26  Cryptic Messages

Hermione walked into the Slytherin common room and tried not to think. The room was decorated much like the Gryffindor common room—same style sofas, chairs, and tables, but all in green with silver trim. The lack of windows and natural light was disturbing.

She heard him shuffling in the other room and tried not to think about him getting dressed. She wondered if he had even worn anything to bed. The thought made her feel hot and panicky.

Don't think about it, she ordered herself, don't even start.

He sauntered out and she felt her heart leap into her throat. She shut her eyes and pictured a cold mountain lake. Edged in ice. With snowflakes falling. She took a deep, steadying breath.

"Feeling all right?" he asked casually. His sardonic tone actually helped calm her nerves.

"Never better," she said brightly and smiled sweetly at him. He gave her a measuring look and then shrugged. Her eyes skimmed over him quickly, taking in his white shirt—unbuttoned halfway down his chest, damn him; black pants, and usual black boots. He noticed her gaze and grinned ruefully.

"It seems I'm stuck with school clothes, too. Maybe we should go shopping."

"I could Transfigure something for us. I just wasn't in the mood this morning."

"Shopping is more fun," he insisted.

"You want to go shopping?" she asked derisively. "With me?"

"Absolutely. Lingerie, first."

She clenched her jaw in annoyance. Not even five minutes and he had her blushing scarlet again.

"That will be the end of that conversation," she decided. He laughed.

"All right, Granger. I'll stop 'tormenting' you. What did you and Potter find out?"

She was relieved—and a bit disappointed, though she shoved that thought aside angrily—that he was willing to move on to business. She watched him as he walked to the huge fireplace and examined his reflection in a small mirror propped on the mantle. His silver-blonde hair was perfect, as usual. He moved with a stunning grace that made her ache just to watch him. She turned away quickly, wishing she had never come down here. What had possessed her to seek out the wolf in his den?

She put a shaking hand to her hair and winced when she touched the tender spot on her head where she had torn her locks free. She glanced at him again and he turned to look at her with that maddening grin of his. Simply put, she had wanted to see him. She had rationalized that she wanted to question him about their trip to Snape's house, but in all honesty, it wasn't true. If she were completely candid with herself, she had been half-hoping what had happened would happen. She blushed, recalling his hands in her hair, his demanding mouth on hers, his—

"Over-analyzing again, Granger?" Draco asked dryly. She stared at him in surprise. How could he know her so well already?

"No," she said pertly. "I was thinking about the book." Her gaze dared him to say anything about lying.

"Really? I didn't realize secrets of immortality were such a racy subject. That's quite a pretty blush you've got there."

The blush darkened, to her chagrin. She had to stop thinking about him! He had only kissed her to prove a point. To show her that he could be utterly irresistible when he chose. To prove that raw passion could override common sense and every other rational thought… God, she was doing it again.

"I was not over-analyzing. I was merely thinking," she snapped. He was moving toward her, so she quickly walked to put the couch between them. She didn't dare get too close to him. He laughed.

"I'm not going to pounce on you."

She ignored that and remembered the question he had asked long minutes ago.

"The book is difficult to read. I know there is a spell to diminish the effects of the wavering text, but I have no idea what it is."

"I do."

She nodded. It was probably taught to Malfoys as soon as they learned to read.

"We deciphered a bit of it, though. It references something called the Sons of Horus. Have you ever heard of them?"

He began to casually stalk her around the sofa. She pretended not to notice, but she drifted sideways to keep the large piece of furniture between them. She tried to shake off the image of a hunting panther, but his grey eyes were gleaming mischievously.

"No."

"It also says to make an offering to Shu."

Draco stopped. "Shu? Now, that sounds familiar. Where have I heard that before?"

"It's most likely Egyptian. Some sort of god, I assume, since it requires an offering."

Draco's brow wrinkled in thought, but he started moving again, quickly this time. She gave up all pretenses and bolted behind the couch.

"Will you keep still?" she demanded. He chuckled.

"Why are you running from me? Are you afraid I'll kiss you again?"

God, yes! She shook her head, knowing if she spoke aloud he would see right through her lie.

"If I promise not to try to kiss you, will you stay there?" he asked. She looked at him through narrowed eyes, searching for a trick, but she couldn't see a downside.

"Yes," she said shortly. Surprisingly, he didn't smirk at her. She held her ground, barely, as he rounded the sofa and stood before her. She realized her mistake immediately. He didn't even need to touch her. His nearness was enough to send warning bells jangling through every nerve ending. The masculine scent of him filled her senses and she shut her eyes tightly, trying to think of anything else but her ridiculous urge to wrap her arms around his neck…

"Isn't this better?" he asked. "It's so much easier to talk without a huge gap between us."

Talk. Yes. She opened her eyes and swallowed hard. He had reduced the gap, for certain. He stood so close to her if she leaned forward a bit, she would be pressed up against him. Almost, she stepped back, but her Gryffindor pride suddenly reared its head and she raised her chin stubbornly.

Her resolve lasted all of six seconds, until he reached up and touched her hair gently with both hands. His thumbs massaged her head where the hair had been pulled.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked softly. She noted with alarm that she was forgetting to breathe and pulled in a shaky breath.

"No," she whispered. The word was both a response and a request. He smiled down at her and her eyes slid over his features. He was so beautiful. Pale and smooth as porcelain. She dug her fingernails into her palms to fight the urge to reach up and caress the even line of his jaw.

His hands suddenly became brisk in her hair. He tugged and twisted it in a businesslike manner.

"You're a mess," he said. "We'd better fix you up a bit or Weasley will suspect you've been rolling around in the sack with me." She glared at him when he laughed and continued, "Of course, he'd be right, for once."

"Can we just go?" she asked sharply. The thought of Ron had assaulted her with guilt. Draco sighed.

"If you insist."

He stepped away from her and drew on the black cloak that had been tossed upon the back of the sofa. In the same motion, he seemed to pull an invisible curtain about himself. His armor, she knew. She had figured it out in Hagrid's hut, why Draco was so different when he was alone with her. The wall of ice, disdain, and sarcasm was missing. Since Dover, it had slowly melted away, exposing the real Draco—the human, vulnerable Draco that he kept under such tight control. The one that refused to let anyone get close enough to hurt him.

He looked at her seriously.

"I need to send a message to my parents. I've been thinking about it since the lie we concocted yesterday. It won't be easy, but it can be done. I'll need your help."

Hermione nodded.

"I'll ask them where Regulus Black died. We'll do it tonight. Here, if you aren't afraid to be alone with me again."

"I'm not afraid of you," she said adamantly.

He laughed in what sounded like sheer delight. "Liar. Let's go have a look at that book." He gestured fluidly toward the exit and she gratefully went.

Ron was in the library with Harry when they entered and he shot a suspicious glare at them both.

"Any luck?" she asked. Harry shook his head.

"You were right. Not much of anything Egyptian in this place."

"That's just great. By the time we figure out what the Sons of Horus are, we may have collected all the Horcruxes. With no idea how to destroy them."

"Sons of Horus?" Ron asked. "I know what they are."

Three pairs of astonished eyes turned to him.

"Why is that such a bloody surprise?" he demanded. "I went to Egypt with my parents, remember? The Sons of Horus are the jars they use for the body parts in the tomb. They are supposed to protect the entrails on the Pharoah's journey to the afterlife."

Hermione gasped. "The Canopic Jars!"

Ron nodded. "That's it. Canopic. They were placed at the four corners—north, south, east, and west."

"I just remembered who Shu is," Draco said quietly. Hermione looked at him. "The god of wind, sunlight… and protection."

Hermione hurried to look over Harry's shoulder at the book.

