The last chapter had the most feedback of this whole story – and I thank YOU for it! I understand the conflict and the disappointment expressed by some of the readers and so I have just a few small comments. Firstly, I wrote this story the way I did to introduce conflict for when Draco returns to Hermione. Her moving on with Neville is not meant to undermine her love for Draco. It doesn't. It's simply Hermione's choice to try and move on as best as she can. Secondly, to the people who sent me the personal messages, thank you so much for doing so even though we clearly do not agree? I fear that directly replying won't do much good, so I thought I'd address the issues publicly. I'd just like to take a moment to gently remind everyone to re-read my initial author's note if you haven't already. That'll clear up any confusion as to where this story is going and which is the endgame pairing. I realize some will not want to read what is coming, but it's only plot, right? I don't plan on changing the direction of what I've written because I love the way it's going right now. I hope that this clears up any questions! There will be Neville/Hermione in this story, albeit I have rewritten some parts to eliminate as much as I can while still keeping true to what my original plot was. Having said that, I'm thrilled that J. K. Rowling gave Neville a happy ending. I'm not sure how that's going to go in this story as I haven't thought much into it really. I'd like to say Neville will be happy but I don't know yet. And now, on with the story!

LCailan

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

The wind picked up fiercely and as full morning arrived the torches were extinguished and many of the black forms fled towards the darkened wood to seek shelter and protection from the unknown. They would not go far however, because in some way there was still safety in numbers.

Draco sat beneath a moth-eaten awning, taking the protection that had been grudgingly offered him once they had realized who he was. Pansy sat at his side silently but for the heavy, dry coughing bouts she fell into from time to time. She had been coughing like that for weeks but without proper care there was nothing anyone could do to ease her discomfort.

Though it was wet and the ground uncomfortable, it was better than sitting on the lake shore breathing in the scent of putrefying bodies and so Draco was grateful for at least that. He had been shocked when his captor had pushed back his hood to reveal his face.

Theodore Nott.

Somehow, Draco had expected Theo to have followed Bellatrix Lestrange; he had always been one who wanted to be in the thick of things.

"You defected?" he asked, his brow wrinkling.

Beyond the makeshift awning voices and scurrying could be heard as other Death Eaters sought shelter within the trees. They would spend most of the day hiding.

Theo rolled his eyes, staring off into the distance. His eyes did not see, however.

"Is there such a thing, Malfoy?"

Then he sneered, and his words were drenched in sarcasm.

"Did you defect?"

The two men glanced at one another with mistrust and then Theo spoke once again. His voice was weak and reedy.

"I believed you dead for years."

Draco swallowed his throat still raw from breathing in too much dust.

"Sometimes I believe death would be preferable."

There was a long silence filled with the sound of falling rain against leaves, the sound soothing above the distant rumble of deep thunder. Theo handed Draco and Pansy a dry heel of bread to share. Pansy shook her head and turned away from the offering of dry bread; she hadn't been eating anything for a few days.

Theo then handed Draco a tin of water.

"Don't drink much," he warned. "It's…well, you saw the bodies."

Draco nearly gagged at the thought of drinking water that was contaminated by rotting flesh and he pushed the cup away which caused Theo to let out a snort.

"Right, well…when you get thirsty enough it'll be just as good as any other water, I imagine."

Draco stared at his former colleague and classmate in horror but said nothing knowing that if thirst did make him desperate, he would drink it. Instead, he began to gnaw on the bread hoping to satiate the ravenous hunger within him, if only just a bit. As he ate, Theo said nothing, still staring out into the distance.

The only sound was the steady rainfall and Pansy's dry, hacking cough. Finally, Theo broke the silence, his voice broken.

"So this is how it is."

His arms were resting on top of his knees which he had tucked close to his body and the statement held a helpless finality. Draco's eyes flickered along Theo's hunched form noting that the other man's flesh was dirty and lacerated - covered with scars, dirt and blood.

"He leaves his followers and goes into hiding."

His voice was bitter and resentful as he spoke of Voldemort.

"He promised us so long as we followed him…took his Mark, gave him our loyalty…that he would protect us."

