Harry's POV:

As much as I wanted to be there when Cygnus returned to his beloved field, I (most unfortunately) had an obligation to help people in danger, not because I wanted glory or whatever, but because I felt as if it was my duty as a decent person. Really, it didn't matter who was in trouble (with the exceptions of Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix, and Voldemort), as I would help them no matter what. Considering that I had already saved his life once, I figured that this should make up for that time I almost accidentally killed him by using a spell, of which I had no knowledge about other than the incantation. I still felt sort of bad for that.

Hermione tugged my arm around toward the side of the house. They had a thick and tall gate, looking to be made of marble but with the texture of wrought iron.

"Under here," she pointed to a bush with tiny white flowers, little red berries, and dark green leaves with pale undersides.

Hawthorne, I thought absently.

I pulled my wand from my pocket, preparing myself for anything that might come my way as I squeezed into the small, hidden passageway. I almost got stuck a few times, mostly because my shoulders were…too broad (it's not my fault. Blame genetics). Once I did manage to make it through, I fell onto the floor of the tunnel, unaware that it was so deep. Hermione slipped in right after me, and she led the way so that we popped back up in the corner of the garden that windows from the house could not see. We remained as close to the ground as we could, and yet it seemed that their spacious house was empty.

The sky grew darker as Hermione finally stood and opened the back door into the house, as if we had been guests this whole time and not intruders planning to…well, I wasn't too sure exactly what we were doing just yet. Yes, we were going to save Draco, but afterwards, I wasn't so sure. What would cause someone to need saving from their own house, anyway?

Together, we walked down the empty halls, up a few staircases, turning left here and right here. By the time we had reached the right hallway, I wasn't sure I could ever escape this place; it was like a maze designed to make you go in circles.

Maybe he needs saving because he got lost… Hermione stopped right at the start of the hallway and was staring intently at the floor. I followed her eyes and saw that on the black marble floor, there was an undeniable trail of blood, like someone had dragged a dead body through here after stabbing it several times. Hermione stepped over the trail and followed it on with me right behind her. We gained speed to our destination, as the atmosphere grew only more anxious as we followed the blood to the correct room. We slowed as we approached a door with a hole near the bottom. I found it curious, but did not ask questions.

"Here," Hermione said at last. Her hand grabbed the doorknob and drew back just as quickly, a gasp escaping from her.

"It shocked me."

"Alohomora," I cast at the knob, but there was no click to signify that it had been unlocked.

"Draco," Hermione called, lowering her eyes to see through the hole.

"Draco! My god, what has he done to you?" Her voice began to quiver. "We're going to get you out. I promise. We'll just…" She stood.

"Bombarda!" The door exploded, sending flying pieces of wood everywhere. She sent a quick clean up spell after it, and the pieces of wood swept themselves up off to the side.

"Oh, Draco." Hermione kneeled down next to a mound of bloody and tattered clothing which I figured was Draco.

In this state, he was so unrecognizable, all vulnerable and bleeding, lying on the floor unable to do anything. It reminded me of our time in that bathroom once again, and guilt washed over me. Hermione pulled a potion from her purse, uncapped it, and turned to me.

"You'll need to turn him over. Be gentle."

I gave a single nod.

"Wingardium Leviosa," and Draco's body rose and turned over so that his bruised and bleeding face was up. His grey eyes looked to me, filled with a desperate look completely new to my list of known facial expressions, though I'm sure there was a point when I myself wore it. He could feel himself coming closer to death.

Hermione lifted the potion carefully into his mouth and the bottle emptied itself.

"Let's try some healing spells as well. I…We want to make sure you…" Hermione bit her lip and pulled her wand out, chanting under her breath.

I only knew a few simple healing spells that most likely would not help much, but I kneeled beside Draco as well, casting Episky at every wound and watching as every cut grew slimmer as the skin drew back together and burns grew less and less red. Hermione and I worked for a good half hour, and when we finished, Draco sat up, half his face still purple.

"We're going to get you out of here, Draco," Hermione whispered.

He put a hand to his face, hiding his eyes. "Hermione, you aren't supposed to be here. My father could be coming any minute. Get out while you can." Tears poured down both their faces now.

"We can't leave you here. You know what he'll do to you. You were barely conscious when we got here. Look, there's blood everywhere. Your blood. We will not let him do that again."

"If we leave, you're coming with us," I said, "and if you stay, we stay." There was a moment of quiet, filled only by their unregulated breathing. I added, "But I'd rather not stay, so let's go."