"I think I know what it means!" she said happily. "The Sons of Horus is a reference to the four quarters! An offering to Shu…it's a circle of protection." She shook her head. "This is heavy. No simple spell; this is ritual magic. Ancient and powerful."

"The same magic used to create the damned thing," Draco said.

Hermione looked at Harry shrewdly. "Didn't Dumbledore say he destroyed the ring alone?"

Harry nodded. She continued, "I'll bet he dispensed with the ritual and tried to destroy it himself. He told you not to make the same mistake. We'd better do it correctly. None of us wants a withered hand—or worse. I wish we could find some information on the names of the Sons of Horus. It would be nice to do this according to the book, but we may have to improvise. Harry, get me whatever you can find on casting a circle, since none of us has ever done it before—"

"I have," Draco said nonchalantly.

"I don't even want to know why. Fine, then Malfoy can look for that information. Try to remember, this will be white magic, not the Dark Arts. Protection is the key word. You might also read the Horcrux section in the book. Maybe you can find something we missed. Harry, you find a way to invoke the elements. There are dozens of spells, so I'm certain you can find one that's appropriate. Ron, we need to find a place to do this. Somewhere we won't be interrupted. I suggest we do it at midnight. No one will be looking for us and the time seems appropriate. I'll start gathering some of the items we'll need, from what I can remember. If you find anything else we have to have, we can collect it later."

There was no argument, so she smiled and went out. It felt good to be doing something, rather than sitting around blindly searching for information. The weather was calm again, as she discovered when she headed for the greenhouse. The storm had blown itself out, leaving everything clean and wet. The sky was cloudless.

Inside the greenhouse, she took a basket from near the door and used her wand to cut sprigs of various plants: Angelica, basil, horehound, mistletoe, and nettles. She would stop by Snape's former storeroom to pick up myrrh and frankincense. At least they didn't have to sneak into there any longer. She hurried back inside and stored everything safely in the Gryffindor common room. She was surprised when the coin warmed on her chest and she looked at it quickly.

We're in the Great Hall. Your werewolf friend popped in and invited us for lunch. Ordered us to lunch, I should say.

Thanks. I'll be right there.

Lupin was probably wondering what they were all up to. He had to know they wouldn't be sitting idly around waiting for something to happen. She checked her watch. They had a full afternoon to prepare for the ritual, plus she needed to help Draco contact his parents.

Moody was having another tirade when she arrived. Apparently, he had just returned from Malfoy Manor and he was not pleased. In fact, he was yelling in Draco's face.

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater, I say!" he bellowed. "Now, where did they go, boy? I can cast a Cruciatus just as well as your ilk!"

Draco's eyes were frigid. He and Moody faced each other across a hand span's distance.

"Do it," Draco dared. Moody's wand jerked upward and pressed into Draco's chin with a snap. Malfoy's jaw clenched, but he gave no other sign of emotion. Hermione ran forward, but Lupin got to them first. He grabbed Moody's wand hand.

"Stop it, Alastor! Leave him be!"

"You're shielding Death Eaters now, Remus?" Moody snarled.

"He's no Death Eater and it's not his fault that they have moved on. You should have known that would happen the moment they pulled Neville out. We have the Carrows in custody because of Draco."

Moody's false eye swiveled in Lupin's direction.

"The Carrows?"

"Draco and Ron captured them at Snape's house last night."

Moody lowered his wand, but looked at Draco coldly.

"I'm watching you, boy. You'd better keep your nose clean."

Draco sneered, an expression Hermione hadn't seen in so long it nearly looked out of place. Moody moved off, peppering Lupin with questions about interrogating Amycus and Alecto. Hermione put a hand on Draco's arm.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Apparently, Voldemort has vacated my house. Your barmy friend is a bit upset."

"Do you know where they might have gone?"

"No idea."

She nodded. "It doesn't matter. Let the Order locate them. We have our own business to attend to."

Draco returned to his seat and Hermione sat next to him, across from Harry, who looked at her, but made no comment. She snapped her fingers.

"Salt. We need salt."

Harry passed her a salt cellar, but she shook her head. "For tonight. A lot of it."

"I'll stop by the kitchen on the way out. Here's Ron."

Ron sat down next to Hermione and grinned at her. He ignored Draco completely.

"I think I know where we can do this," he murmured as he put a slab of bread on his plate and topped it with a selection of meats and cheeses. "Harry gave me the idea when he told me about one of the Pensieve memories. Remember that chamber where they hid the Stone? The one accessed by the trapdoor on the third floor?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course. It's perfect."

"I checked it out. It's empty now and there are no bloody traps on the way like Devil's Snare or life-sized chess pieces. I don't think anyone's used it, since. It's pretty dusty."

"Add a broom to our list of supplies," Hermione mentioned. "A cleaning broom, not a flying broom. Anyone know where we can get holy water?"

"Sure," Harry said. "Snape's storeroom. I saw some in there, once. It's in a silver flask."

"Excellent. I was afraid that was one item we would have to do without. Plain water will work, but holy water is better. Did you two have any luck?" she asked, looking at Harry and Draco. Harry shook his head.

"Lupin came in shortly after you left. I was still hunting for the right book."

Draco grinned. "I don't need a book. I already know how to cast a circle. And invoke the elements, although I agree you may want to get more specific with this one. Don't forget the offering to Shu. I recommend the usual: bread, beer, beef, and fowl. Perhaps oil. And fine linen for an altar cloth. And an altar, of course."

"Where will we find fine linen?" Ron asked.

"The Staff Room. They have a stockpile in a cabinet there," Draco mentioned.

"How do you… never mind. I'll take your word for it. Harry, you get the salt and find that incantation. Malfoy can grab the linen, since he's familiar with the Staff Room. I'll go back and get the holy water from Snape's supplies. Ron, go with Harry and pick up the food items."

She noticed Tonks shooting them a glance now and again from where she sat next to McGonagall and Lupin.

"They're getting suspicious," she mentioned quietly. "They don't trust us after Ron and Malfoy's little trip."

"Well, they seem to expect me to sneak off and confront Voldemort at any moment. Not that we even know where he is."

"It's rather useless to confront him until we destroy the Trinkets, anyway. The only legitimate purpose we have at Hogwarts is the Pensieve. They probably wonder why we're spending so much time in the library. If they think we're up to something, they might try to ship Harry back to Headquarters."

Harry laughed shortly. "I definitely don' t want to go back there. Especially with the Dursleys in residence. I wonder how that is going."

"Maybe you should ask."

"I really don't care," Harry said coolly. She decided not to push the issue. After all, she hadn't even checked up on her own parents, and she loved them. She made a mental note to do so, however.

"I think we should all go spend some time with Harry and the Pensieve. We can swing by the library and grab the books we need—be certain to get a good assortment so they don't know what we're looking for if they decide to snoop."

"You're pretty good at this underhanded business," Draco said admiringly. "I never would have guessed Gryffindors could be so sneaky."

"We've had a lot of practice," she said dryly with a look at Harry, who laughed.

"We've been quite aboveboard, lately," he protested. "I haven't pulled out the Invisibility Cloak since we've been here."

"Keep it handy," Hermione advised. "We might need it tonight."

When Ron finished eating, they trooped up to the library and then to Dumbledore's old office.

"All right, are you coming with me, Hermione?" Harry asked hopefully after he dumped the vial contents into the basin.

"Yes." She looked sharply at Ron and Draco. "Don't kill each other."

Dumbledore was in Snape's office again. Snape had a glass of amber liquid on the desk before him and he looked shaken.

