Guys, you've been with me all this time – thank you! I appreciate every comment, alert and favorite. You are the best. In this chapter, Draco must face a tough decision and the possibility of losing Hermione.

LCailan

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The two men standing in the foyer glared at one another. Draco was taken aback; Zabini was wincing with pain.

"Sit down."

Draco had spoken first, and for the second time since Zabini had entered his parlor, he lifted his wand in an attempt to help him.

"Let me-"

Once more, Zabini waved him away.

"I told you, no. I am fine."

And then there was that same, tense silence. The grandfather clock ticked loudly behind them. Hermione had left the room at Zabini's cold request. Instead of sitting, he began to pace across Draco's sitting room, from the wide mahogany desk, to the heavily draped windows that faced the garden.

"Someone found out about Daisy. Someone knew where she was."

Swiftly, he whirled on Draco, his face a tight mask of rage.

"Mate, you're the only one who knew."

Draco's eyes widened as he heard the betrayal and anger in Zabini's voice.

"You can't really be mental enough to believe that I would have snitched!"

Draco's exclamation was riddled with incredulousness. Zabini's expression was unforgiving.

"Well, then who?"

"I had a son!" Draco blurted his voice breaking. "A little boy who never made it to his third birthday! I know what loss feels like, Zabini! Why would I put you through that?"

The battered tone of Draco's voice had shattered the tempestuous silence. Neither man could look up at the other for a long time. Zabini spoke first, in a gossamer tone, very unlike him.

"I'm sorry."

His candor was evident, but it did nothing to relieve the tension between the two men. Draco clenched and unclenched his fists.

"I didn't do it."

His eyes traveled to the large desk where he kept all his correspondences, all business related matters that he tended to from home, and everything else that didn't relate to his personal life. He had put a lock on that desk. Astoria, he knew, would be the only one who had access to the room, but she had never before wondered into it.

So, he had no reason to believe-

"Someone found out. They raided the flat in Paddington. I only just barely got away and…but not all of us did."

Draco feared the worst.

"Daisy?"

"She's with the WERA."

Draco nodded, letting out a breath he didn't even know he had been holding. Once more, the only sounded that pervaded the room was the incessant ticking of the clock. Draco gazed on his desk, at the papers strewn there. He wondered if he would be able to tell if something was amiss, if something-

The lock, of course.

He moved swiftly, coming around to the front of the desk. The lock remained intact, but when Draco finally pulled open the drawer, he nearly gasped, and could hardly find the strength for his next words.

"Who came for the baby?"

"Fenrir. I know that voice. Dolohov, probably. There was too much going on for me to know for sure."

"Dead?"

"No, are you off your trolley? Murdering a Ministry official?"

For a few moments, there was silence as Draco looked down into the drawer. His heart stopped, and he found no air to breathe. The papers were missing – all the papers from Zabini, every last one. Someone had been in the house. He knew he hadn't been the snitch and that only left…

Astoria.

Bloody hell!

He barely heard Zabini's words, as the buzzing in his head made them strangely far off sounding.

"We stunned them. I took care of the mess. At least I got away. I'm a few steps ahead, and that's all I really needed. Now, they'll be looking for me."

Draco's world had been shaken at the realization of his wife's betrayal, and he could hardly feel anything at the finality of Zabini's words. He wasn't stupid; he knew what the other man was saying. There was no room for him within the Ministry any longer. He had no clout and no position. And that meant Lily Potter would not be going anywhere.

"Are you giving up?"

The question wore a thinly painted veil of casualness over desperation. Not only did he have to bear the nasty sting of betrayal, his last hope of saving Lily Potter was slipping from his fingers and there was nothing he could sodding do about it.

Zabini stepped closer, his brow furrowing.

"Not until I have my daughter and Lavender with me."

Draco found himself nodding stiffly, but could not look up. What did that mean for him? It wasn't like he gave a damn about Lavender Brown or her daughter! It would not help him get Lily back, would it? But, somehow, knowing that Zabini wouldn't be close at hand made Draco want to weep. His only confidante, the only person besides Granger whom he had been able to fully trust would walk out of his house on that day, and perhaps, he'd never see him again.

"Where will you go?"

"Wherever my daughter is, mate. It's where I've got to be."

"Ah."

The reply was noncommittal, hiding the pain and the sense of complete loss that Draco was feeling. His fingers gripped the desktop. But still, he did not look up. The silence grew oppressive. Finally, Draco couldn't keep silent anymore.

"It was Astoria."

