A/N: Thank you guys for your reviews. I'm writing these chapters a little ahead of time because I want to make sure that I keep updating at a reasonable time. I have a nasty habit of getting to the good part of the fic, and then abandoning the denoument, if that's how you spell it. Either way, I rarely finish my fics. I hope that updating frequently and writing this ahead of time will help me with that. If I don't update in a timely manner, feel free to bug me with PMs or reviews to make me hurry up.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter Six: The Stage of War

Hermione watched almost disconnectedly as Ronald and Harry started gathering old war intelligence folders from under the floorboards in the drawing room. Her eyes were fixed on a spot between the drawing room and the kitchen, but it seemed she could see everything in between, like she was slowly leaving her body. She distantly felt an arm around her and turned to find Ginevra there, her eyes misty, and wondered when she had gotten there.

"We can set up intelligence rounds near Malfoy Manor to determine their schedules," Ronald was saying, laying out the map of their estate on the table. "Our main obstacle will be Bellatrix. She's obviously the most vicious, and, if I had to hazard a guess, was probably the reason Malfoy backed out."

"He wouldn't let Bellatrix change his mind," Hermione heard herself say, as if from a dream. "It was only him."

Ronald gave her a bracing glance before turning back to the map. "As far as we know, Rodolphus is the lowest on the rung of the privy council, and he is often sent on smaller missions, or rather, running errands for everyone else. He should be our first target."

"You're going to have to work faster than that if you want to beat them," came a quiet voice from the door.

Harry's face went hard. "What are you doing here, Nott?" He asked. Theodore Nott inclined his head in a bow to Harry, Ronald, and Ginevra. He made his way up the stairs to kiss Hermione's knuckles softly. Ronald spluttered behind him.

"I came to offer my condolences," he said, his hazel eyes gazing deep into Hermione's soul. "Draco can be a stupid boy sometimes, but he almost always comes around."

"We aren't going to wait for that," Ronald said with renewed force, as if the thought of Hermione with Malfoy again was abhorrent. "We can't just sit around and wait for Malfoy to grow a personality."

Theodore gave Ronald a sympathetic nod. "Yes, I quite agree. That is why I want to help you," he said.

"How can you help us?" Hermione asked softly. Theodore turned his intense gaze to her, and she lowered her eyes almost instinctively.

"Because, little lioness, I know all of the schedules of privy council that governs Malfoy's future, and your own," he answered. "I am willing to tell you all that I know, so you will have the advantage."

Harry looked incredulous. "Why would you want to give us the advantage?" He asked. "I thought Malfoy was your mate."

Theodore nodded once more. "Yes, but sometimes, there is a line. And squandering the peace of the Wizarding World to act like a child is way over mine. Ergo, I am yours to command," he said, giving a bow to Harry.

Harry turned to Ronald, eyebrows raised, as if asking advice. Ronald gave Theodore a long once-over before giving Harry a brief nod.

"Tell us what you know," Harry commanded. Theodore gave him a smile and stepped forward, throwing one last look back at Hermione, who smiled in return.

~DM&HG~

"Wait," Pansy Parkinson set down her teacup delicately. "So you're telling me that Draco isn't going to get married to that stubborn wench of a girl?"

Narcissa smirked and leaned back in her chair. "His exact words were that he would rather marry 'anyone else.'"

Pansy pursed her lips. "Well, I would think a marriage to me would fall far beyond the negative connotation of 'anyone,' but I suppose I see your point," she sipped her tea. "So, is that what this meeting is for? You want me to marry your son?"

Narcissa smiled. "You are one of the few women I am considering, yes."

Pansy smirked. "We all know that I am your best choice," she said calmly. "Your only other choices are one of the Greengrass sisters or that Graciella girl," she waved her hand dismissively. "And we both know that my family is the oldest and most pure."

Narcissa took in the young woman's appearance. Her soft, chestnut brown hair was shiny and well managed, her face clear of makeup except for the light rouge on her cheeks, and her dress modest but rich. She looked like a typical girl, with atypical parentage.

"I'll think about it," she said vaguely, dismissing her. Pansy stood hurriedly and curtsied, looking disappointed as the house elf steered her out of the room.

"Bring in Miss Casimir," Narcissa called to the other house elf.

Graciella Casimir was a Polish-French witch with the oldest pureblood family in those respective countries. While she wasn't English, the bonds cemented by having Draco marry her were almost as valuable as Hermione Granger's peace, and Graciella wasn't a Mudblood.

Compared to Pansy, Graciella was positively breathtaking. Her hair, long black locks, tumbled around her shoulders elegantly, her pale white skin stark against it. Her eyes, a remarkable ice blue, were rimmed by full, long eyelashes and plump, dark pink lips. She looked like royalty. Narcissa vowed, almost instantly, to make her royalty.

