Hermione tried to ignore the fact that she'd been stuck for a second when the transparent ferret had emerged from the tent. She tried to dismiss her idiotic blush as a simple consequence of her lack of physical attraction towards anyone for the past few years, choosing this moment to rise from the dead at a well groomed man, which was not so frequently encountered within the auror's ranks. She also tried to ignore the fact that she'd pointed it out to him against her own will. Calling him stupid skeleton or transparent ferret in her head helped, the quick confused glances he kept throwing her way, not so much.

Eventually her attention moved to the more important topic at hands: their upcoming attempt at finding the resurrection stone.

Lee joined them an hour after they'd started, his wary and maybe slightly stressed face tensed, but ready to work. The whole day passed in a working haste, as teams were made, supplies were summoned and packed, protocols were reviewed, plans were learnt by heart, maps were traced, crossed and annotated, charms were performed and practised, and finally, a few hours after dusk, they were ready.

Hermione had packed everything she'd need and more in her beaded bag, under the others' small smiles of gratitude. That bag had saved their arses more than once. Dittany had been sent by Luna, at the very last minute - she'd had to make a new batch just for them - and as the last item on her list was crossed, they all got out of the tent.

The moment was tensed and the air heavy under a wary atmosphere, as the one that preceded a big intervention always was. No one talked for a moment, while they all gathered their thoughts, heads bowed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Then the moment passed, and as Hermione saw Harry's stare harden, Lavender's eyes pleat, Ron's wand spark, Kingsley started in a quiet but heavy with meaning voice:

"Creevey, you know what to do." He then waited for Colin to nod and disapparate without even a backwards glance.

"Team one, on spot." Lee, Ron, Dean, Neville and Hermione took a step forward.

"Team two, back up. You wait for signal there." Malfoy, Zabini, Harry and Lavender took a step back.

"Remember. We track. We find. Jordan bears signal and retreats. We put the bait out. We wait. Potter and myself will tap the coin, and you'll know what to do." He watched them all a moment, his eyes set serious, his mouth a straight line of responsibility.

"Malfoy, you're on." Kingsley turned his back to the other team, and started rummaging through his pocket. The moment of concentration had passed and Hermione could see the others straightening their clothes, righting their backpacks, talking quietly. While Kingsley charmed the Portkey for them, she caught a last glance at Malfoy. He had his back to her, his heavy black robes making him a tall and intimidating figure. She was about to finally turn around when he did first. He lifted his face right to hers, as if knowing exactly where she stood, and her pocket got warm. He nodded for her to read, his face, for the first time she'd ever witnessed, worrying. Panic had just the time to hint that it vanished.

- Be careful.

He was worried over her. When all the others were forgetting they were even friends to concentrate on their work, Malfoy was worried about her. He was still looking at her, visibly uncomfortable when she lifted her face. As she had no idea what to do and simply stared at him, he mouthed:

"Promise?" She smiled, a real smile. Draco Malfoy was worried for her well-being, and she had to admit that she was for his too, just as much as she was for her friends. She nodded slowly and pointed a finger at him, returning his question to him. She saw him exhale in almost imperceptible relief as he nodded too, a small smile on his lips.

It was the last time she saw him, in quite some time.

Draco knew that he had to be at the Manor for this to work. He was the master of its wards, and he knew the estate by heart. He also knew that as the ward breaker, Granger had to be with Jordan to look for the Lestranges' hiding. But seeing her gaze turn harder and her frown tint with determination as she prepared herself to take Shakelbolt's Portkey, had felt wrong. Like if something ended. He had a clenching gut feeling that something bad would happen. Like she'd again, live some sort of horror. So he'd written his concerns, and decided upon writing regularly, whatever coin tapping bullshit they'd decided on doing.

After that he had apparated his team to the manor, Blaise and Potter first, then Brown. He'd landed them in the corridor next to the drawing room, an ugly memory of Granger snapping in it, persistent under his retina. They'd decided upon settling in the library to work, that room being the only one Draco had no particularly bad memories attached to. He'd summoned chairs from the lounge so they could nap and work comfortably, and Draco had reassured Potter that they didn't need to make rounds, for he'd know instantly if someone approached, thanks to the wards.