Draco had finished the stale bread and he stared at the cup of sullied water offensively but would not drink even though his throat was dry and aching.

"And he abandoned us, tossing us away to struggle and drown in a war that…"

His uncertain, harried statement faded into the rain and Theo shook his head, dropping it in defeat. There was no need for words; Draco knew that the Ministry was losing the war, no matter what Voldemort thought about it. There was a moment when the rain and wind picked up, making more conversation impossible but then Draco spoke over the sound.

"He never cared about our loyalty. It's a wonder that other still follow him."

Theo gazed at him for a moment.

"You never did care for him, did you?"

It wasn't a question as much as it was a statement. Theo sighed not allowing Draco to reply.

"He's allowed his own sympathizers to die of hunger and thirst! He's left us to fend for ourselves against a growing resistance that's eventually going to crush us! There's not enough Death Eaters, not nearly enough to stand against the Alliance for long and I…"

He trembled a bit and then nodded towards the lake of death in the distance.

"I've watched as they've died of disease and injuries I could not help heal. I've watched as they cried out to God and wept because the pain got to be too much. I've watched them try to cut away the Mark on their flesh, scratching at it, marring it, trying to make it disappear."

The silence that followed found Theo struggling to understand what had happened. Draco found himself looking down at the robe that the other man was wearing, wondering if he had also tried to cut away his own Mark. But he didn't ask.

Theo was speaking once again.

"I never thought…"

"You never thought that we'd eventually be in this place?" Draco finished.

The dark-haired man gazed at him and then straightened his thin shoulders with a weak attempt at dignity.

"I only ever did what I was asked to. I was fighting for what I believed in; we are pureblood!"

"And that makes those who aren't less than human?"

Draco's question lingered in the rain soaked air and an ugly scowl marred Theo's face.

"You would say that. You're just as bad as Zabini. Whatever happened to the Mudblood whore you were running around with? She dead?"

Draco snorted with disgust, warring between ignoring Nott's baiting comments and pummeling him for saying such horrid things about Hermione.

He took a few measured breaths, remembering all he needed was control. He could not lose control and he would not allow a mindless comment to undermine the love he had found with Hermione, no matter her blood status. All that prejudice was behind him now, behind all of them. The war was bigger than anyone had imagined.

After a few moments, Draco spoke, his voice pulled with tension.

"Do you truly still believe that there is a right and wrong side here, Nott? It's not about my personal beliefs nor Zabini's! We made our choices and we'll pay for them, won't we?"

Theo had dropped his head again and he was trembling as he listened to Draco's words.

"For everything in life there's a price. He's ordered us to kill and torture thousands of innocent people and you still believe that we won't pay for that? That all this…hell isn't payment? You're a bloody fool."

Pansy interrupted the conversation with the only thing she had and would say.

"Haven't you already made your choice, Theo? Wouldn't you be with Bella now if you had chosen the Ministry?"

Her violet eyes shone in the shadowy darkness of the secluded wood.

"We had that choice too and we ran."

She stopped speaking, breaking into another fit of coughing. Theo sat up straighter his fists tightening in uncontrollable anger.

"Voldemort made fools of us! The Ministry fell and he ran away! I won't stand by a coward no matter how I feel about this war!"

A flash of lighting illuminated the iron gray sky followed by an insistent rumble of thunder. The wind picked up furiously for a few moments before dying down once more. The rain increased, soaking them to the bone. Draco watched rivulets of water running down the sides of their enclosure and sighed.

"So where do you go from here? How long have you…been like this?"

Theo turned away, shifting to try and stay as dry as possible.

"We've been running for nearly a month now," he snapped bitterly. "Bella will mount any attack she can; we are as worthless now as the Alliance."

A leaden feeling settled in the pit of Draco's stomach.

"And the Alliance?"

The fear was evident in Theo's eyes as he searched Draco's face before letting out a snort.

"You haven't heard about Zabini, have you? Haven't seen?"

"What?"

"He executes all captured Death Eaters for war crimes against the Alliance. He's managed to capture and murder every higher ranking official but Fenrir and I…and apparently you."

Draco's mouth had gone dry.

"He's a friend."