"You wouldn't really have let them perform the dementor's kiss on Sirius, would you? Can you possibly hate him that much?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Snape looked tired. His hand shook when he took a drink from his glass. He set it down and sighed explosively.

"I don't know. I'd like to think not, but when I saw him again… When I heard the story about them becoming Animagi…" Snape propped his elbows on the desk and massaged his temples. "It just brought back too many memories. I hated them all so much, and to find the four of them sharing such a secret… I'm afraid I went a little mad."

"Because you were jealous?" Dumbledore asked softly. Snape's black eyes flashed viciously.

"Don't try to psychoanalyze me, Albus. I made peace with my demons long ago. I was content to see Sirius languishing in Azkaban. But, no, I don't think I could have seen him given the dementor's kiss."

"And if he was innocent all along? If the children are correct and Peter Pettigrew is alive? What then?"

Snape shrugged. "It's more than likely. I never really believed that Sirius would betray James Potter. He loved James more than his own brother." Snape's voice was bitter. "I always assumed he was under Voldemort's Imperius Curse."

"And yet you allowed him to go to Azkaban without a word of protest."

"He was safe in Azkaban," Snape hissed. "And don't try to sound holier-than-thou. You thought he was guilty, also. Did youever seek out the truth?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"I'm afraid I was also willing to believe the worst. And Pettigrew was gone. He never resurfaced."

Snape laughed harshly. "Peter Pettigrew. My God, Sirius was a trusting fool. I wouldn't trust Pettigrew with the key to my laundry chute."

"Well, Sirius is free now."

"For how long? Until Voldemort returns and hunts us all down like rabid wolves? If Sirius was correct, Voldemort will have a loyal servant again. Do you still have no fear of him regaining a body?"

"We have had no word of him since he sought the Stone. We will, of course, continue to watch." He sighed. "Lupin has resigned."

"What a pity," Snape said dryly and his eyes gleamed with amusement.

"I will have to find yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"I am willing to step into that post any time, Headmaster," Snape said. Dumbledore actually chuckled.

"I seek to teach the students to defend themselves against the Dark Arts, not embrace them."

Snape gave him a sneer. "I'm sick to death of Potions."

"But you are exceptional with them."

"Don't flatter me. I know my place."

"You are not a prisoner here."

"The hell I'm not. Now, please get out of my cell and let me drink myself into oblivion." He raised his glass. "To Sirius! May he fly to freedom and never return!"

Dumbledore got to his feet.

"I think you have already had enough drink."

"On the contrary. I have not even begun."

Dumbledore looked at him disapprovingly, shook his head, and went out.

"I don't understand all these Snape memories," Harry said when they returned. Draco and Ron were involved in a tense wizard chess match in one corner. Hermione watched them uneasily. "What is he trying to tell us?"

Hermione looked at Dumbledore's portrait. Surprisingly, he was present. His eyes twinkled at her.

"Why Snape?" she asked. "You can't ask us to trust him now, after what he did to you!"

"Well, Hermione, you must make up your own minds about that. All I may tell you is that some secrets cannot be revealed, even by death."

"You are trying to show us a secret about Snape? Something you cannot tell us directly?" Harry asked.

"Everything so far has been bloody confusing."

"And it doesn't matter, anyway, because Snape has rejoined the Death Eaters, where he belongs. He's gone back to the Dark Side, so trusting him has become a moot point. Did you leave us a single clue about Horcruxes?"

"The Horcruxes are a mystery, indeed, Harry. But of far greater import is what lies inside the human heart. It is not tokens that will decide this matter. It is the choices made by each of the players."

Hermione looked at Malfoy, who met her gaze with a slight smile before he turned his attention back to the chessboard.

Harry's hand scraped through his black hair, a sure sign of his frustration.

"Checkmate," said Draco, causing both Harry and Hermione to stare at them in surprise. Ron looked ready to spit nails.

"Ron knows about Canopic jars and Draco beats him at chess," Hermione muttered to Harry. "Are we in the right dimension?"

Harry chuckled. She sighed.

"Well, this has been another exciting Pensieve episode. I'm ready for a nap. I'll take some of these books with me," she said loudly. She gathered up several tomes. "Let's meet in the Gryffindor common room at nine. That will give us a few hours to prepare the chamber. We'll collect everything necessary after dinner."

She left the three males alone and vaguely hoped they didn't hurt each other. She went to her room and had just set the books on her bed when the Galleon heated.

I hate to bother you, but do you suppose we can concoct that message to my parents now?

What do you need me to do?

Meet me in the Slytherin common room and I'll explain.

All right.

She knew she probably shouldn't meet him alone again, but she had agreed to help him. She picked up the books and went downstairs, thankfully without running into Harry or Ron. Draco was not in the common room when she got there. She set the books on a nearby table and sat on the couch. No way would she go back to his room again.

As it turned out, he wasn't in his room. He arrived about ten minutes later and dropped a bundle of linen on the edge of the couch.

"I stopped at the Staff Room. It's deserted in the summer. It's odd that we haven't seen Peeves, either. Does a poltergeist take a holiday?"

"I doubt it. Maybe he's just used to tormenting the usual residents during the summer. Either way, I haven't missed him. How do you need my help?"

"Wait here. I'll show you."

Draco went to his room for a minute. When he returned, he carried an assortment of items. Parchment, two quills, ink, a small ceramic dish, and a small silver-handled knife. He set everything on the low table before the couch, added his wand, and sat down beside her.

"Okay, this is what I need your help with," he said earnestly. He picked up the knife by the curved blade. It looked wickedly sharp.

"I need you to draw my blood. Traditionally, a cut is made on the thumb, but that hurts like the devil for days. I prefer the wrist or arm—it bleeds more and hurts less in the long run."

She stared at him in absolute horror and ignored the knife he held out to her, hilt-first.

"What are you talking about?" she whispered.

Draco grimaced. "I'm a bit squeamish when it comes to pain. Particularly when it's self-inflicted."

"You have to draw your blood?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It's the only way to send a private message into a den of Death Eaters."

She shook her head. "No. Let's not do it, then."

"I have to. I'm sure my mother is nearly frantic with worry. I don't want her to do anything stupid just to find out what happened to me. I'll cut myself if I have to, but I'd rather not."

"Instead, you want me to slice you open?"

"You can't tell me you haven't dreamed of plunging a knife into me," he said dryly.

"I never once dreamed of plunging a knife into you! Besides, that was before…"

"Before you fell hopelessly in love with me?" he asked with a grin. She snatched the knife.

"You do have a point about the knife-plunging dream."

He rolled his white cuff back and held out his left wrist to her expectantly. She took his arm in her left hand and gripped the knife tightly in her right. She met his gaze for a moment and his silver eyes looked so appealingly trusting that her hand shook.

"I can't do it," she said after a moment. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Just try to recall one of the times you did want to hurt me. I'm sure that won't be difficult," he suggested.

She could feel his heartbeat beneath her thumb. She looked at his wrist and swallowed. His skin was so pale the veins were clearly visible. She would rather trace one with a finger than slice him open.

"Is this very dark magic?" she asked quietly and he chuckled.

"It's not dark magic at all. I just have to attune the message to those of my blood. Only my parents will be able to read it. Come on, this should be simple for a brave Gryffindor."

She shut her eyes and took a steadying breath. Just a nick. That's all it would take. She opened her eyes and laid the tip of the blade gently against a vein at the base of his palm. The knife trembled slightly.

"You know, I just don't think I can—" she began, but he jerked his arm suddenly and a red gash appeared under the blade. Hermione gasped and dropped the knife.

Draco picked up the small dish and began to collect the blood that seeped from the wound.

"Thanks, Granger," he murmured.