It was in a heavy silence that himself and Potter had started reviewing their notes, worrying apparently equally for the rest of the team – or only Granger and maybe Longbottom for Draco – Blaise had started reading a book that had stayed on the table when Granger and Brown had left, and Brown was perusing the aisles of books somewhere unseen in the gigantic room.

They stayed like that a large portion of the night, up until Brown had come back from her little wandering around, her arms full with books. She'd just let them fall on the table she'd occupied with Granger days prior, when her stomach growled furiously.

"Err … Malfoy …"

"Pixie." The little elf popped in front of him instantly, a joyous smile on her tiny face.

"Master Draco! I wondered when master would call Pixie! Pixie was worried when Mistress Narcissa has gone!"

"I know pixie. She's safe no worries. Would you mind making us err … breakfast?"

The elf didn't bother answering she popped away just to be back a minute later with a platter full of food.

"Done! What can pixie do now?"

"We've got all we need thank you." The elf seemed disappointed and before she could pop away again, Draco had a flash. They were about to lower the wards to welcome crazy ex-death-eaters.

"Actually Pixie." Her little pixie ears lifted under her groined smile. "The manor isn't going to be safe for a while. I'll tell you when, but when I do, I want you to go. Anywhere …"

"To twelve Grimmaud place. With Kreature and your mistress." Potter cut in and Draco lifted his face in surprise. "And order her not to reveal the location to anyone. Ever." Draco nodded his thanks, his mother would be glad to have her elf back.

"Heard him? You go there, never reveal the location to anyone ever, and you're not to leave until I come to you and say so. Understood?"

"Yes Master Draco. Is the mister Potter saying the truth? Will mistress Narcissa be there?"

"Yes she will." The elf's smile grew to each side of her face and then she popped out of existence.

"Didn't know you came to care so much about house elves." Stated Potter with a suspicious stare.

"I do." There was a pause and then Potter blurted:

"Dobby is dead." He had lowered his face to his hands at that, and Draco, who already knew - the elf's death had been in that interview in the daily prophet so long ago - saw grief strike the man's features. Draco hadn't been that affected, but had still felt somehow sad to hear the news, and knew for a fact that Potter had been really fond of the elf.

"I know. I'm sorry Potter." Potter just nodded. Draco felt like he'd apologised way too much for his crazy aunt's behaviour already, but he still felt responsible for what had happened to them that day.

They ate their breakfast in silence, each deep in thoughts, apart maybe from Blaise and Brown, but Draco couldn't be sure, he'd only caught one shared glance between the two.

By six in the morning they still hadn't heard from the other team, and Draco was toying with his parchment, refraining from writing, as he knew perfectly well that he would be disturbing her in her work. They probably still hadn't entered the first hiding. Potter had been fidgeting furiously for an hour now, and he stood abruptly to pace around the library. Blaise reacted.

"Quit pacing around. It's annoying. They're going to tap the coin, give them time to enter that bloody place already."

"I can't."

"Right." Blaise put his book down on the floor next to his chair, and stood. He went out the library for a couple of minutes and came back with a game of exploding chess.

"Here, sit, play with me."

Hermione's upper lit wet with drops of sweat as she blasted the last spell. The wards were broken. She was under Harry's invisibility cloak, and her magic hidden behind the trees at the edge of the forest surrounding the tiny house. She backed up and a desillusioned Neville stepped closer. He cast an unvoiced hominium revelio. Only one spark. One guard.

"Back up." Were Kingsley's murmured orders, and so they did. They all apparated to the place they'd chosen, three miles away from the house, near a muggle abandoned factory. They entered the ramshackle building, silenced the place and started talking.

"One person, we should just try to track the parchment and leave him be. If he usually reports or anything, they'll know we're on to them." Said Neville.

"Yes, but if we don't incapacitate him he might join the others when we attack." Said Ron.

"Jordan, could you place a tracking charm on him from the forest?" Asked Kingsley.

"Probably. I can try. Yes." Lee looked unsure, but determined, he'd try and wouldn't stop until he'd succeeded. Gryffindor once, Gryffindor always.