"He's no one's friend. You said it yourself, Malfoy. There's no right or wrong anymore, is there? Zabini's a madman. He doesn't even know who we are anymore; he's forgotten where he's come from! We might be guilty of great sins but his side, that Alliance…it is no better!"

Draco sat back against the tree, feeling the cold drops of rain running incessantly down his neck and shoulders.

No, it wasn't true. Theodore Nott did not know Blaise the way Draco did, that was all. He didn't know that Blaise had a decent, moderate head on his shoulders and he had never once relished taking a life unless it was out of necessity.

"He's a reasonable man, Nott."

There was a silence and then Theo laughed, though the sound held no mirth.

"And you were calling me a fool," he scoffed.

The blond man set his jaw.

"I know him."

The tension was palpable and when Theo spoke again his voice was weak.

"You don't know; you haven't seen what's…how he's changed. He's given no mercy even though people beg for it on their knees."

"Just like we gave no mercy to all those we killed!"

"Who's side are you on, anyway?"

The two men glared at each other the tension growing between them.

Finally, Draco relented sitting back and looking at the wet dirt beneath his worn and beaten boots.

He didn't have to consider that question; he knew he was on Hermione's side, whatever that was. The war didn't matter so much as being with her, if ever he be given the chance. He thought back to the way Zabini had vowed to protect Lavender from anyone who might try to hurt her. His love had seemed the kind that only existed in fiction but then again…

What was he doing now? Still defending her honor? Trying to wipe out everyone who could ever hurt her? It seemed like insanity but neither did Draco believe that Nott would lie.

"We should talk to him," he said calmly, the words spoken with strength and direction.

Theo snorted.

"I'd rather live, thank you. He won't listen."

"He has no choice. We were mates. He won't turn on me."

"You think."

"I know."

For a few moments, all that could be heard was the distant thunder and the rush of rain.

"What choice do we have, Nott? Do you want to run from him forever?"

"There's no choice but death."

"Then why not try to live? Where can I find him?"

Theo struggled to his weary feet, turning in a complete circle and then nodding towards the western horizon.

"That way. We were running from him in retreat. If we move that way, we'll find him."

He glanced down, shaking his head.

"Don't expect anyone to do this with you, Malfoy."

Draco got up.

"I don't."

At the end of the summer, Neville surprised Hermione with a promotion within the Clinic. She was able to move out of Luna's flat and into a row house near Neville's own home. Even though the place was tiny and it needed work, Hermione realized that it was her own.

No one had bought it for her; she owned her own property now.

Though the war raged on as the Alliance refocused their efforts on finding Voldemort and ending everything once and for all, in the cities and away from the fighting, people tried to live life as best as they could.

Hermione split her time between the Clinic and the WERA. She worked long hours and way into the night alongside Neville, not only for the money but also because there seemed to be a never ending line of poor human souls that needed help and healing.

During this time, the WERA had purchased several warehouse buildings to store supplies, medicines and dry goods for those who were going into battle. Blaise had ordered funding through the city and the citizens who were sympathetic and opposed to Ministry control. There was more than enough money to be had and with that money he ensured that those fighting for the Alliance had the food and medicines they needed to stay focused and strong while those fighting for the Ministry struggled with hunger, illness and exhaustion.

Hermione, because she was logical and possessed fantastic organization skills, was able to secure a position in managing these storage warehouses and making sure that those coming and going with deliveries knew where to drop off and how much and where the pick up. Her work with the WERA also allowed her and Leo to see Ginny and Seamus more often, and not only them, but the others, too. She would travel between locations finally able to reunite with the Potter children the way she had hoped to do two years before.

She was too busy to think much about what was going on besides her task at hand but at night when she was alone and Leo was asleep she wondered where Draco was, hoping that somewhere, he was still alive.

I might never see him again, but please let him be alive in the world somewhere!

Leo continued to grow swiftly and change each day, much to Hermione's amazement. She loved him in a way she had never believed possible and as he grew he began to resemble his father more and more. Sometimes Hermione wondered if her companions and those in the WERA would ever make the connection.

Ginny, Neville and Luna remained true to their promises that they would never speak of who Leo's father really was, letting the others in the WERA believe what they wanted. In that way, Hermione's relationship with Draco was her secret to keep.

