things," Draco's voice cracked a bit and he rose to his feet, making sure that his eyes never met Hermione's. "You've had quite the night, so why don't you go upstairs and try to get some sleep?" Hermione didn't like the way that she had been dismissed and she didn't like the look of subtle horror on Draco's face but then she realised how tired she actually was. Once she was led up the stairs, she was situated in a simple room. Its colour scheme was dark like the rest of the house but the bed was exceptionally comfortable. She supposed that anything would be after sleeping on that mattress. Draco had left her but he had left the door open. How had he known? Had he been in similar situations where his mother had left the door open in case her son had awoken from whatever night terror based on an ordeal? Hermione tossed and turned for a while trying to gain comfort, but the sheets seemed to scratch at her skin and every position seemed to be uncomfortable, despite the heaven that was her mattress. She looked at the ceiling for a while. She silently cried for a time. When she finally closed her eyes for good she was haunted by images of what could've happened while she was blacked out, of what could've happened if Draco hadn't saved her or if they had been caught mid chase. She was plagued by enhanced memories of torture and fear.

She awoke with a scream and had clung to her blankets, then she tore them away from her skin, they were sweat sodden and as she turned she noticed her pillow was wet with her tears. As she lay there trying to regain her steady breathing, she felt the presence of someone else just outside of her door, it was comforting. He had wanted to check up on her, or he wanted to stop her screams so he could get some sleep but either way he was there, making sure that her screams had quietened and she was calm once again. She fell back into the nothingness with that thought. And for once she didn't dream of anything, she just saw darkness and that was the best she could have.

Back downstairs, Draco sat slumped in the arm chair, he ran a hand through his hair and he tried, oh he tried, to distract his mind but it would never stray from that one subject. His simple act of kindness had gotten the worst punishment – death. He would be trialled for treason on both accounts; for acting for and against the dark arts. Draco didn't know how the Gryffindor's managed to be kind and brave at the same time. He wouldn't admit it but he was damn right scared. He was scared of the outcomes of this deed. If by any chance Draco came out of this alive, he would count himself lucky. He sighed once more and rubbed a hand across his eyes, maybe if he rubbed them hard enough it would erase that day. If Granger had never been captured and tortured this would all be fantastic, he thought and hauled himself up. Shuffling to his Godfather's room, he collapsed into bed and forced sleep to come.

Nevertheless, it didn't answer to his prays.

It was the light that woke Hermione up, the sun shining through the windows, which had previously been covered with long curtains, and bleaching the insides of her eye lids red. A House Elf must have been in Hermione decided, as she rushed to untangle herself from the mass of blankets. She had slept fitfully, the darkness of her dreams twisting and whirring into menacing voices and cackles after a while. Yawning, she dressed herself in the clothes provided (Merlin knows who they had previously belonged to) and walked down the stairs to find Draco hunched over the table. His face was hid behind a Daily Prophet and a tower of pancakes were set in front of him as well as opposite him.

"Good morning," Hermione murmured to the boy opposite her who just grunted back at her through the pages of the paper. Hermione couldn't help but quench her problems with House Elves once she took a bite out of her pancakes, it may have been the best breakfast she had ever had (though that was an exaggeration and she supposed that being held captive and on the run before that would do that to a person).

Draco sighed, "I know all about your SPEW phase Hermione," he insisted, "But House Elves do want to serve. They take pride in the wellbeing of their assigned families and although some families don't treat them as they should, many are well cared for."

"Like yours treated Dobby," She said flippantly and then covered her mouth in shock, "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that," She muttered and then was lost in the fond memories of Hagrid, who was just nearly always saying things that he shouldn't have.

Draco had been brought up to believe that House Elves were there for the sole purpose of looking after their families and failing to do so was punishable by their masters. But Draco had always been kind, well kinder, to Dobby when he was on his own and had hid a cringe most times when his father would beat the poor thing for such a miniscule insubordination. Nevertheless, there were the times where Draco had went along with his father, those were the times that Draco was not too proud of himself, but they were times that he couldn't erase.

After breakfast, Hermione didn't know what to do with herself. Her pancakes were eaten, so were Draco's but Draco was still immersed in the Daily Prophet and Hermione had no choice but to twiddle her thumbs.