"Good, Creevey would be alerted and could send someone from the catastrophe team should he move."

"Good." Nodded Ron.

"Granger anything on the wards?" It felt odd having Kingsley call her Granger, but they were on a mission and it was what they did. No more friendship to alter their work.

"A bit complex. Definitely not the act of a single man. I'd say one of the death eater has cast the wards, maybe it's the same on all their safe houses. It's going to take longer than expected."

"As long as they don't know what we're doing it doesn't matter. But if they took time to place good wards, they might visit. We definitely need the tracking, in and out Jordan."

"I'll manage."

"Good. We go back there. You place it and then try and track the parchment, see if it's ever been there. Granger you mirror their wards so they don't suspect anything. If there's no trace, we go in order as planned, if there is, we follow it." Every one nodded. "Ready? Go."

It was already dawn, the air was crisp and Lee and Neville were taking too long. It'd been two hours already. They'd tapped the coin for Kingsley but Hermione couldn't help but jerk her head or jump at every noise the forest did. Birds were singing, oblivious to what was happening that could be decisive for the wizarding world. Leaves cracked under her feet and she could very well see that Ron was loosing patience.

She could only imagine in what state Harry probably was, and seeing Malfoy's bout of worry the night before, there were a few chances that he was worrying too.

"Granger desillusion Weasley. Weasley you go check on them."

Hermione obeyed, and even silenced Ron's shoes before he went away, disappearing among the random lines of trees.

They only came back an hour later, Ron with a red face of annoyance, Lee looking defeated and Neville just exhausted.

"Granger, with Thomas, on." It was now Hermione's turn again. Dean started before her, soon she could only see his footprints, and she followed them quietly. They stopped at the same spot as earlier that night and she brushed his shoulder to sign him to step aside.

Then she did her job. It was, drained of all her energy, about fifteen minutes later, that Hermione finished mirroring the wards. It wouldn't take an expert to see that they were fake, but if one didn't really check, one couldn't know the wards had been broken. They went back straight away.

When they reached the others they didn't say anything and all apparated back to the factory.

"Nothing. No trace of parchment." Muttered Ron.

"Jordan?"

"Tracks placed."

"Granger?"

"Wards mirrored."

"All right. Naps and rounds, we review the next place in three hours. We're off at dusk."

Draco was watching with strange amazement the battle of minds currently occurring in his library. Brown was wriggling with anticipation as Potter and Blaise still hadn't managed to win or loose the game. They hadn't moved a single pawn in nearly fifteen minutes.

His wand arm twitched. Coin tapping. They all froze a second, eyes growing wide with fright and retrieved simultaneously their coin, on alert, wands at the ready. Nothing. Nothing.

"So what now? They wait until tonight?" Asked Blaise after a moment.

"Yes, we won't risk being seen in daylight. We have to remain covered as long as possible. Best would be until they come around here but I doubt it would happen." Sighed Potter.

"We wouldn't want to be too lucky Potter. You've never been, it would mean something's wrong." Blaise mocked but it lacked his usual enthusiasm. Potter chuckled un-heartedly.

"Right."

As they went back to playing chess, Draco's mind drifted to the other part of the team. They'd found nothing, so they'd go to the next house on the list. If they still found nothing there, they'd go further and further away. Uncertainty started bubbling up in his mind. What if they'd been wrong? What if Lestrange had been cautious enough to get rid of the parchment? They'd never find them.

No, they had worked their arses off to cover for that. Every possible location the two monsters could be in, they had on their list. And if they failed, they could always arrest Parkinson and make him talk. Plus, Granger had said she'd find them, so she would.

Maybe he could ask her thoughts. He was about to, when Potter made it easier for him:

"Malfoy this is killing me, could you ask Hermione for details? Kingsley was supposed to send his patronus but I guess he won't until they're ready to go." Potter had a strange grimace playing on his mouth and nose, as if asking Draco for something was hurting him. Draco smirked.

"I don't really feel like it Potter." The last gave him a stony face.

"I won't beg. I'm your boss." He droned.

