A.N. Here ya go! The next chapter two days later, as promised ^^. See I can keep my promises!

Once again, I still don't have a beta, so have mercy on me. If you would like to beta for this story please send me a PM and I will probably love you forever.

Alright there is some Dramione in this chapter. See? Another promise I kept. Aren't you proud?

Disclaimer: Mine. My precious...Just kidding. Recognizable stuffs are not mine.

Chapter Eleven

Refreshed and strengthened after her shower and pep talk, Hermione threw one of the outfits she had configured from the sheets she had found tucked away and checked on Draco. He looked almost boyish laid out of her bed, but he looked to still be stable, so she busied herself with cleaning up the wreckage from the fight as best she could. The potions lab was worse off compared to Draco's room and seemed like the best starting point considering she had plenty of guest rooms to choose from to sleep in so hers would be fine in hers for a while.

The lab was absolutely obliterated. Even the long tables that were anchored to the floor were in shambles. Luckily most of the potion and ingredient cabinets were untouched for the most part. There could have been worse things than an explosion if their errant spells had hit any one of the shelves. Hermione set a timer on her wand to remind herself to eat and check on Draco again. Cleaning had always been cathartic to her, so she knew it would be easy to lose the entire rest of the day in the lab.

The obnoxious whining of her wand pulled Hermione out of her task as she finished restoring last of the tables. She had already cleaned away the debris and repaired all of the scorch marks. All that was left to be done was to repair all of the tools and cauldrons that had been damaged.

Hermione dusted her hands off on her pants and headed off to check on her sleeping patient. At least he should still be sleeping after all the potions she had given him. Hermione opened the door and was halfway across her room before she realized the spot where she had left him was once again unoccupied. The sheets were tangled and tossed carelessly at the end of the bed and Draco was no where to be seen. Frantically, she began scanning for any sign of him, even going as far as looking under the bed itself.

"Draco," she yelled as she searched. "Draco, you shouldn't be…." she trailed of as she finally caught sight of him. In the far corner of the room beside, and partially hidden by, an ornate vanity, Draco was sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest. His arms rested on his knees as he stared out into space.

Hermione stopped in her tracks and stared at the tears that streamed down his face. Even though she knew he was twenty-five, barely younger than herself, Hermione had never seen him look more like a child and it freaked her out more than a little. With their history together, she was not used to seeing him so vulnerable.

Hermione crept over to him cautiously, not wanting to startle him, and knelt facing him. He didn't blink, flinch away, or even acknowledge her when she stretched out a hand and touched his arm.

"Draco," she said softly. "What happened?"

No response. He continued to stare at some lost point over her shoulder, but the tears had stopped. That was enough of a sign for her that he at least knew she was there. She shook him a little trying to bring him out of whatever trance he was in.

"Come back. I need you to tell me what happened, Draco." As soon as his name left her mouth, his eyes snapped to hers.

"You…," he stopped to clear his throat, his voice raspy. "You called me Draco."

"That's your name."

"What happened to Malfoy?" He stared at her, eyes wide with curiosity. She could still see vestiges of fear in his silver eyes.

"I killed him," she replied plainly. She offered no further explanation, blatantly skirting around the answer she knew he was looking for. But she knew Draco understood who she was referring to.

He didn't say anything for a moment, just stared in to her eyes as if he could find all the answers within their dark depths. Finally he spoke up again, his voice small.

"Did…did I really do all of that?" Hermione's heart dropped into her stomach. For all the times she had wished his memories would return, she hadn't really wanted to face this part.

"Hermione, did I do all of that," his voice gaining a bit more strength. "Is my mother dead? Did I really kill her? Did I torture you? What did I do? Why?" With each question his voice got louder, the panic clearer and clearer until he was fisting his hair with a white knuckled grip. A look of pure panic contorted his face and she could see the tears that were fighting to break free again.

"Draco!" Hermione cut him off and gripped his arms, forcing him to look at her again. She opened her mouth to speak again, but the words were stuck in her throat as she felt a strong tug on her mind.

Suddenly she wasn't staring at Draco, but standing in the middle of a lavish oval shaped room. There was a small canopy bed in the center, large enough for a child, and random toys spill across the room. On one end of the space sat a small toddler with white-blond hair playing with a miniature Quidditch set. There was no doubt in her mind that this was Draco and she had somehow managed to find herself in his memories.

Hermione had no sooner allowed herself to admit how cute Draco was as a child then the door to the nursery slammed open and in strode a much younger, but just as lethal looking Bellatrix LeStrange. The little boy stilled with a guilty look on his face and scrambled to stand with an unnatural stillness for a child of his age. Before she even knew what was happening Bellatrix lifted her arm and backhanded Draco across the face with such force that he fell over.

"Look at this mess you've made, you worthless child," Bellatrix spat out viciously. "You were sent in here as punishment and I find you playing!"