Hermione was also beginning to understand what Draco had meant that long-ago winter day on the way to St. David. She hadn't wanted to see it but as the weeks passed attitudes within the wizarding world were starting to change. Death Eaters were no longer feared as much as they were looked down upon and sometimes even considered abominations. There were nights that Hermione was roused from sleep by screaming and yelling in the distant neighborhoods only to find out in the morning that there had been a Death Eater or two drawn out of hiding and executed in front of crowds screaming for blood and justice.

It's about vengeance. It's about paying them back for what they've done? When will this stop?

And still she thought of Draco, hoping that he had somehow survived not only the escalating war but the prejudice.

One afternoon, only days after her promotion within the Clinic, Hermione met Ginny in downtown Cardiff to pick up a delivery from London.

Spending time with Ginny was still often uncomfortable but the two women were working through issues slowly for the sake of family and their children. After grabbing a bit to eat at a corner pub, they made their way onto the street towards the warehouse near the river on the east side of the city. Hermione spotted the poor creature first, stopping in mid-stride so that Ginny nearly bowled into her.

"Hermione, what's the-"

Ginny fell silent as her eyes traveled to the small group that had conglomerated on a corner only a block from where she and Ginny stood.

She was a young woman, although not a child and she was being pushed and shoved between the others that had surrounded her. Although they were too far away to hear the jeers that came from the crowd of people surrounding her, Hermione felt a poignant sympathy towards the unknown girl for she saw herself in the cowering form, the trembling hands and the way she was trying to protect herself from the blows and shoving.

Ginny nudged her.

"Let's go," she muttered from behind Hermione but the brunette was riveted, her eyes wide and suddenly watering from the rush of emotions that overwhelmed her.

Without turning to see if Ginny would follow, she moved towards the crowd.

"Whore!"

"Amoral cow!"

"To sleep with one of them? Death Eaters? Lower than the low?"

They were deriding her and each time they spoke one of them would give her a kick. Up close, Hermione could see the woman's terror and the tears that ran down her face as she tried to ward off the blows.

"You're nothing but a Death Eater's whore, aren't you? Sleeping with one of them to protect yourself! You disgusting pig!"

Ginny pulled insistently on Hermione's sleeve but the other woman could not get her feet to move as she watched the poor girl in the middle of the crowd.

She's just like I was!

Horrified, Hermione broke out of her stupor as one of the men spit upon the helpless, frightened woman. She turned, gripping Ginny's hand.

"They shouldn't condemn her for what she had to do!" she whispered, choking on the sudden bile that had risen up into her throat. "Don't they know? Wouldn't they understand! Surely…surely they know what she's been through!"

Ginny tried to calm Hermione but it seemed a futile effort as the curly-haired brunette repeatedly pulled away from Ginny to try and get closer to the crowd. The red-head followed helplessly, flashes of her time at the alienage assaulting her. Hermione had always been the one to help people, even when it had been hopeless. It was her nature.

As Hermione studied the crowd she realized that not one of them bore the Mark. These weren't Death Eaters; they were her own people! They were people condemning one of their own for things she had done during the most desperate times of her life! White-hot rage filled the pit of Hermione's belly and resonated through every inch of her so within seconds she was trembling with it.

"They're hateful!" she spat from behind tightly clenched teeth and her trembling fingers closed into fists.

"Hermione-"

"To condemn one of their own?" she said, her tone rising with her agitation.

Once more Ginny tried to soothe the raging woman at her side and Hermione began to have trouble breathing, taking in huge breaths that made her dizzy. No matter how she tried, however, it was as if her lungs could not get enough air and she began to gasp.

"One of their own!" she repeated, the sound choked.

Ginny put her arm around Hermione, her face drawn with tension as she looked from the angry crowd to her broken and bewildered friend.

"Come on, Hermione. We should go. This isn't good."

"No, we can't just let her be abused like that!" she cried out pulling away from Ginny and then moving towards the crowed without hesitation.

"STOP!"

The sound made them turn, all angry, confused faces.

"Don't be sticking your nose were it doesn't belong, girl!"