"And you're in my home." Draco countered, his smirk betraying his urge to laugh.

"Just do it ferret." Draco chuckled.

"If that's an order scarhead." Potter's mood seemed to improve as he realised Draco was only teasing. He chuckled as Draco grabbed his parchment.

"Reminds me of school." He stated. Draco gave him a cornered smile, as much as they hated each other back then, the memory of those times were good ones. At least for the first four years. Constantly sneaking behind Potter's back, or hexing each other in the corridors had been a game played with mirth. The competition had been fierce and for each low blow, an equivalent one had been shot from the Gryffindors. As Draco took a quill from the table, Potter continued:

"Remember when we trapped your Quidditch lockers?" Potter was smiling a bit too much. Their hair had scratched for days after that.

"Remember when I dressed up as a dementor?" Blaise burst out laughing, and when Draco thought Potter would loose his shit, he actually chuckled:

"I can't believe I fell for that."

"Fell being the key word in that sentence." Commented Blaise, his smirk almost rivalling his usual grin. Brown was already giggling. Potter grimaced, and as Draco chuckled he went further:

"Remember when fake Moody transfigured you into a ferret?" Draco scowled, how could he not remember, it'd been traumatic enough, and those bloody Gryffindors kept calling him ferret all the time. Was time for payback.

"Remember when I punched you in the nose on the Hogwarts express?" Potter winced.

"Remember when you were idiots and kept fighting each other all the time?" Smiled Brown. Potter pouted and Draco realised he'd followed.

"She's right, if you list it all we'll still be in here next year." Said Blaise. Potter turned his attention back on Draco and smiled.

"You know Malfoy, looking back, I have to say that even if you looked like the bad guy, you played as fair as we did."

"Not fair then."

"Nope, not an ounce." It was the first friendly smile they'd ever exchanged. The moment was cut short though as Draco suddenly remembered what had triggered their little snap in time. The parchment was still in his hands and as he eyed it, Potter's smile vanished and he said, all serious:

"Ask for details. All the details." Draco nodded and wrote:

- Granger, Potter wants details.

- Good, Kingsley's asked me to write them on here, if that's okay with you. Would avoid sending patronuses all the time.

"What did she say?"

"Kingsley wants to communicate with this, instead of Patronuses."

"Ah." Potter shrugged impatiently and added: "Details please."

- That's okay. "Details please" He said, I think he's a bit on the nerves.

- No kidding. Place empty but one guy, we left him to remain uncovered but Lee's placed a trace on him so we know if he moves. Wards not common ones, broken of course, mirrored for illusion. No trace of the parchment anyhow so we rest and go visit the next place at dusk. I think it's going to take longer than expected, especially if they warded all the places with such precaution. Took me more than three hours to break through it.

Draco read her response to the others, skipping the first two words. Potter seemed to think, his mouth screwed in an ugly scowl. Then he said:

"Ask what Ron thinks about the look of the house." Draco frowned but at Potter's insisting glare, obliged.

- He asks what the weasel thinks about the looks of the house. Is redface finally coming out and admitting he's gay? Interior designer sounds like an appropriate choice of career for him.

Draco hadn't been able to hold this one. It would make Blaise laugh for sure, but with Potter there … Maybe Brown would laugh though …

"I did, and also asked if he's finally admitting his homosexuality by becoming an interior designer."

No surprise at Blaise's laughter, little at Brown's, but Potter's sure wasn't expected.

"I hope she tells him that." He said. At the former Slytherins' incredulous stare he added: "What? It's a good one. We're best friends I can tease!"

- Ron is currently in a fool mood, his patience at its lowest, so I shall keep this one in mind for later. He states that the house was more a cottage and that it looked like a back up plan. He also tells Harry to let him nap properly (among the usual swearing and whining). And if I were you Malfoy, I'd shut up about acting gay, you called yourself Prince yesterday, and walked with a hand on your hip. Lav-Lav used to do that.

"What is it Malfoy?"Asked Brown with an amused glance. Draco only read the weasel's part of the answer, but kept scowling.

"I say she's wining again." She murmured to him once he was done. Potter was deep in thoughts again but Blaise didn't miss that though.