"That wasn't fair," she said accusingly.

"I know, but it worked."

She realized she still gripped his arm and quickly released him. She picked up the knife and cut some of the linen into strips to bind around his wrist when he finished obtaining a small pool of blood. She tied the linen for him and then watched as he alternately cast a spell on the parchment and dipped a quill into the blood. He wrote a quick message telling them he was safe and asking about Regulus Black. When he finished, he tapped the message with his wand and muttered another spell. The dark red words disappeared.

"Okay, I need you again. In your best handwriting write, in ink, over the words I just wrote. Make it sound like an advertisement. Something like 'Twillfit and Tatting's cordially invites you to a private viewing of their new fall collection.'"

"Wait, this has to be just right." Hermione grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote his words. They crossed out, added, and adjusted it until it sounded like a real invitation. She then copied it over Draco's invisible words and then he drew a stylized T copied from the tag on his cloak. She reached for the sand, but he stopped her.

"Sand can be traced," he said.

"You're joking."

"No, it's pretty simple. If even one Hogwarts grain is left on here, they can detect it. We'll let it air dry." He blew on it gently and she secretly admired the way his lips pursed. For just a moment, she imagined him blowing on her skin that way and immediately regretted it when a blush heated her cheeks. Thankfully, he didn't notice. They sealed the tiny scroll with a piece of black ribbon Draco located.

They took a roundabout route to the Owlery in order to avoid detection. Draco tucked the scroll into the carrier on a school owl's leg.

"Take this to Narcissa Malfoy," he ordered and released the owl. They both watched until it was a tiny black speck in the sky.

She noticed the makeshift bandage on Draco's wrist was stained red. She grabbed his hand and gently unwrapped the bandage. She looked at the gash and bit her lip. She met his grey eyes for a moment and then pulled out her wand. She rested the tip next to the wound and whispered a spell. To her relieved surprise, the injury sealed itself into a thin line that quickly took on the pale hue of a healed wound.

Draco rubbed a finger across it and raised an eyebrow.

"Impressive, Granger. When did you learn healing spells?"

"I read everything I could get my hands on when school let out. Memorized dozens of spells. I just haven't had the chance to use any of them. Until now."

"Well, you did an excellent job. How was it?"

"Strange. Not like other spells. You have to draw the energy from yourself, rather than elsewhere. I could feel a bit of a drain even for that small cut. There must be a trick or technique for healing larger wounds." She shuddered a bit. "I'm far too squeamish for major healing."

"That makes two of us." Draco grinned. "What shall we do now?"

"We should definitely get some rest, especially you, now that you've lost blood. We'll need all of our energy tonight. I'll walk you back to the common room, since I left the books there."

When they reached the Slytherin common room again, she made Draco lie down on the sofa and propped his head with green and silver pillows.

"Why don't you lie down here with me?" he suggested. She rolled her eyes.

"The object is for you to rest, not overexcite yourself with the need to show off your masculine prowess."

"Is that what you think I was doing before?"

"I don't want to know your motivation," she said quickly.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm likely to believe whatever you tell me, no matter how distant it is from the truth."

He scowled. "Actually, what you're saying is that you won't believe anything I say, even if it happens to be the truth."

She grinned. "That would be correct." He gave her a wounded expression and she didn't believe that for a moment, either.

"Now, stop chattering and go to sleep."

"Will you stay here with me?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why? Are you afraid of me?"

"No. I've been alone with you all afternoon. Why should I be afraid now?"

"Exactly. Wake me up before dinner," he said and shut his eyes. Having neatly trapped herself, she sighed, picked up one of the books, and sat on the end of the sofa, being careful not to touch him. After a moment, she leaned over and tugged off Draco's boots. He sighed in contentment and murmured sleepy thanks. She smiled and immersed herself in the book, but she still noticed when his breathing became deep and even. She levitated his cloak to cover him and let her eyes caress his features. She felt a strange sense of contentment, watching him sleep. It disturbed her.

27 Favour

Draco awoke to find Hermione fast asleep at the opposite end of the couch. The book was open on her lap. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before glancing at the clock on the mantle. Six fifteen. He'd better go up to the Great Hall and make an appearance before the Gryffindors wondered where he was.

His cloak had slid onto the floor, so he picked it up. He carefully removed the book from Hermione's lap and covered her with his cloak. He brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes for a moment and wondered how his feelings could have changed so quickly. Had it only been days ago that he despised her? They had been through so much together. Luna, the rescue of Longbottom, the Horcrux search… Now that she had included Draco into her close circle of friends, he had a suspicion that she would fight to the death for him, the same as she would for Potter or Weasley. Her inability to cut him had been eye opening. She didn't want to hurt him, even on a superficial level. After all he had done to her…

He shook his head. As it turned out, he no longer wanted to hurt her, either. He went to his room and spent some time on a small project and then he went upstairs and grinned wickedly at Weasley's sigh of relief when Draco appeared in the Great Hall. The Weasel would have flipped his top if he knew where Hermione was at this moment. Draco wondered if Hermione could seriously entertain the notion of Weasley as a boyfriend. Her lack of enthusiasm when describing his kiss had been telling. Draco froze for a moment, wondering why he was even worrying about the idea. If she wanted Weasley, it was fine with him. Better than fine.

"Hermione must be sleeping," Harry commented when Draco sat down across from him. Draco was rather surprised to be the recipient of a conversation. Potter must be feeling under the weather.

"Let her rest. She'll likely be doing most of the work tonight. If you're finished, we should go and start preparations. Plus, we still need a lot of items."

"Aren't you eating?"

"I'll eat later."

"All right. I'm finished."

Draco scribbled a quick list and the three of them parted to retrieve the necessary equipment. They all met on the third floor and Harry guided Draco down to the hidden chamber, lighting the way brightly with his wand. The space was nearly perfect, a high-walled chamber with multiple vaults and a lowered dais in the center. It was very dusty and Draco set Ron and Harry to sweeping while he alternately shot jets of water and wind from his wand until the floor gleamed. The three of them, however, were filthy from splattered dirty water.

Draco set a small table in the center of the room and carefully draped a linen cloth over it. Atop the cloth, he set the Hufflepuff cup, a small incense burner, a cauldron, a piece of parchment inscribed with a stylized pentagram, a large ball of white string, and a white candle. Next to the altar, he set four additional candles: red, brown, yellow, and blue.

Harry was busy with a bucket of salt, into which he mixed several of Hermione's gathered herbs: angelica, horehound, mistletoe, and nettle. Draco set another censor, two small bowls, crumbled bits of frankincense and myrrh, and the flask of holy water next to the four mismatched candles.

He stood and looked at the other two.

"I think this is ready. Now, we just wait for Granger. What time is it?"

"Eight twenty," Harry supplied after a quick glance at his watch. Draco nodded.

"I suggest we all get cleaned up. We purified the room and it wouldn't hurt to do the same to ourselves. Let's plan to meet back here at 11:30."

He went straight to the prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor, stripped, and sank gratefully into a tub of very hot water. He dunked his head and settled back for a long, relaxing soak. His languid recreation was broken some time later when the coin he now wore about his neck heated. He lifted it on its new cord.

Malfoy?

Finally awake?

Yes. Where are you?

In the bath. Care to join me?

Hardly. Where are the others?

Certainly not here! Why don't you check out the Gryffindor common room?

All right. Where shall I meet you?

Here would be nice.

Drag your mind from the gutter and be serious.

I was serious. But for the sake of your virtue, I'll meet you in the chamber in thirty minutes or so.

Enjoy your bath.

