"Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know." - Ernest Hemingway

Chapter Thirty-one: My Life Inside Your Heart

Draco returned from the grocery with an assortment of fruit, cheese, crackers, and pastries, as well as a small box of tea bags. They now definitely had enough food to last for a few days, though Draco intended on stuffing his face.

Hermione was laying down on the bed, petting Loki on the head; she sat up when she heard Draco enter. Her nose picked up on the sweet baked smell of pastries almost immediately; she could smell the tea next, and just a hint of the oranges.

Draco smirked. "You look like a cat when you do that."

Hermione faltered. She did indeed look like a cat, what with the way she was sniffing the air and leaning toward him on all fours.

He magicked the table over to them, on which he proceeded to lay out a few pastries. Hermione took one as soon as she could, taking small bites out of it.

Draco then turned the pillow he was leaning against into a cup - oh, he'd done a bad job on that, the cup was lumpy - and got up to make the tea.

"I spent nearly the last of the money. And then some." He smirked. "That's why wizards have biting wallets."

Hermione shook her head and searched for another pastry. She was probably going to have a stomach ache later, but at the moment she didn't care. She hadn't had a pastry in months.

They ate in silence, Draco occasionally handing something edible to Hermione or combing his fingers through her damp hair. By the time they realized they were full, they had plowed through all the pastries, most of the fruit, and an entire box of crackers. Draco transfigured Hermione's lumpy teacup into a small cardboard box, where he put the remainder of the food.

Hermione didn't think she'd had a better meal in her life; she smiled and laid back on the bed and listened to Draco put away the food and set a cooling charm on the box. He then pulled her against him and lied back against the remaining pillows, pulling a leg over his own and trailing his fingers over it.

Hermione smiled, a light blush still covering her cheeks at how carried away they had gotten earlier… but here was something that had been bugging her for a while. She had been thinking about the end, again, the eventuality of them being separated by a holding cell, or a small wooden fence and a Ministry bench. And then she thought… surely he knew, even in the beginning, how difficult it would be to lead a normal life after everything. There were laws that had to be upheld, and people that needed to see him fall.

Why did he choose her? To change himself? What was in all of this for him?

She liked to think that love - or whatever it was between them - certainly made a reason to change… but somehow it did not seem good enough in Hermione's mind.

"Why… why are you doing this?"

She wasn't talking about the increased attention he was paying to her physically; she wasn't even talking about their "mission."

Draco didn't answer; he continued to rub small circles in the back of her thigh.

"Draco? Why aren't you still with the Death Eaters? Why aren't you… the same?"

He frowned. "I wanted out. I've always wanted out. Of everything."

Hermione didn't really like the sound of that. She snuggled closer to him, feeling her heart reach out to him a bit. No one should ever have to feel like that. "Is that what this is? A way out?"

He shrugged, trying to concentrate on the movements of his fingers. "Perhaps."

He could feel her dissatisfaction with this answer; she let out a small noise of concern and furrowed her brow.

"I knew I could just get out of it… without destroying it, as hard as getting out was. But my mind wouldn't let me. It's what happens when you hate something so much."

Hermione's head tilted to the side a bit. "But in the end, its not satisfying to just destroy something. Having that intellectual upper hand, and knowing that the other person sees the error of his ways and regrets them… that is where the satisfaction comes from."

Draco raised an eyebrow and moved so he could look down at her. He had scarcely thought that Hermione could think about such things. Of course, he should have assumed that she would intellectually dissect emotions, but… there was a creepy edge to her voice. He could now picture her smiling maliciously as she exacted revenge on someone. "How do you know about hate and revenge?"

Hermione knew he was not being condescending. "Trust me… I know. I've hated. Very strongly."

He briefly wondered if at any time he'd been on that list of people she hated.

"Remind me not to piss you off."

Her mouth quirked into a small smile. "It takes more than that to get me to hate someone."

"What does it take?"

Her fingers found the edge of her dress and began to pick at it. "It takes… blindness. To one's own actions and their consequences. And then an impossibility of reparations in the end."

"You must hate a lot of people."

"I try not to hate people. I hate actions and I hate certain ideas, but I can't always blame someone for believing in something. It's when someone knows it's wrong and doesn't care… that's about when I want to wring their neck."

Draco nodded slowly, settling back against the pillows at their back. "For the record, I always knew it was wrong. And I did care. I just wasn't strong enough to find a way out, or figure some other way to make things easier."

"But you found the will to escape, back in June."

"I got lucky," he scoffed.

She shook her head. "While we are on the subject," Hermione said, shifting so that she was sitting up a little more, and thus forcing Draco to remove his hand from her leg, "how did you escape the first time?"

"It was difficult, but at the same time… surprisingly easy." He ran a hand through his hair. "Instead of keeping prisoners in some dungeon with only one person guarding them, as is the norm, Master put a cage in the middle of the dining hall, with the dinner table surrounding it. That way, there was almost always someone in the room, whether they are standing around having a chat or eating."