"Keep loosing against the book-worm eh?" He smirked.

"No way." Hissed Draco, before lowering his quill once again.

- I'm not gay you churl. And I am a bloody Prince.

He even had enough money to be a king!

- And one day you'll marry a beautiful Princess and have many children and be happy for ever. All the little girls' dream. If that's not gay, I don't see what is.

- BITCH

- DOG

The day passed slowly after that conversation. They reviewed in details the next house to visit, but there wasn't so much they could do until they were there. Hermione took two turns of surveillance and napped the rest of the time.

By dusk, Ron was a positive ball of nerves but the others were better rested. Kingsley tapped the coin and Lee charmed the next Portkey. Hermione took a deep breath before the familiar tucking at her belly button gripped her. They landed at the edge of a corn field. As far as the eye could see, there was only corn shoots. Hermione started immediately warding a perimeter as Ron and Kingsley went away, disillusioning themselves.

When the area was warded to her liking, Neville, Dean and Lee had already installed the tent, and Neville tapped the dirt for her to sit next to him, just before the tent's entrance. Lee and Dean went at the back of it, and they waited.

About an hour later she saw two blurred silhouettes running towards them, and as she stood abruptly, gripping her wand, she recognised the red head of hair and waited for them to hit the wards. Neville and she both extended a hand out of it, grabbing the clothes of Kingsley and Ron, pulling them in the safe area.

"Safe." Kingsley managed to say panting. He caught his breath about a minute later and took Hermione and Neville by the sleeve, leading them towards the edge of the wards again.

"Let's not waste time it's far from here." Hermione nodded, she had a job to do.

The house they were spying on was bigger than the precedent one, but once she'd broken through the wards it became evident that it was deserted. Neville didn't need to cast the hominium revelio but he still did. It went faster than expected but it'd still taken more than two hours, and they were running late. This time they tapped the coin, and once they'd been given confirmation, disapparated to their camp. Lee, Ron and Dean were next.

They came back with the exact same expression as the night before, defeated. Hermione went back there with Dean, mirrored the wards and they left back to the camp.

It was a second failure. They hadn't expected to succeed quickly anyway but it was still a failure. They'd put those houses in a logical order and clearly their logic was different from the Lestranges'. She snorted at her own thoughts, of course it was, they were crazy lunatics.

It was almost eight when they finally all settled down. That morning, they all stayed outside the tent, together, napping, leaning against the tent, or watching out for the others.

At nine her pocket warmed up though, interrupting her daydream about a proper shower.

- Potter wants details.

- Exact same thing as last night. Except house empty so no need for a trace. It's deserted. Useless. Is he all right?

- Unsurprising. He's the more irritating. Keeps pacing in the library. Blaise tried to distract him but he's loosing patience. They argue, and Brown and I watch.

- I would have pictured you arguing with him but I guess the troll is as irritating as Harry's worrying can be. They must be a good match then.

- Oh but they are. How's your team?

- Disappointed. Tired. But no arguing during interventions. Plus, we're with the big boss.

- Quiet team then.

- Napping team.

- Good nap then Granger.

- Good show Malfoy.

Draco didn't dare bother her any longer that day. Her job was exhausting, she needed her rest. But by the third day, as the coin tapping came again bearing bad news, he decided to bother her in the middle of the afternoon.

- I'm bored.

- I'm asleep.

- Not any more. Entertain me you churl.

- Entertain yourself you presumptuous twat.

- There's nothing to do but read. My eyes hurt.

- Careful you're turning into Lavender. Did she bite you?

- Not yet. She might once she's done with Blaise though.

- Sounds like they're bounding.

- Quiet talks and giggles. It's insufferable. Potter left, he's making rounds.

- No kisses yet? Go help him.

- Not that I saw, and I don't want to puke so I won't spy. Nope, not a chance I'd help him it's useless. I'd rather keep you awake and annoy you.

- Hurray ferret you succeeded. I'm annoyed.

- My pleasure book-worm. How's your team?

- Quiet. Half-asleep. Stressed I guess, the fourth sounds big.