Hermione wasn't even sure who had spoken for her heart was pounding in her ears so loudly it blocked out all other sound. She only knew that the poor girl had stopped and scurried into a dirty corner when her abusers had stopped attacking her.

"I won't stand by and watch as you tear a poor girl apart for something she couldn't help!"

They sneered at her.

"And what do you know? She lay with a Death Eater! She slept with the vile enemy! She's not one of us!"

Hermione's eyes widened in horror but she was determined to remain strong in her convictions and to not think about her own past. She would never be sorry for the things she had done.

"Won't you let the past go?"

"It's because of them that we're fighting this war!" someone else called out.

There was a resonating agreement that ran through the crowd that was now entirely focused on the small brunette who stuck out her chin with determination.

"And none of you are helping things by fighting amongst yourselves! She is one of our own!"

"She's an abomination! Nothing but a whore!"

Hermione's face flushed crimson.

"She's no less human than you! How dare any of you judge her?" she cried out, stepping into the crowd to separate them from the cowering woman. "Leave now or I'll call law enforcement."

One of the men at the head of the crowd laughed at her.

"You can't do that, love. This is a peaceful protest," he drawled.

A woman stepped up next to him.

"That's right; it's a peaceful protest to rid the streets of our city from nasty vermin."

Hurt and increasingly bewildered at the callousness of the people around her, Hermione struggled not to attack the people around her, to claw their eyes out in her frustration, even though it was difficult. Fingers of pain from her past enveloped her heart, squeezing tightly. She had been in the same position two years before, only then, no one had publicly condemned her for it. It was bad enough having to deal with Death Eaters, let alone the condemnation of those just like her!

Hermione didn't know what to do, only that it wasn't fair! How could people be so cruel? Hadn't they learned anything? Taking deep breaths, she turned, trying to find Ginny in the crowd and spotted her standing on the fray just as Seamus pushed his way into the throng.

"Sure you heard her, didn't ya?"

His voice broke over the angry din making some spin around to look at the newcomer. He was standing straight and tall, glaring at everyone, his cheeks flushed.

"Get on with ya! Dontcha be havin' more productive things to do?"

"Call law enforcement, my arse!" yelled an older man in the crowd. "Leave us alone to do what we have to do!"

Hermione recognized him as the owner of the pawn shop she had sold her wedding ring and necklace at. At least she knew now she would no longer patronize such an establishment. Seamus grew more passionate.

"If I were mad I would!"

"Bugger off!"

"I'm not joking, to be sure!"

"I'll be going to the Ministry about this, see if I don't! I won't have some Irishman telling me what I can and cannot do on my own streets!"

Seamus waved his arm.

"Go then, tell your Ministry!" he spat. "I hate the Death Eaters just as much as you do but that's no reason to go after an innocent woman!"

The crowd dispersed though not before offering the unnamed woman a few more swift kicks and jeers. When it was quiet, Hermione rushed to the woman's side but she, being horrified, pushed her away and dashed into the shadowy alley and disappeared, leaving Hermione shocked and drained of all emotion.

She didn't even remember the rest of the walk home.

Dinner later that evening was a tense, awkward affair. Ginny and Seamus were troubled by what had happened earlier and Hermione had retreated further from her friends and family than she had ever done since coming to Cardiff. It left Dean, Neville and some of the others from the WERA a bit uncomfortable as they all tried to enjoy a supper around the huge table.

Luna's twins, Ginny's three children and Leo's laughter were the only things that helped to ease the heaviness that lay between the adults at the table. Ginny's children, even James, were mostly unaware of the changes that were happening all around them. And Leo was still only a baby; he was innocence personified.

It was this, her son, which Hermione clung to. She couldn't look at the others in the room, afraid that Seamus might discover all her secrets simply by gazing at her. After all, he knew about her working for Draco, didn't he? He didn't know that sex had been involved but she wondered how he would react if he knew. Would he be any better than those people on the streets? Would she be condemned for the things she had been forced to do in her desperation?

"Dis," said Leo picking up a small quarter of potato and bringing it up to Hermione's mouth. "Ummy."

Hermione offered Leo a weak smile and took the potato, making a show of eating it with enthusiasm. Her little boy's gray eyes sparkled with happiness and then he shakily speared a carrot onto his fork.