That was out of the question, now. He'd been enjoying it immensely until the image of her joining him there took over his mind. He quickly soaped his hair, rinsed, and left the water.

He wrapped himself in a thick white dressing gown, as a row of them hung from hooks on the wall. Rather than stride through the halls half-undressed, he Tranfigured it into a set of white dress robes, getting them too tight at first. It took several attempts before he was satisfied with the results. He wondered how Hermione always managed to get the fit right on the first try.

He pulled his boots back on, combed his drying hair, and headed for the chamber. She was already there, assessing the work they had done.

"Nice job," she commented. She turned to look at him fully and her eyes widened as they traveled over him. He grinned. He quite enjoyed it when she looked at him like that.

"White?" she asked.

"It seemed appropriate."

"I never would have guessed the color would suit you so well. You look like…" She stopped and a bit of pink tinted her cheeks.

"Like what?" he prodded, but she shook her head.

"Never mind. Your ego needs no more fodder. It's swollen enough."

He walked forward and stood before her in his usual manner. He loved watching her wrestle with her need to step away. Her Gryffindor pride always won. She held her ground, as usual, and raised stormy brown eyes to his.

"Must you always stand so bloody close?" she asked.

"Yes," he said seriously. It was the only way he could drink in the apple-like scent of her, and watch the expressions that flitted across her face. Like the brief flash of annoyance that warred with the blush creeping across her cheeks. The fact that simply standing close to her had an effect on her gave him a heady sense of masculine power. Judging from the kiss they had shared and her reaction to it, Miss Granger's resistance to him was eroding quickly.

With a silent groan, he realized he shouldn't have conjured that particular memory. Her full lips were the color of a ripe peach and he knew they tasted as sweet. His heart began to thud in his chest and her blush deepened as if sensing the direction of his thoughts. Her chin rose almost imperceptibly and her lips parted. Her eyelids fluttered downward.

No way in hell could he resist that invitation. He lowered his head, but a venomous snarl caused him to pause and look over his shoulder. Hermione gasped. Weasley stood in the doorway looking as though he wanted to fly into the room and pummel Draco with his bare fists.

"God, Weasley," Draco said dryly. "Could you possibly have located a color that clashes more with your hair?" Ron's robes were clean, but a bit worn, and resembled the color of dried blood. Draco tipped his wand and turned the robes a different color.

Weasley yelped. "What the hell—? No way am I wearing Slytherin green! Hermione!"

She turned his robes back and then gave Draco a look, but admitted, "I have to say green does suit you, Ron."

"Maybe I should have been in Slytherin, then," Ron said bitterly. "You seem to have a thing for them all of a sudden."

"Honestly, Ronald," she said in exasperation and rolled her eyes. "Where's Harry?"

"Coming. Should we start early?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm starving and I feel inappropriately dressed. I think I'll get something to eat and then change."

"I'll join you," Draco said.

"Let's all go," Ron snapped and Draco grinned. The Weasel certainly had his dander up. Hermione headed down the corridor, followed by Ron, who fell into step beside Draco.

"You owe me a favor, Malfoy," Ron said in a low voice. Draco flicked a disdainful glance at him.

"I haven't forgotten."

"Good. I want you to stay away from Hermione."

Draco watched her walking ahead of them. Her curls bounced when she moved and the skirt she wore twitched invitingly with each step of her delectable legs. Draco's eyes caressed her form wickedly.

"I'll have to get back to you on that one, Weasel."

"I mean it, Malfoy," Ron hissed. "You're playing some sort of horrid game with her and she seems to be falling for it. I don't want to see her hurt, so you just leave her the hell alone."

"Relax. If her ickle heart gets broken, she'll go running to you for comfort, so what's the problem?"

"The problem is that I don't want her around you at all. You're bad news and I'm not buying this whole 'change of heart' routine. Not one bit. If you want to convince me you're not the same person who arranged Dumbledore's death, you'll do as I ask. You fuckingowe me and I'm telling you what will square us."

Draco felt a rush of annoyance.

"I don't want to convince you of anything, Weasley. Believe whatever you like. God, you Gryffindors are narrow-minded. Everything is either black or white to you. Your motives sure as hell aren't squeaky-clean. She's a big girl and she can make her own decisions. She doesn't need you manipulating her life."

"Don't even get me started on manipulation, you Slytherin bastard! Somehow, you're making her forget who you really are—what you've done! Well, I haven't forgotten."

They were nearly to the chamber beneath the trapdoor. Draco wanted to slam Weasley against the wall. He fought down his rage. Hermione glanced back at them and he noticed her gaze travel over him again. Her lips curved in a sensual smile that nearly stopped Draco's heart. He expelled a breath. Maybe the Weasel was right. He'd probably end up hurting her in the end. Where did he expect it to go? A hot, delicious roll in the sack? And then what? A girl like Hermione wouldn't settle for casual treatment. She would expect commitment. Hand-holding. Flowers. Engagement ring. Invitation home to meet Mummy and Daddy.

His jaw clenched. That would go over well. "Mother, Father, meet my Mudblood girlfriend. Yes, the same girl I hated with a passion for six long years. Ironic, isn't it?"

She stopped and waited for them expectantly. It took a fine-tunedWingardium Leviosa to get them back up to the third floor. No one could cast it better than Hermione. Hell, no one could cast much of anything better than her. She really did deserve better than Draco Malfoy. He glared at Weasley. She deserved better than the Weasel, too. What she deserved was… He shook his head and chuckled wryly. She deserved the Golden Boy himself. She deserved Harry Potter.

Weasley scowled at him suspiciously.

"All right, Weasel-face. You win. I'll do it," Draco said with a sigh of resignation.

"Do what?" Hermione asked now that they were close enough for her to overhear.

"No tricks?" Ron demanded.

"No tricks. You have my word as a Malfoy."

Ron's derisive expression revealed what he thought about that vow, but Draco didn't give a damn whether he believed it or not.

"What are you two plotting?"

Draco gazed at her sadly and wished he had been able to kiss her one last time. He sighed. C'est la vie.

"Never mind," Ron said. "Just a little matter between me and Malfoy. Take us up, Hermione."

She looked from one of them to the other, shook her head, and cast the spell.

They gathered in the chamber once more at 11:45. Hermione had eaten and then hurried off to bathe. She had waited expectantly for Draco to offer to join her and her eyes had narrowed in puzzlement when he hadn't even grinned. Draco had cursed Weasley under his breath, though. Roundly and often.

She was currently dressed in yellow robes. A strange color, but one that fit her well. She looked like springtime. Draco decided he had best stop thinking about her and turned his eyes to the others. Weasley still wore his ugly red robes and Harry's were black—an odd contract to Draco's white. They all stood around the altar and Hermione handed Draco the bucket of herbed salt.

"Cast away, oh mighty one," she said quietly.

Draco took the salt in his left hand and his wand in his right. The others looked sober, but determined. They had lit several candles about the room to provide light. Draco tried to shake off the notion that the place resembled a crypt. Not exactly a thought conducive to a positive working. He walked several paces from the altar in order to give them a large enough space, and then tipped the bucket. As he walked, he drew an imaginary line with his wand before covering it with salt.

"I conjure thee, oh circle of power, in this place, purified for our purpose. May this circle be perfect and unbroken. Guard us within. Sanctify this space and shield us from all powers without. Preserve and contain the powers we raise herein. By completion of thy sacred ring, I bless and consecrate thee."

With his final words, the ring of salt was completed. A bluish glow emanated from the outer edge of the salt, losing its hue as it rose, but giving the illusion of a shield enclosing the space overhead. He looked at Hermione expectantly.