With those words, he turned his eyes upwards to see Zabini's expression melt into one of confusion.

"Come again?"

"It was Astoria; she came in here, broke into my desk and took…everything that you had sent me. All the letters you owled me, everything on Daisy and what had happened were in this bottom drawer, and they're gone now. Thank Merlin you never mentioned Lavender's name."

Zabini had paled with each of Draco's words, and when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out but a strange hissing sound.

"Why?"

When he did speak, it was just that one word. Draco sighed.

"I don't know."

"Does she know about you and…?"

Zabini's dark eyes flickered towards the two double doors that led into the hallway down which Granger had disappeared.

"I don't…think so. She assumes; she's assumed a lot over the last five years. I don't love her; I never have."

"She must have a reason to do what she did, no?"

Draco stood and faced his colleague and the closest thing he had ever had to a real friend.

"I suppose so."

But, he wasn't sure and Zabini looked tense as he spoke.

"Who's to say she won't meddle in the rest of your life, Malfoy? You're not…this isn't a safe place for you anymore. Don't you see? She's taken a side. She's betrayed you."

Draco looked away, feeling his heart in his throat. Perhaps it was true. This had become a safe haven, but just as the flat in Paddington, Draco felt like even his haven had been violated by betrayal and a wife who most likely abhorred him. He couldn't even find the words to reply and Zabini's voice broke the silence once more.

"You know, Granger would be safer if she were away from here, too. Even the alienage is safer now. The more time she spends here, the more you risk ending up like me. She risks the Dementors, sure, but you've got clout. You could keep her off the lists as long as possible."

Draco snorted with reproach.

"Parkinson is no Dementor, last time I checked. And she was the real problem."

"You're telling me that you, Draco Malfoy, can't control Pansy? She's dead mental, but she's still just a woman."

Draco looked away, feeling panic creep around the edges of his consciousness. It had been a long time, months really, since he had felt its familiar icy fingers. Draco decided he hated it. Granger had made it go away, for a time, and now he was facing life without her. Zabini didn't know. He didn't know that Pansy had made an offer, and now, it was the only thing that Draco had left.

It's Lily or Hermione, isn't it? Once she finds out Zabini can't help me, she'll want to know what else she can do. Can I lie? Do I even want to? What am I going to do?

Draco wanted to loathe Hermione Granger, to despise her for what she had done. Making him feel things! Making him want her so! Making it impossible to face life alone!

Fucking hell! No, I can't. I can't admit something like that. I can't let Zabini see…

"What makes you think even give a damn about what happens to Granger?"

His words were cold and vehement, but they made Zabini laugh wryly.

"Because, I've been where you are! Because, I see that look on your face now. Why would you bother with Potter's daughter if you didn't feel something towards Granger? You've admitted that this whole mess is due because of her, so you should ask yourself why."

Draco found himself angry and cornered.

"Stop staring at me! You don't know me, so don't presume what I do and do not feel!"

His voice was strained and raised higher than normal. He didn't see Zabini shake his head in defeat. He was only aware of his own growing terror. Now what?

Finally, Draco turned, defeated and his voice was small and uncertain.

"So, will I see you again?"

"As long as there is fight in me, you will. WERA is coming for the Muggle-borns in your alienage. I'll be with them. They're going to try and get out as many as they can, send them up river out of the city and hopefully out of England."

The words were firm and confident. Draco looked at Zabini sharply.

"Love breeds insanity! Are you mad? They'll kill you all! They've already killed dozens!"

He thought back to what had happened to the prisoners and Flint. But the only thing that drew emotion from his deadened heart was the image of Hermione holding Flint's wand and being forced to do all those heinous things the prisoners. Zabini's face was set.

"You would have me sit back, would you? Are you a man or a coward?"

The word coward seemed that much worse from Zabini's lips, and Draco struggled against attacking him. His fingers trembled against the desire and he wanted to scream, and to destroy everything in his path.

"How dare you?" he hissed. "I'm no coward! It's called using your brain, Zabini! Love is no excuse to stop using your head! Would you really risk your life for-?"

Hadn't he done the same? Draco's realization killed his rage, leaving him limp. Taking a deep, horrified breath, he faced the garden once more, shaking his head. Zabini smirked.

"Face it, Malfoy. You and I sail the same boat. If anyone in the Ministry finds out that you're keeping…"

He looked towards the door that Hermione had disappeared through.