"Dis?"

She laughed and glanced up at the others at the table.

"He's eating by himself?"

Neville seemed to relax when the silence was broken and he grinned with pride.

"We've been practicing for days now. He's getting quite good. Aren't you?" he said glancing down at Leo who beamed a huge, proud smile.

"I eat, Nevow!" he said, calling Neville by name.

The others melted at the baby's actions and the tension seemed to abate a bit.

It did not last however, for Dean brought up the war – the one subject Hermione had begun to loathe. He had just returned from the fighting once again to pick up a shipment of supplies from the eastern storehouse.

"She's bloody relentless! We've lost at least a hundred this month, no less than two dozen to the killing curse."

As Hermione fed her son she carefully refused to look at those engaged in talk of war. They were speaking of the brutal battles between Bellatrix and Blaise Zabini.

"And I keep telling Zabini that there are just not enough of us and we should lay low for awhile, at least until…"

"I've got extra beds now and plenty of people to help," Neville was saying.

"Still, its bloody sick of fighting I am."

Seamus' statement rendered in a silence that was filled with Leo's babbling and the children's chatter and giggles. Soon enough someone started up once again about how the war would never have been going on if not for the Death Eaters. And then Hermione grew tenser and tenser as Dean's conversation shifted towards how none of those with the Mark deserved to live and that Zabini's belief in eradication seemed the right way to go.

Hermione finally snapped.

"If you all cared so much for ending this war, none of you would be speaking like this!"

Dean stared, his dark brows furrowing.

"You're joking, aren't you, Hermione?"

Her face had gone pale and her eyes glittered menacingly.

"You think I am?"

She sat up straighter.

"Listen to yourself, Dean! What happened to you? What happened to compassion? The disgusting display of hatred I witnessed today makes me realize that none of you know what it's like to feel the way I've felt!"

She stared at the group in front of her even the children having gone silent, as if knowing that the situation had gone dire. Seamus was the first to respond.

"We're fighting for you, we are. You should know that. They won't be stoppin' until we're dead, Hermione. Sure, can't let them do that!"

Hermione could feel the disbelief and disappointment in his voice but Dean was not nearly as subtle.

"I realize what you've gone through but shouldn't you be more grateful? It's only because of the WERA, because of Zabini that we're where we are! The Muggle-borns and half-bloods have gotten their wands back! We're winning the war! Why show compassion to those who showed you none for so long?"

Hermione stared, stricken for a moment before she realized that the others didn't know the secret she was hiding. Would they understand that the only reason she was with them was because of a man whom they were so quick to condemn? Would they understand how she loved him and how her son was a product of that love? It terrified Hermione; it was the first time she had been truly scared in a long time. When she gazed into the faces of those closest to her she didn't see anything but stubbornness and frustration.

"Because they're human beings!" she shot back defensively. "Shall we punish them all because of one deranged man?"

Dean offered a sound of disgust, pushing his plate away.

"I can't believe you'd say that. After everything they've put you through! What about that disgusting alienage? What about Pansy Parkinson and the things she did to you?"

Hermione winced. Would they mock her if she told them that Pansy had been forgiven years ago? The same woman who had tried to kill her had also saved her. Taking a deep breath, Hermione nodded.

"I haven't forgotten, Dean," she replied in a calm tone, her eyes hot and dry. "But I've also forgiven her. It's the only way."

They others in the room stared at her. Ginny and Neville, who knew the truth, were staring down into their laps. The tension was so think it could have been cut with a knife.

Dean finally broke it.

"It's all well and good that you've done that, Hermione. But not everyone will. You'll come to find that sometimes forgiveness is hard. Sometimes it's damn near impossible."

Then he walked away from the table stiffly, leaving the others behind.

Hermione didn't realize it, but Dean's words were the premonition of a bleak and difficult future. She scooped Leo into her arms and then excused herself, needing to be alone. Quickly, she moved towards the front door of the flat, taking the steps almost two at a time until she burst into the darkened courtyard, breathing in gulps of early autumn air.

As she glanced up at the star-studded sky she realized that she was still very much alone.