Draco sighed. "You don't understand. My…if I leave, he'll just get me back, and it will be this all over again."

I would have to ask Hermione later who exactly "he" was.

"Then we'll come get you again." It was simple in my mind. Why was it so complicated to him?

"But he'll know that someone's helping me. He'll go after you both."

"Do you think Hermione and I can't handle him? After knowing us for, what, eight years now?"

"Draco," Hermione said, "we don't care. Your safety is what's important right now. We'll worry about him later. Let's just go. Hurry, before it's too dark to see properly." Without any more protests, Draco let Hermione help him up, and we (more or less) carried him back out to the hallway and back the way we came. How Hermione remembered the path was beyond me. We made our way back to the garden, the light from any windows becoming dimmer and dimmer, fading into moonlight. When we were back outside, Hermione went down the secret passageway first and I helped Draco down so if he fell, she would be there to catch him.

Together, we walked through the passage and back up the hole underneath the bush on the other side of the large gate. Once we all three made it out, Hermione turned on the spot and we apparated to the entrance of Hogwarts.

"Let's get you to Madame Pomfrey." Hermione and I helped Draco all the way to the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey took him without question and began treating him immediately.

"I'll need you both to wait outside. I may have to give him some quite nasty potions…" she trailed off and continued to scurry around.

Hermione took a seat on the floor next to the door, so I joined her. We sat in silence until I asked, "So, are you going to fill me in on exactly what happened to him? What were we saving him from?" She sighed and rubbed her temples.

"Draco's father treats him just awfully. He beats him whenever he can. You remember that bruise he had at the celebration. It's just been getting worse and worse. And with Draco's mom being in Azkaban, he has no one to stop it. Yesterday…well I'm not positive it's true, but I'm pretty sure…Draco's dad used the Imperious curse on the Minister of Magic and had a whole trial set up to send Draco to Azkaban, only to kidnap him and…do that," she gestured to the door, "to him."

There was a moment of silence, deep in the air, that stuck to my voice and refused to let it escape. Many thoughts ran through my mind, about Draco, about Hermione, about Cygnus. While a part of me grew anxious not being able to wait for Cygnus, thinking that he would return and find me gone again, possibly thinking I had just been another dream, there was also a part that anchored me here. I figured it was decency. After saving someone's life, it's usually a good idea to stick around and make sure they are alright (unless you have a dark lord to defeat to save the Wizarding world, then it's alright to just leave).

An hour we waited, not speaking a word to each other, but sharing the concern that always seems to visit when near the Hospital Wing. Finally, Madame Pomfrey opened the door, ushering us in with a gesture. Hermione and I shared a look of hope before we stood and followed her in. While we had helped Draco a bit at his house, he was definitely nowhere near as good-looking as he was now (I mean, he looked positively healthy now, not handsome. Not that he isn't handsome! He just…was completely healed). All the bruises had faded back into his normal skin color, and every cut was gone with blood cleared away, though some of his hair seemed to be slightly reddish in color.

"He suffered some pretty nasty cursing. Took quite a lot to fix him. He's lucky I got to him when I did." Madame Pomfrey looked to Hermione, and they shared what seemed to be an entire conversation with only facial expressions. I looked to the ground, trying not to eavesdrop on their unspoken words. Suddenly, I felt quite out of place. I belonged back in that field…

"Hey, Potter," Draco called out, sitting upright in his bed.

I turned my head, almost thinking I had misheard that we was talking to me. After making my way to the side of his bed, I replied, "Yes?"

His eyes narrowed and he looked me up and down suspiciously. "Did you mean what you said?"

"I usually mean what I say, but could you be more specific?"

He looked away for a moment, but locked eye contact with me when he said, "You said you would go save me again if he took me away. Did you mean it?"

I merely shrugged. "Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I? If you haven't noticed, I'm sort of a Gryffindor, set on saving people's lives." The words had sounded much more sarcastic in my head than when I had said them out loud in a sort of quiet, unconfident tone.

He nodded, looking away. "Do you know?"

I tilted my head. "Know what, exactly?"

"How I…how this happened."

I looked back to the ground.

"Yeah. Hermione told me."

As much as I felt I should apologize, I didn't. What should I apologize for? It wasn't my fault his dad was evil. Still, I felt sorry that he had to live like that. I would go through living with the Dursley's over having a father who beat me.