The memory shifted just as Hermione saw the madwoman lift her hand again and she was taken through countless beatings that Draco had suffered at his aunt's hand as part of his "grooming." Lucius taught him the majority of what he knew of the world in regards to hatred of Muggles and how Draco should carry himself as befitting his station, but he had never punished him. In fact, he had been a wonderful father in his youth. Maybe he wasn't as warm as father could have bee, but how much did you really expect of a man like Lucius. All of Draco's darker education was carried out in secret by Bellatrix. She always healed him afterwords and threatened him against telling his parents. His demented aunt taught him how to withstand pain with countless unforgivables and various other unseemly methods. For a long time he never fought back. That was until his first summer break after Hogwarts. He had come home protesting against everything his father had taught him about Muggle-borns and how they couldn't be all that different from them if Draco himself could be beaten by one. He never knew how Bellatrix had found out about that, but she had decided to increase his punishment since he obviously wasn't responding to her methods. So Bellatrix hit him were it would hurt the most.

Bellatrix Imperiused Lucius to dole out punishment under her control and eleven year old Draco had been tortured so badly that a nearly hysterical Narcissa had to call for a healer from St. Mungo's. Things had only gotten worse as the years went by and whispers of Voldemort's return increased. And then he was back. Draco was always under constant scrutiny as Voldemort had singled him out as the leader for the next generation of Death Eaters.

When Draco had failed to kill Dumbledore, Draco learned the true meaning of Hell. The Dark Lord used him as his favorite test dummy, never hesitating to use him as an example for what happened when one of his followers failed him.

And then he was gone. Voldemort and Bellatrix were both gone and Draco and his parents were left to pick up the pieces of their lives. Lucius was released from the curse after his sister-in-law's death and when they got home after the conclusion of the Battle of Hogwarts, it was the first time Draco had seen his father cry. No matter how he came across to the rest of the world, Lucius loved his son more than anything aside from Narcissa and it had nearly broken him to torture Draco.

But what had really broken the head of Malfoy house had come two years after the final battle. Evil had shadowed their doorstep once again and Voldemort's most loyal follower had come to collect a debt. Draco was always meant to be the face of the new dark regime and in the event that he was defeated, Voldemort had set up a plan to ensure the fight carried on.

One day when Lucius was off on a business trip, everything changed. Hermione watched on as Bellatrix, together with a few of Voldemort's old followers who had escaped capture, stormed the manor. Her now stark white hair flowed around her and she looked like the icy version of Medusa. In short order, Draco and his mother were rounded up and Narcissa was forced to watch on as her son was turned into the monster the wizarding world had come to fear. The very first thing Bellatrix had seen too was forcing the new and "improved" Draco to kill his mother.

Narcissa had not begged, had not cried, but simply met her son's stormy eyes.

"I forgive you, Draco." And then she was gone. Hermione's heart wrenched painfully for him as the events of the last six years flashed quickly in front of her in a blur of violence, blood, and chaos. All the while, that good part of Draco was forced to watch on until he managed to break free of the spell enough to escape with Hermione.

She wrenched herself from his mind with a gasp, trying to calm her breath as everything sank in. Granted, Draco had been nasty to her as a child, but she knew that none of it was his doing. She pulled him into her arms as he sobbed. He cried over the loss of his mother, the strain of the years, and the loss of his innocence. Although she would never admit it, his tears were not the only ones to soak her shirt. There was no way she would be able to hate him now. But she had no clue where that left them.

Draco woke with a pounding headache and swore as he remembered what had happened as he lifted his head from Hermione's shoulder. She had held him until the two had fallen asleep on the floor leaning up against her vanity. Suffocating waves of emotion came crashing in on him again. Draco choked back the bile rising in his throat and stumbled as quickly as he could to the bathroom before emptying the contents of his stomach.

Somewhere in the middle of this, he felt a cool hand pulling his long hair away from his face and another rub soothing circles on his back as he continued to dry heave after there was nothing left. hermione helped him wash out his mouth and get into bed. She didn't say anything and he just stared at her as she settled him into bed. For some reason he was fascinated by the faint speckling of freckles across her cheeks and nose.

"Why are you helping me," he asked her evenly. She gave a noncommittal shrug and he felt his temper rise.

"I don't deserve your help or want your pity! You should have let me die. Why are you helping me? And don't even try to feed me that tripe about needing information. If that was all you cared about you would have taken it the moment you found out my memories were back and you would have left. Why Hermione? You should hate me." By the time he finished his rant, he was truly pissed. It was beyond him why the girl that had made him question his beliefs as a child and had been tortured horribly at this hand was now helping him. The silence was heavy as he waited for her to say something. Anything. And even when she did, he still didn't know what to do.