She took up the censor containing frankincense and myrrh and placed it at the easternmost point of the circle. She lit them with her wand and a fragrant hint of smoke curled upwards. She Accioed the yellow candle and set it next to the censor.

She stood before the candle and raised her arms upwards in supplication, wand still clutched tightly in her right hand.

"Hail to thee, Son of Horus, Guardian of the East, bringer of the dawn. Lend to us your knowledge. Grant us clarity of thought, swift and pure as the desert wind that sweeps across the sand. Join with us. Protect us with the power of air and the innocence of childhood. With this light I conjure thee."

She lowered her wand and lit the candle. There was no change, but Draco felt a sudden charging of the air, as though a lightning storm was approaching. She turned and looked at Ron, who seemed nervous. He gamely took up the red candle and went to the southern point. He set the candle on the floor, swallowed, and took out the small card Hermione had made for him. He began to read.

"Hail to thee, Son of Horus, Guardian of the South, keeper of the light of noon. Lend to us your energy. Grant us the willpower to see us through our purpose, strong and bright as the sun that heats the desert sand. Join with us. Protect us with the power of fire and the vigor of youth. With this light I conjure thee."

He lit the red candle.

Draco stood to the west with the bowl of holy water and the blue candle. He set both on the floor. Hermione had given him a card, but he had already memorized the words. He raised his arms and spoke.

"Hail to thee, Son of Horus, Guardian of the West, keeper of the dusk. Lend to us your passion. Grant us purity of emotion, as fluid as the Nile, which flows through the desert and brings life to the parched earth. Join with us. Protect us with the power of water and the wisdom of maturity. With this light I conjure thee."

Draco lit the blue candle with a flick of his wand, and then it was Harry's turn. He stood behind the small bowl of pure salt and the brown candle.

"Hail to thee, Son of Horus, Guardian of the North, keeper of darkest midnight. Lend to us your strength. Grant us the endurance to see the coming battle through, solid as the rock beneath the desert sand. Join with us. Protect us with the power of earth and the resolution of old age. With this light I conjure thee."

Harry lit his candle.

With that, the air around them seemed to fairly crackle with energy. Draco let out a breath. He hated ritual magic. There were too many variables. He much preferred to point, flick, and focus his will.

Hermione walked forward and lifted the Horcrux. She set it directly on the parchment inscribed with the pentagram. Next, she lit the thick white candle.

"Now for the hard part," she said and met Draco's eyes. He went forward to stand by her, although he wouldn't be able to help her once she started the incantation.

"You can do it," he said encouragingly. She smiled fleetingly and began.

The spell had been taken from the book and had to be repeated several times. She punctuated each chant by touching the cup with herbs, holy water, salt, and her wand. A tangible force seemed to grow over the cup and Draco could see the strain on Hermione's face as she struggled to keep the words steady. The cup suddenly blackened and crumpled upon itself. Hermione levitated the cup and parchment. She set the cup down once the paper was free and then caused it to roll tightly like a scroll. Still using her wand, she began to wrap the white string tightly around the parchment. Draco could see her shaking with effort.

He lifted his wand and took over the string wrapping while she kept the scroll in midair. The thing resisted the binding. He persevered and it was finally completely wrapped in string. Hermione dropped it into the cauldron with relief. She cast another spell almost angrily and the string-wrapped paper ignited. It smoldered reluctantly at first, but quickly grew to fill the cauldron with angry, crackling flames that licked skyward and burned with an ugly greenish light.

A sudden howl burst from the cauldron and a dark shape streaked outward. It flung itself at Hermione, but seemed to have no tangibility. She gasped as it went straight through her, and then she crumpled against Draco, who caught her and sank to his knees. He watched as the thing spiraled wildly around their heads, shrieking with an otherworldly sound.

"Open the circle!" Draco yelled to Harry. Potter aimed a burst of water at the salt on the floor and it washed away. As if the air were suddenly sucked from the space, the dark shape hurtled out. As they watched, it dissipated as though shredded by invisible hands. The howling ceased.

"Exit Tom Riddle," Draco said breathlessly. He put a hand to Hermione's neck and felt for a pulse. Thankfully, her heart beat normally. She was probably just in shock from having a piece of Voldemort plunge through her. Ron hurried over and knelt beside them. He grabbed Hermione's shoulders and pulled her away from Draco, who watched him coldly, but said nothing. Ron lifted Hermione's still form.

"I'll take her upstairs," he said flatly. He walked over the broken circle and headed for the exit.

Harry was holding the blackened Hufflepuff cup. He looked at Draco somberly.

"One down," he said. Draco nodded.

"Now we just have to find the rest."

Draco blew out the guttering candles with quick bursts of air from his wand. Harry started after Ron, but paused at the doorway.

"Hey, Malfoy."

Draco looked over at him.

"Thanks for your help," Harry said seriously.

Draco smiled softly.

"Bet that hurt."

Harry laughed. "Yeah."

The Boy Who Lived turned and went out, leaving Draco in the growing darkness.

28 Harry's Observations

Harry was keyed up as he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. When he stepped through the portrait hole, he stopped in surprise. Hermione lay on the couch, still out cold, and Ron stood over her. Ginny Weasley stood before Ron with her hands on her hips and a confrontational stance.

Harry grinned and admired her for a moment before she turned on him angrily. His grin vanished. She walked to him and slid her arms around his neck.

"Hi, Harry," she said sweetly and planted a kiss on his lips. He kissed her cautiously, uncomfortable, as always, when doing so in Ron's presence. He pushed her away regretfully.

"Hi, Ginny. I thought we agreed not to do that any more."

"Actually,you agreed to that. I don't recall signing any contracts. Now, suppose you tell me what you've all been up to in the middle of the night, since my dear brother refuses to talk."

"When did you get here?" Harry countered, ignoring her question.

"About twenty minutes ago. It was Moody's idea to travel at night, of course. Sometimes I think he's completely lost it. Imagine my surprise to discover Gryffindor Tower completely empty. If I didn't know you so well, I would have gone straight to McGonagall."

"We were out… looking for something," Harry said lamely, which was somewhat vaguely true if you stretched your imagination far enough.

"Really? And where were you looking for this something? And what happened to Hermione?"

Harry thought hard. Answering those questions would require blatant lying and he really didn't want to do that to Ginny.

"I can't tell you," he said quietly. Her brown eyes flashed and then sparkled with angry tears.

"You know, I really hate it when you do this!" she yelled. "You three and your secrets! Why can't you ever let anyone into your tight little group? I've been possessed by Voldemort! I was nearly killed! What more do I have to do to be included in this private war of yours? If anyone should be involved, it should be me!"

Harry looked at Ron helplessly.

"It's not my decision," Harry told her quietly. "I was sworn to silence by Dumbledore."

"But Dumbledore is—"

"Some secrets cannot be revealed, even by death," Harry said, repeating Dumbledore's words. "Look at Grimmauld Place. Look at Hogwarts. He might be gone, but his essence remains. His spells yet hold, and his secrets will be maintained. I would tell you, but I can't."

He winced inwardly, because he had lied to her, after all. Even if he could, he would never tell her. He didn't want her anywhere near another Horcrux. He wanted her isolated and safe, even if she hated him for it.

She glared at him. "I don't believe you. If you really wanted to include me, you'd find a way. You find loopholes and break rules any time it suits your purpose. You just don't want me to know."

"I'm trying to…" He stopped, knowing if he mentioned the words "protect" or "safe" that she would blow like a champagne cork.

"Save it," she snapped. "If you want me out of it, then consider me excluded. As usual."

She whirled and stalked for the girl's dorm. Harry cringed when a door slammed upstairs.

"That went well," Ron commented.

"She hates me," Harry moaned.