"I can feel your burning stare Granger, I honestly thought that saving your life would prevent physical harm because ouch those burns hurt," he said as he put the paper down. Hermione noticed that he folded it in such a way that she couldn't read the front page. Draco even went as far to rest his pointy elbows on it so that it was impossible to catch even a word.

"What do we do now?" Hermione said, deciding to ignore the blatant hiding of the paper.

"We wait for my Godfather no matter how long he takes," Draco drawled mimicking Snape's impossibly long pregnant pauses and orders. He then got up, tucking the paper under his arm, and filled a glass up with water, before gracefully sitting back down in his seat. Hermione stared at the offending glass for some time, hoping it would shatter just from her gaze and soak the boy but to no avail. "If you want a drink you can go and get it yourself," Draco murmured although Hermione still caught it and she scowled.

"I wasn't so sure that you could do things for yourself Ferret," she replied and then hurried on "Why should we wait for him he is much on You Know Who's side as Bellatrix is?"

"You'd be surprised about how much you don't know about Snape." Draco just sipped at his water with a sculpted scowl on his lips.

"Well enlighten me then."

"Snape was heavily in love with Potter's mother, it was when she was killed that Snape decided to seek out Dumbledore and request that he would become a double spy in order to avenge her. He was already high in the ranks of the Death Eaters and passed information to both parties all the while risking exposure." Draco drank the last gulp of his drink and got up to put it in the sink. "He could've died at any moment because of his role in the war."

Hermione didn't know what to say; her opinions on the negative Nancy of a teacher were all wrong. Hermione didn't like being wrong. The news were like a fish out of water for her.

She was saved from the palpable awkwardness by the arrival of the man himself – Severus Snape stepped out of the flaring fireplace with all the grace and elegance that a man could muster.

"I have to be quick about this… otherwise they'll know that I'm gone." Although, everything was ironic because he took calm, collected steps towards the table and then slapped Draco upside the head.

"Ow!" Draco said swiftly lifting a hand to rub his head; Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

"Ah, Miss Granger how splendid to see you alive and well." Snape turned his attention to her and something about him reminded her of You Know Who himself, she inwardly cringed. Despite this, she nodded at him formally and got a nod back in return. "Now let's get down to business shall we?"

Snape then moved to the table where the paper still lay crumpled and picked it up. "Draco, did you tell her about…?"

"Tell me about what?" Hermione rushed in, moving closer to the paper. It held the secrets to whatever Draco wasn't telling her, the pompous prick. Snape looked down at her with a loathing expression in his eyes. Suddenly, Hermione felt like she was back in the dark potions room with him and Draco, and she was being ridiculed all over again for knowing an answer that Harry didn't. She refused to be ridiculed after all she had been through. She refused to allow him to be a reflection of her torturers. Instead of cowering or shutting up like she normally would've done, she put her hands on her hips and put all the menace into her eyes as she could. They stared at each other, a mere eight steps from each other's personal space and they battled quietly with one another. Hermione refused to be bullied by Snape anymore. She was a grown woman damn it! She could do this.

Draco stared at the pair. His eyes roved from one person to the other like he was watching a wizards duel, although in this instance there were no spells and no words uttered at all. Hermione didn't even have a wand. Despite it being entertaining to watch a small thing like Granger try to go up against his Godfather who was a tall and imposing figure, they didn't have time for this.

"Hey, we don't have time for this!" Draco tried to be composed and there was just a slight raise of volume in his voice. "No, I didn't tell her about the thing. I wanted to wait until she was properly settled until I dropped the big, bad bombshell."

Snape snapped out of the battle with Granger and turned to him again. "You're such a gentleman Draco." Again, Hermione was floored by the mannerisms expressed by Snape; she had never seen them before in school or otherwise and was shocked to see how much he and the Malfoy's resembled the other. "You're such a gentleman sometimes that I am shocked that you are my god child," he went on.

"Um, I'm still waiting to hear this big, bad bombshell?" Hermione interrupted and went to sit down on the chair she had previously vacated.

Draco took his seat opposite her and Snape spread the paper out on the table between them all.

It looked like a normal Daily Prophet except in the middle of the front page there was a headline more shocking than the rest.

The Brightest Witch of Our Age Dim-witted by the Dark.

Earlier today, the acclaimed Brightest Witch of Our Age Hermione Granger was incarcerated by the Dark Lord himself. Currently, she is awaiting trial for her numerous acts of treason to the wizarding world including; tainted blood, murder and using illegal spells. Let her capture be a moral to all those who dare to oppose the Dark Lord.