~DM&HG~

"Mate, you can't stay out here for the rest of your life," Blaise Zambini said pleasantly as he strung up his bow. Draco ignored him, focusing on aiming at the distant target. He loosed an arrow and smiled as it hit just barely outside the bull's eye.

"Yes I can, Blaise," he said. "I have plenty of house elves to bring me food, I have you for company, and I have plenty to do."

"What happens when you run out of arrows?" Blaise asked blithely.

Draco smirked. "House elves can do anything," he said.

"Why don't you just go talk to the little Mudblood?" Blaise asked. "Surely that's a lot easier than letting your privy council run Merlin knows what in there," he motioned to the Manor. "Surely you can handle a conversation with her."

Draco shook his head. "No, I can't."

"Oh, come on. So you did something with a girl that she regretted the next morning. Like that's never happened with you?"

Draco turned away from his friend, trying to conceal the fresh hurt on his face. He didn't want to think about Hermione regretting being with him, especially since the feelings he felt for her were so strong. How could he have been so stupid? He should have known this is the way it would end up. He wasn't even sure why he felt so strongly about this girl. Maybe it was her magic that enticed him so; she was so rarely allowed to use it, seeing her use it felt intimate, like they were connecting in a much more serious way than sex could ever connect them.

Draco frowned as he loosed another arrow. He was obviously wrong. She didn't care about him; she was probably already crying in the Weasel's arms while he tried to cop a feel. The thought made him immeasurably angry. His hands clenched tightly around the bow, and Blaise, finally feeling the anger coming off his friend in waves, clutched the bow to pry it from his fingers.

"Draco!" His mother's voice sliced through his anger. His shoulders slumped in defeat. "There's a letter for you here!"

Trying to look unaffected by the conversation, Draco faced his mother to retrieve the letter. She was beaming at him.

"What's wrong with you, Mother?" Draco asked, unnerved.

"Nothing, nothing at all, my dear Draco," she said, pinching his cheek. Draco pulled away and flushed at Blaise's laughter. He clutched the letter to his chest and waited for his mother to leave before he opened it. He turned it over to reveal the black lightening seal.

A letter from her.

He felt his world tilt around him and struggled to maneuver his quaking fingers. Blaise watched from a generous distance as he pulled the letter open.

Draco,

I apologize for my behavior last night, and though your aunt told me that you do not wish to see me and that you no longer wish to marry me, I hope that you will remember the terms of the treaty and try to remedy what has now been broken. If you do not, I fear for not only your life, but the life of your family.

I know it doesn't seem like it, but I wish for your family to remain well. They were to be mine as well, after all. Please consider this my goodbye; I do not expect a response from you if your disgust with me is so strong that your aunt had to break the engagement.

I wish you all the happiness,

Hermione Granger

Her careful script fractured around his fist as he clenched it. He had told his privy council that he didn't want to marry Hermione Granger, he didn't actually mean that he wanted them to break his engagement with her without his knowledge.

What the fuck had they been thinking? His mind went back to the letter. His aunt. Of course Bellatrix had done this, of course she had taken the first opening to declare war against the Order again. This was perfect, absolutely perfect. Without speaking, he handed the bow back to Blaise, who took it.

"What happened?" He asked, his face impassive.

"They broke the engagement," Draco said shortly, storming away. Blaise hurried after him.

"Who's they?" Blaise asked. "Granger?"

"Bellatrix," he said, his voice quaking almost as much as his hands. "They broke the fucking peace."

"How do you know?"

"I drafted it, Blaise, I know what they broke," Draco said, his voice low as it echoed against the walls of the Manor in spite of his volume. "Which means that Hermione's letter wasn't just a goodbye. It was a warning."

"Why would she give you a warning?" Blaise asked, confused.

Draco felt his heart flutter momentarily in response, but flattened it. She was being courteous, she thought he already knew, so many reasons could have written that letter, the least of which would be desire or affection for him. She couldn't feel affection for him, not if she wasn't contesting the break up.

She could have at least fought. She could have at least tried to keep their engagement intact. After weeks of dueling, after weekends together, after…being together, she still didn't even care enough about him to come to the Manor to ask why he was dumping her. Not that he did, mind.

She must think he was the least gentlemanly fiancé to ever grace the earth. Even worse than Ronald. He groaned just thinking about it. He shoved the letter into the inside pocket of his robes and stormed into the hallway of Malfoy Manor so loudly that house elves skittered away from him.