"She's just mad right now. She'll throw some stuff or blow a hole in the wall, but she'll get over it."

"Maybe we should tell her. I mean, Malfoy knows… it's not exactly our exclusive secret any more."

Ron shook his head vehemently. "No. It was horrible, when she was in the Chamber of Secrets. I can't go through that again. She stays out of it."

Harry sighed, but nodded. He knew it wouldn't be easy. She was no shrinking violet to meekly accept the role they expected of her.

"She'll be watching us. It's going to be a lot harder to sneak around."

"Well, we won't have to do much of that for awhile. We've got no leads on any other… Trinkets. We don't know where You-Know-Who is. We're pretty much stuck here with Pensieve memories and the useless library until something cracks."

Ron located a blanket and draped it over Hermione gently. They had no way of taking her upstairs without triggering the alarm. Harry shook his head, still somewhat annoyed at the whole no-boys-in-the-girls'-dorm rule. Like any Gryffindor boy would be ignoble enough to sneak into the girl's dorm… Well, maybe Fred and George.

Ron brushed a lock of hair from Hermione's forehead. Harry's eyes narrowed at the gesture. It hadn't occurred to him until just that moment, but Ron's move triggered his memory. Harry knew there was something between Malfoy and Hermione. It had been obvious from the moment they had appeared at Hogwarts. It wasn't just the kiss on the stairs, either. It was the way they looked at one another, the palpable tension in the air when they were together, and the fleeting glances they gave to each other when they thought no one was watching… And then Hermione's admission that Ron's kiss had not affected her. Harry had no idea how Malfoy felt, but he was afraid that Hermione was already half in love with Draco, even if she wouldn't admit it to herself.

Yet, this afternoon, something had been different. Malfoy had suddenly become distant. He hadn't returned Hermione's teasing jibes; he had kept a safe distance between them; and the most telling of all—he had backed down from Ron in the broken circle. Without a word. It was beyond curious. It was damned strange. Harry opened his mouth to ask Ron about it, but he closed it with a snap. He knew Ron would be evasive and then defensive. Harry didn't want a row at this hour.

Besides, anything that kept Draco Malfoy away from Hermione probably wasn't a bad thing.

He just hoped she would see it that way.

Harry tossed in bed for awhile, but found himself unable to sleep. He got up and pulled on a dressing gown and slippers. After a moment, he slung on his Invisibility Cloak and padded out. He probably wouldn't run into anyone at this hour of the night, but on the off chance, he didn't want to answer any questions.

A passing ghost was the only moving creature he saw on the way to the Pensieve. Once in McGonagall's office, he lit a lamp and poured the next vial into the basin. He hated to go alone, but assumed it would be another Snape memory. In that, he was right.

The scene in the Pensieve revealed Snape as Harry had never before seen him. They were in Dumbledore's office again. Dumbledore was seated before the desk, looking old, worn, and sad. Snape was pacing and he looked distraught. His hair was disheveled and his hands were twisting together in agitation.

"It's my fault," Snape said. "I taunted him. I practically daredhim. I didn't know he would run off like that!" He laughed harshly, a painful sound without humor. "I should have known, of course. There was a reason he was sorted into Gryffindor. He always had more courage than sense, you know."

Snape sat heavily in a chair opposite Dumbledore. Harry was astonished to see tears gathering in Snape's eyes. Who the hell was he talking about?

"Sirius knew the risks," Dumbledore said quietly.

Harry gasped and shook his head, unable to accept what his ears were hearing. He stared from one of them to the other, locked in denial. Snape didn't seem to have heard the Headmaster. His eyes were unfocused.

"I should have been there," Snape said quietly. Harry clenched his fists. Snape couldn't be talking about the battle at the Department of Mysteries! He couldn't be pretending to be upset that Sirius had gone through the veil!

Snape went on. "And Bellatrix. How could she? Sirius might have been a blood-traitor, but he was a Black! He didn't deserve to die that way." Harry shook his head again, not believing a single word. His nails dug into his palms and he suddenly wished the memory were real so he could leap on Snape and pound him into jelly.

Snape sobbed suddenly and buried his head in his hands. Harry stared at Dumbledore in disbelief. Surely the Headmaster didn't believethis ridiculous blatant acting? Snape had treated Sirius like scum beneath his shoes and now he was sorry about his death? Was Dumbledore a complete imbecile?

Harry narrowed his eyes suddenly as a thought occurred to him. Snape was a skilled Occlumens. Was it possible his talents had evolved past simply blocking his thoughts from others? Was it feasible that Snape had actually learned how to project his will? Could he actually influence Dumbledore into believing his words? It was better than an Imperius Curse because the recipient would believe they acted of their own free will. Harry backed away as the idea took root. No wonder Dumbledore had trusted Snape! He'd had no choice in the matter!

Snape looked up again and his face was wet with tears. Harry's rage nearly exploded. Actual tears! Harry's anger toward Snape had dissipated somewhat since the incident on the Tower, but now it returned full force. His desire to kill Voldemort was second to his need to kill Snape. The bastard had fooled them all, even the greatest wizard among them.

"It wasn't your fault," Dumbledore said apologetically. "None of it was your fault."

Yes, it was, Harry thought angrily. It was all Snape's fault. All of it.

Snape stood up. "You know, if your damned Chosen Hero had learned his lessons, no one would have gone to the Department of Mysteries at all! Your precious Harry Potter didn't even try to block Voldemort's images! And you were bloody stupid not to tell him about the goddamn prophecy!"

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I am aware of my failings. I didn't count on Harry's curiosity outweighing his common sense."

"Despite the fact that I warned you several times," Snape said venomously. He got to his feet.

Dumbledore nodded wearily. "Recriminations will not bring Sirius back. We cannot change the past."

Snape looked at him with disgust. "Spare me your platitudes, old man. As far as I'm concerned, Sirius's blood is on your hands as well as mine."

He stormed to the door and out.

Harry sat heavily on the window seat and tried to grasp what he had witnessed. Snape had made Dumbledore believe that he was upset over the death of Sirius. Additionally, he had made Dumbledore feel extremely guilty over the incident. To what end? Was it merely to cement the trust Dumbledore already had in Snape? Harry began to see why Dumbledore had left so many memories of Snape. He couldn't directly reveal Snape's duplicity, but he could expose it, layer by layer.

Harry stood up and walked to Dumbledore's portrait. He lit his wand to provide light and the Headmaster, who appeared to have been sleeping, blinked at the sudden brightness.

"Harry! How nice to see you. Wandering about at night again?"

"Snape was using some spell on you, wasn't he?" Harry asked. "He forced you to trust him. Some spell he invented himself, maybe. We know he's good at that. Look at Sectumsempra. He made you believe him."

"Things are not always what they seem, Harry," Dumbledore's portrait said quietly.

"Yeah, well things definitely aren't what they seem with Snape, are they? I mean, crying over Sirius's death? It defies rational thought! And yet, you accepted it without question."

"His grief was quite real, Harry."

Harry barked an amazed laugh. "It works even beyond the grave? Before I kill him, I think I'll extract the secret of that spell. Hell, if he can do that to you, he's probably calling the shots on old Voldemort by now. No wonder he ran back to his old master. Now that he's got you out of the way, all he needs to do is get rid of Voldemort and he'll be the one in control. I bet he can even get the Death Eaters to follow him."

Harry turned to leave. "Frankly, I hope he does kill Voldemort. That way, all I have to do is kill Snape. Let me tell you, I'm ready for that day. Between what he did to Sirius and what he did to you… If I have to become a murderer at least it will be for the sake of justice. Voldemort killed my parents before I even knew who they were. But Snape is responsible for the death of two people I cared about. A lot. That's a pain I have to live with every day."