- Keep me posted?

- Of course Mr Draco Patience Malfoy.

- WENCH.

- PRAT.

Four other days went by at the exact same rate, with the exact same absence of results. They'd wait all day like bored and useless idiots, reading, researching, teasing but quickly giving up as the tension heated up. Potter was a total wreck, Brown was bored to no end and had resolutely made her mind on emptying the Manor's pantry, Blaise was a lazy bastard and didn't seem to care, and Draco found himself reaching for the distracting piece of parchment a bit too much.

On the fourth day she'd sent the details without him asking and they'd stopped talking quickly, only to exchange a few insults and news from team to team a few hours later.

On the fifth they'd talked longer after the detail exchange and she'd written again around two in the afternoon. Their exchanges didn't last long, but at least they distracted him, and made him smile. A smile he didn't have to refrain since he was ignored by the two birdies, and Potter was always wandering around.

On the sixth and seventh days, the exchanges prolonged as the insults became a bit more creative. Draco saw himself get called a frenetic baboon, a too clean window (for the transparency comparison he guessed), an insufferable puddle of pigeon crap, a nasty smelling mushroom, and a rotten pumpkin (insult he'd redirected at the weasel instantly). She, on the other hand, had been sent the names dwarf with a wig, pile of owl's dejection, frigid doormat, rotten French cheese (he hadn't been able to come up with something more smelly), and a manipulative cow as she'd made him say he didn't mind Potter that much.

The night of the seventh day was a difficult one. Potter had stopped wandering around to show them his ugly and silent frown distorted by his glasses. He remained silent all evening and most of the night, watching blankly the flames in the earth. Draco had quitted reading, it burned his eyes in a Brown manner. Blaise was napping his mouth open, completely oblivious to the heavy tension that silently built up in the air around them. Draco was unnerved and his guts twisted more than it had the past few days. He guessed the waiting had finally gotten to him. Blaise's light snoring and Brown's fidgeting weren't of any help, and a headache was coming.

"Malfoy?"

Draco, who had been pinching his nose between two fingers, gave Potter a questioning and surprised frown.

"Can you feel it?" Draco didn't need to ask what he was talking about. He could feel it too. His guts twisted the more and he took a deep breath before answering.

"Yes."

"Did Hermione say anything before they went there?"

"No."

"Shit." He rubbed his face with both hands, lifting his glasses to his forehead, then he mumbled: "Her gut feelings are always good. Sure she didn't say anything?"

"She didn't. But she wrote a bit more than usual." Potter cocked his head to a side in thinking.

"When she's stressed she speaks more." When she was angry too.

"Think that's it?" Potter just nodded the confirmation Draco hadn't really needed. They could be wrong but Draco had come to believe Potter's guts were often right, the guy had defeated Voldemort on these after all.

Hermione had had a strange uneasy feeling all day. Writing to Malfoy had released her nerves a bit but not nearly enough for her to stop fidgeting.

Kingsley and Ron had gone to secure the perimeter and the rest of them were left to wait in a ramshackle wooden shack in the middle of the woods. The shack was probably an abandoned muggle hunting lair, so she'd warded it against muggles too just in case.

The air felt heavy and cold, and tension was palpable around them. Neville had an odd nervousness to his moves as he kept alternating between pacing and fidgeting. Lee was drenched from the constant efforts, he wasn't used to perform this much intense magic everyday. He still managed perfectly fine though. Dean was serious, but as always, they couldn't tell how well he was doing, since he never really spoke too much.

Ron had been impatient and growling under his breath all day, while Kingsley had kept his quiet and serious façade, but Hermione knew better.

A flapping noise made her jerk her head up in the air as an owl passed above the wards. An owl. An owl with a parchment attached to his paw.

They all stood instantly and went to the edge of the wards. Ron and Kingsley apparated less than two minutes after and were abruptly pulled inside the wards by Neville and Dean.

They didn't need to say anything. They were all going. Hermione turned around without even waiting for the orders, and waved her wand at the shack to make sure they hadn't forgotten a thing. When she turned back around Kingsley nodded. She left the wards on the shack, just in case, and they all walked out.