The article was short and to the point; however, underneath was a moving photograph of her. It was horrible. They must have snuck in while she had been asleep, capturing the exact moment when she was imprisoned in the throes of a nightmare. It was also very clear that she had been tortured and that was not an image that she wanted her friends and family to see.

"How…" Hermione gasped for words to emerge but her horror seemed to freeze them in her throat.

"This was yesterday's article and since they now probably know that you have escaped they will print an article about your death. They will include every horrifying detail to horrify your friends Miss Granger, they will evoke the most hurt possible." Snape did not look at her, instead finding it right to look at the paper or his god child. Hermione was so shocked that she could not look at anything but the groves in the table. "You all know that the dark side has taken hold of most of the propaganda functions in our society, they have infiltrated Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic and the Daily Prophet, and it is not long before they incarcerate the rest of the Wizarding World."

"We need to stop this." Hermione whispered, but it was lost in the wood of the table. After all, she had found it more peaceful to rest her head upon the wood, hoping that the coolness would soothe the oncoming monster of tension bundled in the middle of her forehead.

"Will they mention me?" Draco said, he had now turned the paper closer to him and was focussed on this one page almost like he had never seen it before. How long had he been awake before Hermione?

"Use your head Draco. Telling the world you betrayed them, or even saying that you died in the onslaught of spells of Granger's execution, would taint their image. It would allude to the fact that there are betrayers in their midst and they want to evoke an image of complete solidity to society so that they can appear strong and unbeatable." Snape then took the paper back and folded it back up neatly, he then turned it over so that the dreaded page wouldn't be seen. "I imagine that your father pulled in certain favours to ensure that it would not be revealed, even if they were going to."

Draco knew that his father would've been tortured or beaten for suggesting it. It showed that he cared at least.

Silence stretched across the table.

"What do we do now?" Hermione asked when she pulled her head up from the table surface.

"Now, you have to tell us everything." Snape said bluntly and sat down himself.

Reaching around her neck Hermione pulled a necklace out of her top and unleashed its clasp. Pricking her finger with her sharpest nail she muttered a Latin phrase and splashed her blood on the tiny bag that rested on a silver chain.

She looked at the dubious duo sitting around the table. "As you probably know I, Harry and Ron was on the run from You Know Who, hunting for a way to stop him. I packed a bag with every valuable resource we had, and I left that for Harry when I was captured and they had to leave me behind." Hermione's lips twisted downwards "But because I'm me, I packed a smaller bag only for emergencies, just in case we got separated."

"You do know that using blood to seal it is dark magic, right Miss Granger." Snape looked at her with folded arms, his eyes constantly switching between the clock, Draco and her.

"Yes – war means desperate measures though." She said and enlarged the bag. It was like an ordinary muggle handbag, simply black with a buckle sealing it. From it she pulled out a dog eared, well-thumbed journal. "Ever since You Know Who came back into power in our fourth year I have been collecting information and recording it in this book – so, this is everything we know." She said, as she opened it to a middle page and turned it so that the other two could see. The pages were filled with bold titles, scrawled handwriting and hastily drawn images. It was still an extensive resource of information though.

"You Know Who, formally known as Tom Marvollo Riddle, created six Horcruxes to ensure his immortality and to ensure that Death (his greatest fear) never came for him." She started, "Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction —" She recounted from a book she knew so well.

"A Horcrux is a powerful object in which a Dark wizard or witch has hidden a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining immortality. Creating one Horcrux gives one the ability to anchor one's own soul to Earth if the body is destroyed; the more Horcruxes one creates, the closer one is to true immortality. Creating multiple Horcruxes is suggested to be costly to the creator, by both diminishing their humanity and even physically disfiguring them (which is why Riddle looks the way he does). You create a Horcrux through the death of an innocent with the exact intent on creating a Horcrux.

Riddle created six as I said before; his diary, his families ring, Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, something of Rowena Ravenclaw and in my opinion the last one could be his snake Nagini. Harry destroyed the diary in his second year accidently with a Basilisks fang, Dumbledore destroyed the ring in sixth year and before we were captured Ron used the sword of Gryffindor to destroy the locket. We still need to destroy the last three and once that is complete You Know Who is rendered human who can be killed normally." Hermione looked at the two males before her who both looked thoughtful and grim, "Normally, those who have Horcruxes can feel the loss of one when destroyed but since You Know Who has stripped his soul to the degree he has, the most anyone has ever stretched the limits to, he hopefully does not know of their loss which is an advantage on our part."