Our conversation seemed to end there. Even if he hadn't said it, surely he was happy to have gotten away from that place alive. Madame Pomfrey and Hermione came over to us, finished with their conversation as well.

"Can I leave now?" Draco ran a hand through his hair.

Madame Pomfrey looked stern. No matter how old we got, she still seemed to think she was the final say.

"You should stay until morning. It's late, anyway. And from what little of your story I've heard," she glanced at Hermione, "You cannot return home anyway."

Draco swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I have a…new home. I won't be returning to Malfoy Manor until my bones have rotted away." He sounded bitter, but looked fearful.

"You really should stay here and get some sleep," urged Hermione. "You'll feel better in the morning."

From the look in his eyes, I could tell sleep was the last thing on his mind. I quite understood that feeling. If he stayed in the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey would probably just about force him to sleep.

"You can stay in my room here if you want. There's a bed there, and it's still inside Hogwarts, so if don't feel good, you can just come back here."

He met my eyes. "Where will you sleep?"

"I…uh…actually was planning to be somewhere else tonight. I'm…waiting on someone."

There was a brief pause before he started, "Harry, I-"

"Don't protest about it. It's a great room," I stopped from rolling my eyes. Why couldn't he just take my kindness? "I know it's not Slytherin, but honestly, it's a great room. At least you'll have some comfort of being in a bedroom instead of being alone in the Hospital Wing." I looked over to Madame Pomfrey. "Would that be better?"

She looked hesitant, but agreed at last. "But if you feel even a bit of pain, or nausea, you are marching right back up here, understood?"

Draco nodded and stood, walking right out the door. Hermione walked right after him, and I followed right after thanking Madame Pomfrey and wishing her a goodnight. By the time I had gotten out into the hall, Hermione was pulling her hand away from Draco, and he stared at the small item in his hand. I tried to pretend that I didn't care as to what she had given him, as not to appear nosy.

"I'll show you to my room, then?"

He squeezed the item in his hand and put it by his side. "Lead the way."

Draco's POV:

Harry could be really oblivious when he tried. I had tried to tell him I was Cygnus, and that waiting overnight in the field waiting for me was hopeless if I was going to stay in his room at Hogwarts. And speaking of, what was he doing offering me his room? He had no idea I was Cygnus, so what was with the kindness? Surely he wasn't hitting on me, was he? I don't think I could stand it if the love of my life was cheating on me with me.

I clutched my ring in my hand, concentrating on how and when I should tell Harry I was Cygnus. It would have to be soon, and it would have to be somewhere in the field, or by my lake, so we could be alone. What would he think? I mean, it wouldn't be anything like how could he lie to me like this since he had been disguising himself, too. Probably something like oh my gosh, I'm in love with my childhood enemy (come to think of it, that would make a great movie, or book). He would probably see me differently, (as in the figurative sense, not literal). Could I stand having him look at me and knowing he could be thinking of the names I called him in school instead of the love I had for him now? I had to make sure that he was ready to hear it when I told him.

We had now walked up the stairs that were near Gryffindor Tower, turning down a hallway I had never been down before. We passed all sorts of doors, and I wondered if there was anyone staying in them. At least twenty doors had gone by before Harry stopped. Surely there weren't that many guests staying at Hogwarts.

"Here we are." Harry opened the door and gestured inside sort of awkwardly. "Sorry it's not completely clean. I haven't really spent much time in here recently."

I almost replied that I knew that, but stopped, biting my tongue. "Thanks."

I went over and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling weird to be on his bed alone, as I had imagined many times him being beside me.

"Come on, Harry." Hermione pulled him out of the room, saying a quick, "Sleep well," over her shoulder, and closing the door behind her. I was now alone in Harry Potter's room, so of course, I did what anyone would do: snoop around instead of sleep.

I stood and made my way over to his chair, finding only piles of dirty clothes. Nothing interesting here. I walked over to the tiny bedside table, seeing nothing really worth looking at until I pulled out the drawer. Inside was a journal of sorts. I picked it up and opened it. Between the front cover and first page was a note, which I pulled out and read.

Dear Harry,
I know you'll object, but I'm giving you this journal to write your dreams in. After all that business with You-Know-Who and nightmares, it would be best to really know if he's gone for good; Headmistress McGonagall agrees. You don't have to share it with anyone if you don't want to, but I have to read it, at least, occasionally.

Just so you know, when you write in it, the journal will interpret it. If anything thing omen-like comes up, tell me at once. We want to keep your mind safe.