"Ingenious, albeit slightly morbid," Hermione commented quietly. "That alone makes it near impossible to escape."

"Yes," he continued, "except for the fact that when meetings are called, everyone is required to be present. And meetings are not held in the dining hall… it was almost taboo to discuss work over the dinner table. So during a meeting, I slipped around the edge of the anti-magic barrier and broke through the wards on the cage. Then I just had to walk to the exit."

"I can't imagine breaking through the wards was an easy task, especially without a wand."

He shook his head. "That wasn't the hardest part however; it became difficult the second I left the compound. Once the alarms are raised… there are people everywhere. I spent a good week running on foot from Death Eaters, and if it weren't for a muggle trucker passing through Calgary on his way to Alaska, I wouldn't have made it out.

"I got a car in Whitehorse and drove the rest of the way into Alaska… there were times when I could see Death Eaters flying on brooms above my head, and I had to apparate with the entire car once… that's not something I want to do again. But once I got to Anchorage, I stayed for a bit before taking an illegal portkey into England, around the time Krokesh and Rubinoff were assigned to capture you.

"I know them well; they like to bide their time for the perfect opportunity. So I followed you, knowing that they were likely to not be far behind. When I spotted them, a few days before your trip to Edinburgh, I focused on them."

"And then you kidnapped me," Hermione finished.

Draco scowled. He'd forgotten about his part in screwing up her life. "Yes. I did. Sorry about that."

"It's okay… if you hadn't, I'd be dead or worse. And no one would suspect anything, if Master is as diabolical as she sounds. She will have thought of all of that."

"She does think of everything." Suddenly there was an itch at the back of Draco's mind; he grasped at it, narrowing his eyes… no, it was gone. He'd tried time and time again to break through the barrier No Name had put on his mind, keeping him from realizing her identity. It was like… he knew who she was, but just couldn't remember.

"We aren't prepared," Hermione murmured. "We should have spent the last few weeks training for this."

"My plan is that it never comes to a full fight. Remember, I said their weakness was the fact that without Master, they turn into a bunch of confused and suspicious idiots. Master has tried her best to have this not be the case - unlike the Dark Lord, she values intelligence over loyalty, figuring that loyalty can be bought. But… it's too soon for that to have completely come into effect.

"Also, she specifically told them who ranks above who, but doesn't realize that when she's present, everyone's all friendly and whatnot, but if she were to die, or become incapacitated, there would be a great power struggle. Her intention was to model the Death Eaters after the Mongols, who apparently sectioned their army so that each person in power was responsible for ten soldiers, or ten commanders, or generals."

"She's probably about as smart as Chinggis, but couldn't say the same for her underlings."

Draco smiled. He had forgotten that she knew of Muggle history. "Correct."

Hermione sighed. "We should still practice. Just… tell me about some spells you know, some spells I should expect to be sent my way, and then I'll tell you some spells I've found."

Was she serious? "Granger, I - "

"You want to win, correct? We're going to need the confidence, the knowledge, and the strength to go in there, bugles blaring and everything to lose. That is how wars are won - when you have the guns and the brains and confidence to back it up."

Suddenly she could feel him moving over her, and before long she felt him kiss her on the neck.

"Um… oi! Hey, we need to practice!" she mumbled, putting her hands against his chest but not actually pushing him away.

"You said we need to practice… and we will. But first, I need to kiss you. All this talk about war and strategy has me hot and bothered."

Hermione made a surprised noise in the back of her mouth before she turned her head to the side to allow him better access. A grin filled her face up, and Draco was momentarily dazzled by the openly happy expression she was sporting, as well as the sudden coloring in her cheeks.

"I think talk of war has me all hot and bothered as well."

He smirked. She really was more devious than she looked.

"How did she even get in here? How did she even… pass all the wards on your door, all the wards around the entire Ministry?"

"I don't know," Nora replied, watching Kingsley as he moved magical instruments around the room to try to detect any sort of evidence left behind by the intruder. "All I know is that she took the papers. On Malfoy's location."

Harry put his head in his hands. How had No Name known to strike today, of all days? It was unreal.

"We all have to keep our eyes and ears open now," Kingsley commented, watching the orb he was holding with great intensity. He relaxed and shook his head. "I think we need to get the muggle liaison in here, so we can get some muggle equipment. The orbs aren't picking up anything."

"Shit," Harry said lowly. "This is getting ridiculous. We need to find their hideout. So we can put a stop to all this crap."

"We will. But for now, the Auror team we set up for tonight needs to be owled before they come trooping up here and drawing attention to this mess."

Harry looked over. "You don't seemed surprised by any of this, Nora."

She shook her head. "I'm numb to all of it. Otherwise, I'd throw that desk straight down the hall." She did look very angry, even with that controlled expression on her face. Harry had seen her duel - he did not want to be anywhere near her if she decided to explode.