"Well, I don't have to tell you. They ruined what Lavender and I had. They don't understand feelings and compassion. You've got to face the truth, mate. Face your feelings and realize that there's a side to choose now. As far as I'm concerned, I've been on the wrong side from the beginning and I'll gladly take the pain and suffering now, knowing I'm doing what I should have a long time ago. It's not being stupid, and my feelings for Lavender only made me realize the truth sooner."

It was the truth that Draco didn't want to face; the reality that he had been using Hermione to escape from. But there was nothing to do but face it eventually, even though he loathed the very idea. He couldn't even speak as Zabini moved towards the doorway.

Hesitating, the tall, darker skinned man paused, and then turned back.

"We need all the help we can get, Malfoy."

The blond man stood as still as death, his eyes wide. Zabini reached into the pocket of his tattered overcoat, and then he opened his dirty and bloodied palm, revealing two copper coins. He muttered under his breath, and then paused for a moment.

Draco stared at the coins, as if horrified, before Zabini handed one to him.

"You can reach me with that," he said simply.

Draco nodded, swallowing. Of course, the sodding Protean charm. Even thinking about it made everything inside of him freeze. It only brought back the horrid memories of his sixth year, of the terror he felt at Voldemort's request, of his inability to kill Dumbledore.

I'm a coward.

Still, that thought raged within him, having only been pacified for a moment by Hermione's gentle insistence. Now, she wasn't there. Soon, she wouldn't be there at all. And he was still a coward. Nevertheless, he found himself clutching the tiny copper coin tightly in the center of his fist.

Then, the taller man turned and opened the door.

"Zabini."

The name was strangled on Draco's lips, and his face was too pale, he knew.

"Take care of yourself."

Zabini nodded.

"I always do. You do the same, Malfoy."

Then, he was gone. Draco stood alone in the empty room. It was emptier now than it ever had been. He wondered if he'd ever see Blaise Zabini alive again.

But even that disturbing thought did nothing to take his mind from the true problem – and that was facing his own feelings, and what he would do next.

What is the truth?

Draco stared down at his hands, which were clenched into loose fists, and he managed to take a few breaths, praying that the panic not set in, that the feeling of being overwhelmed, as if he were drowning, would go away. He had been so certain that Lily could be saved, that Hermione wouldn't have had to sacrifice herself. But, here he was. Facing the truth, that it would be the only way now. Zabini was gone, and with him, all possibility and hope.

She would want to know what else they could do.

He would have to tell her the truth.

He had already lied to her. And, he would lose her.

I can't lose her!

Hours had gone by, and it was only when the day was getting on in hours that Hermione had realized it. She hadn't seen Blaise Zabini in years, and something about his broken, bloody arrival at Draco's doorstep had rattled the very core of her. He had looked defeated and terrified. And that terrified Hermione. She had thrown herself into what was most comforting – housework. But even that could not distract her from her thoughts, for all she could focus on was Blaise, the fact that she had overheard that the Death Eaters had come for Daisy, and that more had died.

Merlin's beard! How many more must die?

It bothered Hermione that she knew next to nothing, and not even standing next to the door had revealed much. Perhaps Draco had cast a silencing charm on the door, which irritated her. It was a cold reminder of just how low she had fallen. At one time, Hermione had been the one everyone went to, now she was…

There was a sound from the staircase, which startled her out of her dismal thoughts, and just as she glanced up, she saw a still shadow standing at the top landing.

"D-Draco?"

Hermione stood, peering up with hesitation. The shadows of the early evening lay heavily all around them, and even the brilliance of his white-blond hair was dulled by their impenetrable blanket.

Her voice atremble, she spoke.

"What's happened?"

"The Death Eaters found out about Daisy. Blaise got to her first."

The reply was nothing if not curt and try as she might, Hermione could not catch his eyes.

"So the baby…she's all right?"

"Is anyone all right anymore, Hermione?"

Even under such uncertain circumstances, the sound of he name on his lips sent a shiver through her. The sound of Draco's footsteps coming down the stairs echoed through the space.

"I feel like all right no longer exists."

Hermione felt stung by his words, though she did not know why. There was something inexplicably sad and lost in their utterance, and that, even more so than the vacant expression on his pale face, caused Hermione great unease. He passed her, moving towards the large sitting room on the first floor of the house. Her eyes followed him, and though he made no sound, did not even spare her a glance, she felt compelled to follow him, clasping her icy cold hands together tightly.

"Draco, I-"

"Don't, Granger."

The command startled her, and brought on a stark silence. She hesitated, torn between going to him and ignoring his sudden coldness towards her, or standing in place and waiting for him to make the next move. All she knew for certain was that his obvious distress made her heart weep and she wanted to make his pain go away. In the end, Hermione waited. After what seemed like eternity, Draco's voice rang through the darkened room, the tone plaintive.