Sincerely,
Hermione

I placed the note back in and began reading the first entry (I'll spare you what it said exactly). After reading it, I thought to myself how very vague and deep dreams could be. I turned to the next page, noticing he had started his entry with "Dear Journal thing," and that the first word on the page was "Sorry." He was unusually polite to his journal. I figured all the other entries would be just about as vague and symbolic as the first two, and decided to look elsewhere. He really didn't have much in his room; just clothes, which could easily fit into 1/8 of my closet, necessary toiletries, such as a toothbrush and comb (though I'm sure he must not use the comb much), and a few personal items.

Underneath his bed, Harry kept a small, moleskin pouch. The pouch was open, and I could see something shiny inside. When I put my hand inside, I felt a smooth, round surface, grabbed, and removed it from the bag. It was a snitch. While its wings didn't open, as it would probably only do that for Harry, I could barely see their outline against the gold surface. I turned it around, trying to get a better look at them, but instead found engraved words.

"I open at the close." I didn't quite understand what it meant, or why the words were there, but surely it meant something to Harry if he had kept it. I replaced the snitch inside the bag and pulled out now a piece of parchment.

Dear Padfoot,
Thank you, thank you, for Harry's birthday present! It was his favorite by far. One year old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick, he looked so pleased with himself, I'm enclosing a picture so you can see. You know it only rises about two feet off the ground, but he nearly killed the cat and he smashed a horrible vase Petunia sent me for Christmas (no complaints there). Of course, James thought it was funny, says he's going to be a great Quidditch player, but we've had to pack away all the ornaments and make sure we don't take our eyes off him when he gets going. We had a very quiet birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda, who has always been sweet to us, and who dotes on Harry. We were so sorry you couldn't come, but the Order's got to come first, and Harry's not old enough to know it's his birthday anyway! James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell - also, Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend, I thought he seemed down, but that was probably the news about the McKinnons; I cried all evening when I heard. Bathilda drops in most days, she's a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore, I'm not sure he'd be pleased if he knew! I don't know how much to believe, actually, because it seems incredible that Dumbledore-

And the rest of the letter was ripped off. While I had almost no idea who some of the mentioned people were, I could discern that the person writing the letter was related to Harry. Obviously I knew who Dumbledore was, but Wormy, Bathilda, Padfoot, James, and Petunia were absolute mysteries. It almost seemed as if they were speaking with code names. After putting back the letter, I removed a torn picture. I could see a little Harry, zooming in and out of the photo and a figure standing, most of the body cut from the picture.

I sighed and put it back into the pouch and closed it. All of the things Harry owned were so personal, I had no idea what they were or what they meant. Really, he had nothing worthy of snooping for, which left me bored, with nothing to do for hours.

Really, I felt like going back to the clearing in the forest and explaining myself to Harry. Had he just sat there waiting since I left? I mean, I hadn't meant to leave. He probably thought I needed some time to think, or something ridiculous like that. He must be feeling less and less hopeful. But then again, this was Harry Potter; the moment he lost hope was the moment the apocalypse came. He'll probably be waiting for me all night in the clearing like a lost puppy…

The last time I had used those words, I had just before been scared half to death by Harry. I guess now it made sense why he had been at that park so close to the field. Back then I had been so scared that he would interfere with my love for Hyden. Really, I would have never guessed back that I was trying to stop myself from loving him, just to love him in disguise. How ironic.

I laid down on the hardwood floor next to his bed, feeling tired of holding myself up, but not anywhere near feeling sleepy. With random thoughts going through my head, I realized that it had been a considerably long time since I had last looked at any of my things. I missed my book that could be anything I wanted to read, and my odd marbles that had somehow merged together. As I last recalled, I had a large green one with grey inside it and a large grey one with red inside it. Before, they had been symbols of the Dark Lord, but I was sure that they no longer had any connection to that anymore, as they were completely different now. A green marble with grey in its center could represent anything, and I thought of things to fit it.

What was green? Green meant life, and nature. It could be… my field, though I have no idea how the grey would play in there. Or it could be the manor, green for my father and grey being me, trapped inside. And what was grey with red inside? Me, bleeding because I was stuck inside the manor. No, that didn't seem right. Bored thoroughly now, I could feel just how much my mind really had gone all those days stuck in that room, as the insanity came back so simply. A glittering black mass soared through the closed window, practically blending in with the night sky. The mass swirled in circles and finally landed by my side, its eyes opening to reveal large shining silver slits, reflecting light that did not exist.