He found Bellatrix in the drawing room, sipping a cup of tea and whispering quietly to herself. Batty, as usual. He slammed his hand on the table, upsetting her teacup. She did not jump, but instead looked at him with wide innocent eyes that he didn't buy for a second.

"What in the Merlin did you do?" He asked, his voice a low growl. He had rarely lost his temper since the war had ended, but he felt dangerously close to doing so now. She smirked, her dirty teeth showing under her lip, and rose, effectively pushing him out of her personal space. She curtsied.

"I'm sure I do not know what you mean," she said, her silky voice betraying her guilt. Draco snarled again and grabbed her by the throat.

"You broke the peace," he said in a low voice. "Without my consent."

Bellatrix smirked and suddenly his hand was burning. He wrenched it away from her neck. "I only did as you asked. You said you would rather marry anyone else, so I informed her of your decision. And then we found you a new wife."

Draco froze. He had, in fact, said he would rather marry anyone else. Damn it, he hadn't meant literally anyone else! He didn't actually want to break his engagement to Hermione, he was just upset. But he should have known they would react this way. They never wanted their son to marry a Mudblood. He straightened his shoulders. Maybe it was better this way.

But there was one thing he could not deny. "You brought another war to our doorstep. If we lose, there's no way we can ever have peace and this will be the end of the world as we know it, do you understand?"

"But they don't know we plan to attack," Bellatrix whispered, her eyes now bright with glee. "We have the surprise advantage."

Draco's mind went immediately to the letter in his pocket, and he knew that she was wrong. The Order was coming for them, and the only one who had any idea was him. He had to make a choice now. He could act, and preserve the mess they had made, or he could wait it out. Like a coward.

Slytherins were never known for being brave.

~DM&HG~

"Miss Granger, may I speak to you for a second?" Theodore's voice was soft, and Hermione found herself agreeing even before she considered the offer. He took her hand and led her out to the small garden that Grimmauld Place could boast.

"I'm sorry about everything that has happened to you at the hands of the Malfoy family," he began. Hermione stiffened, unwilling to talk about such a fresh wound, and Theodore immediately backtracked. "That's not why I brought you out here. I have no intention of mentioning them after that," he said, looking chagrined.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, her voice shaky.

Theodore broke his promise almost immediately when he heard her voice. "No sadness, Miss Granger. Why would the workings of a sniveling brat bother such a confident woman as yourself?"

Hermione's eyes fluttered with the coming tears, and she did not reply.

"You will find a better husband," Theodore promised. "There's always Ronald."

Hermione let out a strangled sob that Theodore didn't understand. He watched her closely, trying to interpret what she didn't say, her body language, and her reactions.

"You don't want to marry him," he said with a dull certainty. "You wanted to marry for love," he added.

Hermione didn't respond, but the way she turned away from him was answer enough.

"You will find someone who loves you, Miss Granger," Theodore said. "There is no question in that."

"How do you know?" She whispered. Theodore looked almost pained at her broken voice.

"Because anyone would be a fool not to love you," he vowed, taking her hand. He paused for a long time, his hand in Hermione's, staring at their connected palms. "Would you let me take you on a carriage ride tomorrow?" He asked. "Only friendly, nothing more. In time, maybe we could grow to like each other the way you liked Draco," he coaxed.

Hermione didn't think that was possible. She turned away and didn't answer.

Ronald's voice broke whatever logic Theodore was about to throw at her next. "Oi, flower pixies, time to get dressed. We're going."

Hermione quickly dressed in her fighting clothes, the only pair of pants she owned, and a fitted shirt that didn't rustle when she moved. She was the last one to enter the drawing room. Ronald spotted her first. She could feel his eyes on her as she descended the stairs. She had worn the fighting clothes a lot during the war, but he never seemed to tire of looking at her in them. This time, she could feel Theodore's eyes on her as well.

She stood beside Ginevra, in front of Harry, and bowed her head. He touched her shoulder first, and then his wife's.

"I hereby give you both permission to use your magic in whatever way you see fit in this battle. You may use your magic to whatever extent you wish, and I give you my permission to do as you wish with it until this battle and this war has reached its end," he touched Hermione's forehead and Ginevra's, and passed them their wands. Hermione took hers happily and pushed it into the holster on her calf.

Theodore and Ronald were both still staring hungrily at her, she could feel their magic now. If Draco Malfoy didn't want her, well there were two men in this room who did. Hermione, feeling her magic overtake her again, smirked at Theodore before she silently Disapparated.

A/N: I don't usually do Author's Notes after the chapter, but I want to impress upon all of you guys that this is a Dramione fic, and it will have a happy ending, but not for a while. So bear with them and enjoy the ride. I promise I'll make it worth it.