"Zabini can't help me. The Ministry is onto him, and he's a wanted man. He can't return to his post, or the alienage."

Hermione saw his pain when those gray, glittering eyes met hers in the half darkness.

"He can't help Lily."

Though Hermione's heart shattered and plummeted to the deepest caverns of despair, she willed herself to remain calm, stepping closer to him, reaching out to put a hand on his arm, even this small movement bringing a sort of comfort. After all, they still had each other, didn't they?

"There's got to be something we can do," she uttered hopefully, turning her eyes upwards at his stern profile, so white, even in the darkness falling.

"No, there's not."

It was a sharp retort, and it made Hermione feel as if she had just been slapped. It stung. As she watched him, she could see that he remained stubborn in his refusal to look at her. It was as if he were desperately trying to keep something from her, and it was rather irritating.

"There isn't only if you continue to believe that!"

Her tone was reproachful, and it made Draco look down at her, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Hermione sense the tension; it was so thick she could have cut it with a knife.

"Look, Granger, we don't have time for this now."

The change of subject startled Hermione.

"What are you getting on about?"

"It was Astoria who betrayed me. She broke into my office desk and found out about Daisy. She turned Blaise into the Ministry. It's not safe here for you."

The concern was evident in every line of Draco's face, even though Hermione could feel the desperation with which he attempted to hide it. The thought of being away from Draco, caused Hermione's eyes to water.

"I don't care about myself."

There was a sudden flash of anger across his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

"Well, I do. You can't come here."

"Where will I go?"

Her whisper was thick with emotion; she tried in vain to keep the tears from coming, but they did without permission, making her eyes glitter. If there had been concern, it was gone now, for Draco once more, refused to look at her.

"Back to the alienage."

He might as well have said 'hell', for nothing terrified Hermione more than the place where Marcus and Pansy were.

"But, I-"

He turned away.

"If you stay here, she'll begin to question the relationship between us, Granger. If she so easily betrayed me, do you think she'd offer you a greater kindness?"

Lips trembling, Hermione followed Draco as he moved towards the front foyer, which lay entirely in the shadows now.

"I need time."

The words were softer now, as if muffled by the heaviness of the dark around them.

"I need to figure out what I'm going to do about my wife, and if there's a way to help Zabini, I have to find it. He's with the WERA now. Perhaps, they can still help Lily."

His words, however, held no hope.

Hermione's heart hammered wildly as she felt the gentle caress of his fingers against her overheated cheek. She leaned into it as if she was being given a breath of fresh air after being suffocated. Without thinking, Hermione wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against his chest, snuggling up to his warmth.

"Please, I want to be where you are."

It was a whisper not of desperation, but of certainty. She felt him chuckle deep in his chest, in spite of the hopeless situation that they found themselves in. She would not know what was in his mind and heart, but she knew her own, and it was telling her that she belonged where he was.

"It's not that easy, Granger."

His whisper broke her heart. Draco's fingers wound themselves in her hair as he rested his chin atop her head.

"Remember, what happens between us has no bearing on what happens outside of this house."

The words did nothing to heal the pain Hermione was feeling and she clung to him wishing that they had never started the conversation, that none of that day had ever happened. She wanted it to be yesterday, when she had been so perfectly safe in his embrace.

"Flint won't hurt you again, Hermione. I'll make sure of that. And Pansy…she-"

He fell silent. Outside there was a soft rushing sound and Hermione realized that it had begun to rain. His fingers tipped her chin up, and in the shadows, she was standing so close to him she could see the faint reflection of herself in his beautiful eyes. A single tear escaped her, and it rolled down her cheek, melting into Draco's fingertips.

He sighed.

"It won't be for long," he swore. "I…I care about you, Hermione. You know that. I'll think of something, I swear. I'll think of something."

He determined to do so, as he leaned in to kiss her, soft and sweet, for just a moment. They stood in a silent embrace, the rain falling softly around them.

Hermione could swear that he was kissing her like it was their last. And she desperately hoped that she was wrong.

He wondered if this kiss was their last.

As Draco stood, cradling Hermione in his arms, he heard Zabini's words in his mind, like a far off echo.

You've got to face the truth, mate. Face your feelings and realize that there's a side to choose now…

Hermione shifted in his arms, sighing, and he could feel the faint trembling of her body. He wasn't the only one going through something, he knew. She was terrified of going back to the alienage, of facing Flint once again. Of being hurt by Pansy.