"Paisley! How did you know I was here?"

The dragon, acting much like a snake, seemed to hiss his reply. "It wasn't so difficult. You always leave a trail behind for me to follow." The dragon laid its head on my shoulder. "What were you thinking about, Draco?"

"Well," I sighed, "I was just thinking about my marbles. Now that they've changed, what should they represent?" The dragon, highly intelligent since it often spent the days I was not at the manor reading as many books as it could in the library.

"What is the color of the first one?"

"It's dark green with a light grey center."

If I hadn't known better, I would have said Paisley was purring.

"Well, before they represented people, and now that they've merged together, they must represent new people." Paisley lifted his head and gazed at me. "If you could describe people with colors, who would be green?"

I shrugged.

"My father, me, my mother." Paisley shook his head.

"You are thinking about their previous meaning. Do not think of green as a dark color, but a loyal color; a color that evokes you to think lively, and yet is so calming to you."

Pondering, I could not provide any more people that the marble could represent. Someone that made me think lively, but calm me at the same time?

"Well, what about the grey center? What would that mean?"

Shaking the perfect dragon head attached to his very black, almost serpentine body, Paisley replied, "I'm sure you will find some sort of connection after you have fit a person to the green color."

I closed my eyes, and pictured the deep green color and let my thoughts wonder around it. Dark green like the leaves on my Hawthorn trees. My wand was made of Hawthorn, so I felt somewhat connected to the wood.

But surely the marble isn't me. I represented green in the old marbles. And my thoughts took off again. My wand…Hawthorn and unicorn hair. Reasonably springy, Olivander had told me that faithful day when I had gotten my wand. Harry once took my wand. He ended up giving me it back after my trial had finished. He had looked right at me and handed it to me. Looked right into my soul with those emerald green eyes of his…

"That's it!" I looked to Paisley, completely unstartled by my sudden outburst. "Harry's the green marble."

Paisley grinned, revealing shiny, pointed teeth. "And what could the grey in the center possibly mean?" Once again, I shrugged.

"I have no idea. Can we skip to the next marble?"

"Of course. Who is the next marble?"

"It's grey, so it's me," I said automatically. I looked to Paisley and finally asked the forbidden question. "Paisley, are you real?"

The large silver eyes blinked. "I am afraid not, dear Draco. I am only a projection of the inner workings of your own mind, giving you information you already had, asking questions you were asking yourself. Really, I am just part of you."

"Oh," I said. "Well, at least I know there's a part of my mind smarter than the rest of it."

"Fair enough," Paisley said, "fair enough."

Hermione's POV:

"Harry, I know you want to go back, but trust me, this is much more necessary."

He turned and gave me an incredulous look. "Cygnus could be back, waiting for me to go back so he can say how sorry he was that he left so suddenly and that he realized how much he loves me, no matter who I really am. How is that less important than anything? That's what I want. That's what will make me happy."

I sighed. He really wasn't making this easy for me.

"Harry, I'm serious. We have to do this, and before the sun comes up. I thought you would be all up for it since you couldn't do anything before."

"I have to see Cygnus. If that means I have to wait all night for him, then I will. Go do it without me."

Now I gave him an incredulous look. "You're joking! There is no way I can do this alone. I don't think anyone can do it alone."

"Well Sirius-"

"…had your father and moony to help him become an Animagus during their school days, and without that, he never could have done it by himself."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, knowing that I was right, but not quite done looking for a retort.

"Hermione, I can't just leave Cygnus alone. What if he's there waiting for me, thinking I've changed my mind, or that I was just a figment of his imagination. I don't want him to be waiting. I have to see him."

Looking at Harry, I'm not sure I ever saw more determination in his eyes. It didn't matter to him how long he had known Cygnus, because he had known Draco for years and was just now starting to see him, and love him.

"Alright. We'll…make a quick visit. You can leave him a note, but then we have to go."

A grin appeared on his face. "Thanks, Hermione."

"Of course. But afterwards we have to stop by the Burrow." We had just made it to the entrance of Hogwarts and we turned and appeared in the field where everything had begun. "I'm sure Ron wouldn't want to miss breaking someone out of Azkaban."

Harry was smiling big now. "Wow, it gonna be just like old times, then? Except, we're going to be doing things against the law first before doing the right thing."

I grinned and thought of all our years at Hogwarts, hardly remembering a time when he hadn't been doing something against the rules. "Just like old times."