Chapter 1

I do not own anything but the plot which even I haven't figured out.
Thank you so much to my amazing hilarious friend and Beta Megan :)

Christmas HBP, Grimmauld place.

Hermione POV

I woke up on Christmas Eve, eager for the days to come. I was sleeping in the room I shared with Ginny, like we usually did when we stayed over at Grimmauld Place. We'd had such a great time decorating. Every surface was covered in greenery and tinsel; there were even fairy lights around the ceiling. It was warm and cosy – just like Christmas should be.

I untangled myself from the bed sheets wrapped around my legs, and kicked my legs out in order to reach Ginny. I gave her shoulder a forceful prod with my toe and smiled when she stirred.

"Hermione! Leave me the fuck alone. Let me sleep in peace," she grumbled. Safe to stay, she was no morning person.

"But Gin! It's Christmas Eve! I've every right to be excited." I pouted playfully, then grinned at her expression. She looked like crap in the morning. I'd have pointed it out if I hadn't liked having working, flexing fingers.

Instead, I sat up and looked around the room. I'd hung my clothes up in the wardrobe soon as we'd arrived. Ginny's were screwed up in her case still. Evidently she didn't have the same distaste for crumbled clothing as I did. I was just finishing pulling on a sweater I'd received from my parents last Christmas, when the doorbell sounded.

"What the –" Ginny protested.

"Who –" a voice begun to yell from down the hallway.

I was across and out of the room pretty quick. We hadn't been expecting visitors. At the Order's residence, it was a bad sign when we heard an unanticipated knock at the door. Harry and Ron rushed from their room at the same moment, and we collided in the hall. We exchanged dark looks and charged downstairs.

"Let me through –" Arthur was calling, but we'd already reached the front door. We'd seen the two figures blocking the threshold and had frozen in our alarm. Ron crashed into my back and we fell like dominos.

Narcissa Malfoy was bent over, not four feet in front of us, body wracking with harsh sobs. She looked pitiful, like an elegantly drowned rat. There was something upsetting about seeing this strong woman reduced to a wreck. Her faithful son, Draco, knelt by her side in an attempt to comfort his mother. His bright, usually unseeing, eyes turned to my own, and I knew then that this was a startling reality. Draco and his mother were slumped on the doorstep of the Order of the Phoenix.

With a sudden jolt back to the present, I realised that all around me, witches and wizards had extended their wands in defence. Didn't they realise that these people were no threat?

"What –?" I murmured uneasily.

"What the bloody hell are they doing here?" Ron said, eyebrows wrinkled in his confusion.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"I have no idea," Tonks answered. "She just…just apparated here and collapsed on the ground. Almost gave me a heart attack in the process."

My mind whirred. What was Malfoy doing on our doorstep? He looked so very vulnerable that I almost forgot what a dick he was. I tried to repress a pink flush to my cheeks. I usually tiptoed around the topic of 'Draco'. As much as I hated him – he'd said some awful things to me over the years – when I'd punched him in our third year at Hogwarts, I'd been reminded that he wasn't as inhuman a he'd like us to believe.

The temperature seemed to have risen significantly since I'd seen his face.

"I… I…" he started. His eyes flashed darkly. "We had to get away from my father. Just look at what he did to Mother." He exhaled heavily. "We want to join the order. Please," he said slowly, deliberately. It was the first time I'd ever heard him utter a polite word without a condescending tone.

While the adults shifted on their feet, Molly stepped forward. "Okay, Draco. Let's sort this out. Go through the kitchen, my dear, and we'll talk about this. You too, Narcissa." She fluttered her hands in our direction frantically. "Go on, kids. This is Order business."

Ron gave his mother a long look. "Mum –"

"Upstairs," she repeated loudly. It was the kind of comment that was not meant to be undercut.