But, that doesn't have to happen! I know what Pansy wants, don't I? She wants me. If I…

It was an impossible thought, Draco knew. But it would save Hermione and Lily, after all. And if Zabini was right, and he was to face his feelings, this was part of it. He cared about Hermione. He wanted her safe. He would do anything-

But can I do this thing? Can I give her up?

The idea sent such a rush of pain through him, Draco went weak. He ran his fingers along the softness of her face.

"Do you trust me?"

As she lifted her head and offered him that smile, Draco's world stopped.

"Of course I do."

It seemed like the most natural thing for her to say, and he wondered at the ease with which she had uttered those words. It gave him pause, and her brow furrowed.

"Draco, are you all right? I know this hasn't been easy on anyone. I'm worried too."

He nodded, swallowing. Try as he might, he wasn't able to say anything. She squeezed his hand then, pulling away from him.

"I'm ready to go back, then. I forget sometimes that I belong there, and not with you."

She was blushing and the color spread across her cheeks brilliantly.

You do belong with me.

The thought had come unbidden, but that didn't make it any less true, and with a start, Draco opened the door. He wanted to say those words to her, but he could not.

The porch was protected from the growing downpour, but the air was much colder than it should have been that time of year. He reached to hand Hermione a long traveling cloak, and extra one he hadn't worn in months.

"Impervious," he whispered as he reached to pull the hood over her mess of chestnut-colored curls.

She only watched him, her eyes wide.

Bloody hell, she's killing me with this damned trust!

Telling Hermione the truth terrified him. Once more, he made pause, causing her to watch him with that same worry in her eyes. But this time, she remained silent, only watching him as he donned his own cloak, pulling it around his body and charming it to keep it from getting soaked.

"Come on, then. The faster we move the quicker you can be out of the rain."

The words sounded lame, even in Draco's ears. After all, the rain was the least of her worries at the alienage. There was overcrowding, the freezing night temperatures and illness. It would only get worse as the winter drew near.

They moved quickly, reaching Kensington High Street in mere moments. It was late now, and the crowds were small and the traffic thin. The coffee shops along the main drag were open, offering a cheery, golden light that filtered through the windows and painted the wet, glistening sidewalks. There was jovial laughter and talking coming from the corner pubs, and for a moment, Draco found himself wanting to take her to one of them. To share a drink with her, and to hold her close in some dark, smoky corner, if only to prolong the time they had together.

He imagined that there were no dangers facing them, nothing to separate them, and that it was just a cold, rainy night that he was spending with a woman he loved-

When had love become a part of it, he wondered?

I'm facing my sodding feelings, aren't I?

Yes. Yes, he was. And the realization set something within him free.

Her hand slipped into his easily, wet from the rain, and yet, impossibly warm. It started a strange feeling churning within him, one that made him want to smile and to weep at the same time. It felt wonderful and painful with each breath he took.

Draco turned to gaze down at her, to take in the tiny, upturned nose and the wide, brown eyes. He admired the full mouth and her hair, which now glistened with raindrops, like a dusting of diamonds along her tresses. She offered a smile which he returned easily, feeling warmth permeate his being that nothing would ever quell. Not so long as she was with him. Not so long as he loved her.

It could have been different, he realized. Maybe in another lifetime, if they had been different people, he wouldn't have married Astoria Greengrass. He would have been more brave and stood up to his father against the Ministry and against Voldemort. He might have been nicer to Hermione Granger in school, too, so that it wouldn't have been so easy for her to choose Ron Weasley as her husband.

Yes, so many things could have been different.

Tonight, he could have been just another bloke, walking hand in hand with a girl, heading out of the cold rain into a warm, inviting home and holding her close all night long.

He blinked, his eyes watering, and sending his vision on a watery dance.

Except that I'm not. She's a Mudblood and I'm a coward, and this whole thing is a big, fucking mess!

He thought of Zabini once again, and this time, he stopped.

"Hermione."

She gazed up at him, her eyes flickering between concern and something else.

"There's something I have to tell you. It's about Lily Potter and Pansy. There's another way to help Lily."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid. I'm still afraid, and I'm confused."

Hermione was watching him; her throat moving against what he knew would be another bout of tears. The look in her eyes was so hopeful it tore him apart. He gazed down at the wet pavement they stood on, wishing he were anywhere but there. When Hermione didn't speak, but waited with baited breath for him, Draco knew there was no turning back.

"There's something you don't know. Something I didn't tell you."

The rain began to come down harder.