"I'm helping you because I'm here, Draco. I don't pity you and I don't hate you. You didn't deserve what happened to you and right now, you need me." With that she walked to the door, but before she shut it, she turned back to him with a small smile.

"The dream catcher above you is enchanted to keep away bad dreams. you should be able to rest here." She pulled the door closed behind her leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.

ooooooo

Hermione sighed with relief against Harry's chest. He had seen her exhaustion as soon as she had arrived in his dreams and pulled her into a hug. He led her into the sitting room of Grimmauld Place and waited until they had settled to speak.

"So. Hermione, what happened this time? Are you ok?

"I don't know, Harry," she sighed again. "I know I'm meeting you early, but the universe decided I didn't deserve peace when I got back. Something….strange happened."

Harry perked up a bit when she paused and didn't go on.

"Should I be bracing myself," he asked as he nudged her with his elbow. Hermione laughed a bit, but her smile never reached her eyes and faded quickly.

"I know who's behind everything. And, Harry, you aren't going to like it."

"Who? You're killing me here," he said stiffly, pulling away from her so he could look into her eyes.

"Bellatrix LeStrange."

And true to form, Harry blew up. He jumped up from the couch and started pacing and throwing his arms about as he ranted, incredulous that the crazy woman had somehow managed to survive Mrs. Weasley's spell work all those years ago.

"Harry," she called only to be ignored. "Harry James Potter!" This time he stopped and glared at her for interrupting his tirade.

"Thank you. Now please come sit down and let me explain."

Harry looked altogether displeased, but with a bit more coaxing he sad down and listened crossly as Hermione explained everything to him.

"Harry, I don't even know how Draco managed to survive his childhood! Lucius just turned off after Malfoy killed Narcissa. Draco and I don't even know if his father is aware of what Bellatrix did to him, or if he's even alive. This is all so wrong!"

She put her head in her hands and Harry was quick to put his arms around her.

"How could he have hidden that from everyone? Were there signs that we missed?"

"Stop, Hermione. This really isn't any of our faults. We were children, for crying out loud. And Malfoy was truly a prick to us. There is no way we could have seen it, so get that out of your stubborn little head, okay?"

"It was just so hard to watch, even from his memories. He had no one there for him, to keep him from being brainwashed, or to save him from being changed."

Harry stroked her hair as she spoke into her knees.

"As much as I hate to say it, you're there now, Hermione."

Her head shot up and she looked into his eyes to see if he was being serious.

"Don't be so shocked. I know that you and Malfoy were secretly friends for the whole of first year. Ron and I used to try and steal your notes. I happened to find the two of you together a couple of times."

Hermione just shook her head. First year had not been a good time for Harry, Ron, and herself until the Troll incident, so she and Draco had formed a tentative friendship. They both enjoyed being around someone who shared the same intelligence levels for once. Heavens only knew why Harry had never brought up her secret friendship, but who really knew what went through boys heads.

"Well, in any case, Harry we can't stay in that house forever. It should be safe, but I think I will go spare one of these days. And waiting until night to communicate with you is not always going to be an option."

"I agree, but what choice do we have?"

"I'm not sure," she shrugged, "but I'll talk to Draco about it when I get back."

"Alright. In the meantime I think it's time for me to meet with Kingsley. I think he'll agree with me in that this needs to be kept under wraps for as long as possible. No one's going to believe Malfoy, and I'm not a hundred percent sure that I do either. Right now the two of you are in the safest place. As minister, he should be able to help me decide to go from here."

Hermione hung her head again. She knew he was right, but she was getting stir crazy.

"Fine. I'll be off then. I need to get some rest. I never feel like I've really slept when I spend the night in your dreams."

Harry snickered at her word usage and earned himself a hard smack on the chest. Hermione stood and gave him a haughty look, hands on her hips.

"You know very well what I meant, Harry James Potter."

His snicker grew to a full on laugh.

"The trouble name twice in one night? You're certainly feeling better."

All he got in response was a dainty sniff as she walked towards the kitchen.

"Oh, and Hermione," he called to her retreating back. "I noticed that it's Draco now? Any particular reason why?"

Hermione turned and tilted her head to the side as she looked for an answer.

"He's not that Malfoy anymore, you know?"

And he did. He understood very well. The Malfoy they knew was nothing more than ash.

A.N. Well here we are. I took some liberties and deviated from canon, but we'll chalk it up to poetic license, ok? Let me know what you think! I will be updating on a regular basis now seeing as the fates have granted me a wonderful burst of creativity and I am pretty dang far ahead.

I would like to thank Glorioux, as always, for her encouragement. And a huge thank you to janjan2009 for sticking with me! I really appreciate your support. To all of you who followed and favorited this story, I didn't forget you! The next batch of gluten free cupcakes are in the oven as we speak.

Until next time ^^.

xoxo

Summer Orchid