Thankfully, Ron let it lie. We headed upstairs as quietly as we could, hoping to catch a small word or two – just a whisper of things to come. Unfortunately, we had no such luck. Ginny stood at the top of the stairs, still dressed in her pyjamas and slippers, observing the events with wide dark eyes. She was practically bouncing from the walls as we shut ourselves in the boys' room to have a chat about what had just happened.

"Can we use the extendable ears?" she asked eagerly.

"No chance," Harry muttered eyes bright, brow furrowed. "There's still a repellent charm on the door."

"We'll find out soon enough," I said, worried. I considered the fact that I was more concerned about Draco and Narcissa's wellbeing than our own just now. My mouth turned down just a little. I didn't like that possibility.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked quietly, squeezing my arm gently. "Everything alright?"

"Malfoy's downstairs, Ginny," Ron scolded, "of course everything's not alright. Hermione's just coming up with a plan to find out why, right. If anyone can, it's Hermione."

I wasn't so sure. An hour of anxious waiting around and utter confusion passed by slowly. We'd talked briefly about this and that, but our minds were firmly set on the events that had unfolded earlier that morning. It was just after eight thirty when we heard a call from the kitchen. Ron sighed in relief and muttered something about being hungry enough to eat Pigwideon. Ginny hopped up and caught Harry's shoulder. They descended the stairs together, arm in arm. I followed, hoping that I'd find two new members of the Order sitting down for breakfast.

"Draco and Narcissa have gone to speak to Dumbledore," Arthur confided when we'd settled down around the table. "He's the only one who can possibly sort out this mess."

Molly had prepared quite the breakfast banquet, despite the circumstances. Ron dug in, whilst the rest of us wondered what was being said between Professor Dumbledore and the Malfoy's.

"This is a little unexpected," I said, voicing my concern.

"Why now?" Harry extended, concentrating with a deep furrow between his brows. He turned to Ginny with a bewildered expression. She shook her head uselessly.

Arthur looked to his wife quickly, who gave a small inclination of her head. He sat down heavily and folded his hands on the table. "Draco is insistent that Lucius has been abusing Narcissa for years. She hasn't confirmed or denied a word, as yet. It does reawaken suspicions we'd had years ago, around the time of their marriage. Rumours lingered that he'd been harming her, but she never spoke out." Molly bent and sat next to her husband, patting his hand.

Remus gave us a long look. "Draco says that when Lucius threatened to physically harm him after he failed to prove his worth to the Death Eaters, his mother intervened."

"He isn't a Death Eater already?" Ron asked.

He and Harry seemed surprised, but I was relieved. "Of course not, Ronald. He's sixteen!"

In reply Ron sullenly chuntered about women and their menstrual cycles. I rolled my eyes.

After fifteen minutes or so, the atmosphere in the room had lifted. Molly was such a good cook that we couldn't fail to enjoy her bacon and eggs with homemade bread and jams, even with news of the Malfoys' hanging over us. Soon enough, the conversation turned to less important matters.

"Isn't it bad enough that he ruins our school lives?" Ron said, messing awkwardly with wrapping paper and Sellotape that Kreacher had found for us. "What more can the tosser possibly want from us?"

"He could betray us," Ginny said anxiously as she created ribbon decorations for the present she'd wrapped up for her mother.

"As much as I agree, maybe he'd just misunderstood," I said, shrugging in an effort to make my statement more casual. I was perched on the edge of my allocated bed, books spread over my lap.

"Misunderstood?" Ron repeated indignantly.
"Just look at his home life, Ron," I began carefully.

"His supposed home life."

"That's not fair, Ronald. He's obviously had a difficult past. Did you not see his mother?" I said, arms folded across my chest.

"And what about everything that's happened over the past five years, Hermione? Is it 'slate wiped clean'?" he argued relentlessly.

"Calm down, Ron," Harry intervenes. "It's obviously no excuse. Hermione was the worst hit by Malfoy's insults." He looked at me steadily, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "As if Hermione would ever forgive him for that."