"Well, you had an eventful time on the run." Draco muttered but was quickly shushed by Snape who arose with a question.

"Can the effects of a Horcrux be reversed?" He asked.

"Yes they can, through remorse but we all know that since You Know Who has sacrificed his soul to those limits he is incapable of emotions such as love and remorse."

"So all we need to do is find and destroy the other three Horcruxes, should be easy." Draco said while cracking his knuckles.

Hermione then told them that she thought that Harry and Ron would be going after Hufflepuff's cup, which was located in Bellatrix's vault, and that they also had the sword of Gryffindor which was the only resource to destroy them in their disposal.

"We don't know what the object of Ravenclaw's is and we don't have a weapon in order to destroy it." Hermione said honestly.

"Then you'll need to find the Horcrux and a method to destroy it." Snape said with his eyes on the clock.

Snape was getting ready to go after speaking with Draco about possible destinations of safety because in his words, he did not want them tarnishing his home for longer than necessary. Just as he was reaching the fireplace he was overcome with an idea.

"Draco, this might be a hard concept for you to comprehend, but I need you to swear an Unbreakable Vow to Miss Granger."

"What? Why?!"

"Miss Granger is less likely to trust you on this mission and to be frank I don't trust you myself to do everything in your power to make sure this mission is completed."

After a short argument it was decided that Draco would swear an Unbreakable Vow to not tell a soul about the Horcruxes, to protect Hermione, and to do everything he could to ensure the completion of the mission. The Vow would only be dissolved when the mission was done.

"I will consent to be the Bonder," Snape quietly uttered, lost in a reverie of the past. The situation was identical to the time when Narcissa begged him to help her son and he had used the key empty word try, he had tried and look at where that got him.

"You do know the strength of an Unbreakable Vow don't you, Granger?" Draco asked Hermione who indignantly spun around to face the white haired boy.

"Of course, who do you take me for Ferret?" She spat at him and crossed her arms for a moment.

"Behave children," Snape said distractedly as he manoeuvred them into the proper positions.

Draco lowered himself so that he was kneeling opposite Hermione and then Snape forced them to grasp right hands. Sometimes, Snape thought that the boy needed to grow up and then had to remind himself that the war had grew him up somewhat. Snape drew his wand and stood so close to the pair that he stood over them with the tip of his wand touching their linked hands. Hermione knew her role in the agreement and spoke with a cold yet collected voice, "Will you, Draco, watch over my life as I attempt to fulfil the task of finding and destroying Horcruxes?"

"I will," said Draco.

A narrow tongue of brilliant flame issued from Snape's wand and wound its way around their hands like a piece of red hot barbed wire.

"And will you never tell a soul about the Horcruxes until the task is completed?"

"I will," Draco said again.

A second tongue of flame shot from the wand and interlinked with the first, making a fine, glowing chain.

"And will you, to the best of your ability, do anything to complete the task even if …" Hermione's voice grew quieter and quieter with each uttered word (Draco's hand moved slightly within her grasp but he did not withdraw his hand), "You have to kill for the desired deed to be done?"

Draco knew that she did not just mean kill in general, it meant going against all his wishes and to kill absolutely anyone who stood in the way of the task – even if it meant killing the Dark Lord himself or his parents.

"I will," said Draco.

Snape's face morphed from indifference to disbelief and it glowed red in the blaze of the final third strand of flame, which shot from the wand erratically, twisted with the other two and bound itself thickly around their interwoven hands, like a rope, like a fiery snake.

It was done.

For a minute the two children, for that was what they truly were, sat kneeled looking at their clasped hands. They stayed there even when the tongues of flame seem to dissolve into their very skins. They stayed there even when Snape holstered his wand, wrote a note on the corner of the folded paper and left through the fireplace.

As emerald flames overtook his vision, and stole the image of the two children, he closed his eyes and pictured the broken hearted Narcissa of the previous year.

Before he would arrive back at his office in Hogwarts, he would silently whisper the words that he doubt he would ever say to her for as long as he lived.

I am… sorry.

Thank you for all of the readers, followers, favouriters and Magneto Acolyte for your review each and every email I get as an alert is awesome and makes me want to write. You're all the best.

See you in the next instalment!