"I need some coffee," Nora sighed, faltering, and left the room.

Kingsley waited until he heard the elevator doors open on the other end of the hall before he spoke. "Something isn't right. The only thing that the orbs are detecting are her presence and your presence. Unless one of us put the mask there and stole the files, No Name is just really that good."

Harry shook his head. His brain was adding things up that he didn't want it to add up. How he and the Death Eaters had managed to know that Hermione and Malfoy were in Bergen and arrive there at the same time; how No Name had even known that they'd had documentation of the mobile phone trace they'd performed on Malfoy's mobile.

They'd been so careful to keep this entire investigation as small as possible to eliminate the possibility of a leak… there were only five people who knew explicit details of the investigation: Jesse Worthington, Kingsley, Ron, Nora, and himself.

No. Harry forced himself to stop thinking like that; internal conflict would only make their efforts weaker. "I guess we'll have to wait to see if the muggles find anything."

"Name: Mason Bernard Constable.

Birth date: April 4th, 1971.

Death date: January 22nd, 1998.

Cause: spell damage."

"Spell damage" is what they put if they can't tell what spell killed you. If you were so torn apart by magic that it is unclear as to which spells were even used.

Nora shook her head and looked over at the leather-bound record book Harry had stolen.

"Parole degree: guided house arrest.

Current status: active.

Release date: September 1st, 1998."

Yesterday.

"Are we still on for tonight then? Even after what has happened?"

Nora grimaced, putting the death records into the book to mark the page and putting it back into her briefcase. "We have no choice now. It's getting way out of control; at least with Malfoy and Hermione in custody, we could have more time to organize ourselves and make sure we succeed."

Harry nodded and scratched at his old scar briefly.

"Unfortunately, they are probably miles and miles away from the point we traced them at, but it's close enough to warrant a search team. I had Schuster assemble you some Auror gear; it should be in the equipment room. Tell them they are clear to suit up, and I'll register a portkey through Internal Affairs."

"Alright. See you downstairs."

Nora paused. "Wait."

Harry turned back around.

"I… I kind of don't want to leave this floor without someone we trust on it. Can you ask Ronald to stay here and keep an eye out? Keep Jesse company as well. If this turns into a shit-fest, they will only be a portkey away."

Harry swallowed, his face hardening. Ron was not going to like that at all; he'd been unusually excited about being part of the search team. "I'll let him know."

"Draco! Wake up!"

He opened his eyes, his thrashing movements ceasing. He looked questioningly at Hermione, his brain fuzzy and his stomach sick.

"You were having a bad dream," she said, her voice shaking. Her black eyes looked huge and empty in worry.

He nodded numbly, trying to think about his dream. He could feel it fading slowly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It was… she was trying to get into my brain. I was trying not to let her. Potter was there… and there was something about… a prophecy. No, it's gone," he sighed.

"A prophecy? Like the one - " Hermione stopped herself. People weren't supposed to know about that. "Like the ones in the Department of Mysteries?"

"Yes. Though… Master looked livid. I'm guessing it did not help her."

Hermione shivered. She had felt so bad for Harry, knowing that he'd had that prophecy hanging over his head. She did not want to have one hanging over hers.

Draco put his head in his hands. "I was hoping that this wouldn't happen."

Hermione shook her head and reached toward his voice, her hand finding his shoulder. "It was just a nightmare. They happen when you're under stress, as we definitely are."

He nodded, but his eyes remained blank. He knew Master better than that - her methods were very distinct. For all they knew, Master was hovering outside of their door.

"Do you remember the setting?"

"We… were in the forest. It looked like the ones in England. And it was kind of light, in a dawn sort of way."

Hermione nodded, trying to decipher the meaning of these things. Despite her disliking for Divination, she definitely saw the charm in dream psychology. "It may be stemming from fears you have."

"I don't fancy prophesies. Or Master, or Potter for that matter."

"and since it was in an English forest - "

"Probably..."

" - maybe you were fearing what would have happened if we had been caught early on?"

Draco's breath stopped. He had thought about that. He would have been just another Death Eater, another criminal to both Hermione and the Ministry. And to the Death Eaters, he was traitorous scum and thus not worth keeping around. And to top it off, he and Hermione would never had realized what could become of them… what could have happened.

It was death any way he looked at it.

"Yes," he answered her. "I want to think that's what it was about."

Hermione attempted to smile reassuringly, and moved closer to him, her hand still on his shoulder. "Since we're awake, why don't we practice. At least then, we won't be so afraid."

He looked at her, wondering if he had ever really appreciated the effect she had on him. Her careful smile instantly lifted him. He looked into her eyes; despite their darkness, they now seemed to sparkle a bit.

"Alright, Goody Gryffindor. Let's see what you've got."

Author's note: Yes, I actually updated within a two week period! I'm eager to get to the good stuff.

So, a question to the readers... how do you think the story will end? Write what you think in a review. I'm curious to see where you guys think this is going!