Harry went out before Dumbledore could respond. He didn't want any reassurances or moral clichés. He just wanted to hunt down Severus Snape.

Draco woke up when the coin warmed on his chest. He sat up with a start. He blinked blearily at the coin and lit his wand to make out the words.

Are you awake?

He groaned and collapsed back on the pillow. God save him from Little Miss Sunshine. He probably should have left the coin on the bedside table last night.

I am now.

Well, it's about time. It's past noon. You have an owl.

Past noon? He stretched lazily. No wonder his stomach was complaining. He needed sustenance. What was she talking about? He had an owl? Of course he had an owl. It was at home—

He sat up suddenly. Bloody hell, how could he have received a reply from his parents already? He had only sent his message yesterday and Hogwarts was miles from anywhere. The clothes he had worn to Hogwarts had been cleaned and neatly folded. He tugged them on. Maybe the owl was from someone else. Not likely, but possible.

He entered the Great Hall and paused when he discovered a whole gaggle of Gryffindors seated at their usual table. The usual three, plus Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley. He shot Hermione an irritated glare for not warning him. She smiled sweetly.

"What's he doing her?" Ginny yelled, leaping to her feet and brandishing her wand. Draco looked at her coldly. He could feel a headache coming on. One Weasley was bad enough. But four? Potter gripped his girlfriend's arm to pull her back down, but she yanked away. Draco raised an eyebrow. Apparently, everything was not peaches and cream in Loveland. Harry and Ginny had a hissed argument that grew louder until Ginny screamed something about Harry and his load of secrets and ran out of the room.

"Better go after her, Potter," Draco muttered, but Harry stayed in his seat, looking embarrassed and upset. Draco shook his head sadly. Once an idiot, always an idiot.

Hermione had saved a seat for Draco, but he rounded the table to sit in the space Ginny had vacated, next to Potter. An owl immediately fluttered down and landed before Draco. Hermione's eyes met his across the table as his brow knit in concern.

"Yours?" Hermione asked, obviously understanding the implications. If the message had been received and returned this quickly, it meant Draco's parents were nearby. The thought was somewhat alarming. Draco removed the message from the owl's holder and opened it. It was a brief message from Narcissa to Twillfit and Tatting's expressing regret that she could not attend their gala event. Draco rolled it up and tucked it into a pocket. He'd have to retrieve the true message later. After he ate.

Fred and George were watching him from their places beside Ron.

"So," said one twin. "Malfoy is here."

"Sitting next to Harry Potter," said the other.

"What's wrong with this picture?"

"It's completely insane?"

"Incomprehensible? Inexplicable?"

"Indubitably."

Draco's headache was growing. He ignored the annoying Weasleys and ate quickly. Harry was nursing a glass of pumpkin juice. He seemed preoccupied. When Draco finished and pushed his plate away, Harry asked quietly, "Can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?"

Without waiting for an answer, Potter rose and headed out. Curious, Draco followed. He heard Hermione start to get up and join them, but Ron stopped her with a question. Draco found Harry waiting for him by the entrance to the Slytherin dungeon. They walked together down the steps to Snape's office.

Harry wandered around the office aimlessly, peering at bottles and jars. Draco tossed himself into a chair and waited for Potter to get on with it. He finally turned around and looked at Draco seriously.

"You've spent a lot of time around Snape," Harry said. "I mean, he was your Head of House, you know where he lives, you saw him outside of school…"

"Is this going somewhere?" Draco asked dryly, twirling his wand.

Harry told him about the last Pensieve memory he'd witnessed and his speculation about the spell Snape had likely used on Dumbledore.

"So, do you think it's possible?" Harry finished. "For Snape to have created some sort of variation on the Imperius Curse?"

"Well, it is pretty farfetched to think he'd be broken up over Sirius Black… I suppose it's possible Snape invented a new spell. It wouldn't be the first time." He looked pointedly at Harry, who flushed guiltily.

"I didn't mean to use Sectumsempra on you," he said quietly. "I panicked. I didn't even know what it did, at the time."

Draco shrugged. "Forget it. I wasn't exactly holding back on you, either."

They shared an uncomfortable silence and then Harry cleared his throat.

"Why do you think Snape told you about the Horcrux? And how did he know about it?"

"I've been thinking about that. I haven't anything concrete…just a vague idea."

"Which is?"

"I think Snape is in love with my mother."

Harry stared at him. "Seriously?"

Draco nodded. "She trusts Snape and always has. She was still at Hogwarts when he started. She's older than he is… I'm sure he followed her around like a puppy dog, back then. From what I remember, Snape joined Bella's little clique at school during her last year at Hogwarts. That was likely before they found out he was a half-blood, of course. But, even then he was a Dark Arts master."

Draco shifted slightly and tossed a leg over the arm of the chair. He tapped his wand idly against his knee.

"Snape was out at the Manor fairly often over breaks. I think he told Mother he was personally interested in my education. From what I recall, though, they spent a lot of time in the parlour drinking wine and reminiscing about their school days."

"Didn't that bother your father?"

Draco laughed in genuine amusement.

"Of course not. Look at Snape! My father knew he had nothing to fear from a shifty, greasy-haired, half-blood like Snape. I think it amused him to let the fool have his fantasies." Draco shook his head. "My parents are so deeply in love it's almost sickening. I have to leave the room when they sit together in front of the fire and gaze into each others' eyes." He shuddered. "Frankly, I'm surprised I'm an only child, the way they carry on…"

Harry held up a hand. "More information than I need, thank you."

Draco grinned. "Anyway, Snape made an Unbreakable Vow to my mother in order to protect me. Why the hell would he do that? Despite what he might have led you to believe, I wasn't his favorite student. I'm good at Potions, but I'm no genius like Granger. I don't think he even had a favorite student. He pretty much hated all of us. I got the impression he despised teaching."

"You know, in one memory, Snape said he was a prisoner here. Why do you suppose he stayed? To stop Voldemort? If that's the case, why did he kill Dumbledore? It couldn't have merely been to protect you and win your mother's favor. Could it?"

"I don't know. He does seem to want the Horcruxes destroyed. Maybe he decided he could do it without Dumbledore's help."

"He did rail at Dumbledore for wasting twelve years when they should have been looking for the things."

"He had a point there."

Harry nodded. Draco pulled out the message from his mother and got to his feet.

"I need to read this. Hang on and I'll tell you if it says anything useful."

He searched Snape's desk until he found a hellishly sharp knife. He took a deep breath while Harry watched him curiously.

"God, I hate this part," Draco admitted and then made a small slash on his arm. Harry gasped in surprise. Draco opened the scroll and let some of his blood trickle onto the parchment. Instantly, the inked words disappeared and reddish-brown letters appeared.

Thank God you're safe! We've been so worried. HE has stopped all external activity and seeks to achieve his main objective. I'm not sure what that is, but it will not be pleasant when it comes. Do not return to the school! It's not safe. Don't try and contact us again unless it is vital. He watches us too closely. Be careful. We love you. Also, Regulus Black died in Carlisle. The house is in ruins,south of town overlooking the Firth.

Draco handed the message at Harry and conjured a bandage for his arm.

Harry rolled up the scroll and returned it to Draco. His green eyes shone.

"Let's go."

"What? Us? Now?"

"I'm sick of sitting around doing bloody nothing and waiting for my birthday. Do you know where this place is?"

"No, but it shouldn't be hard to find. All I need is a map. But, you don't honestly want to go alone with me. I could be a Death Eater, remember? I can't be trusted."

"Hermione trusts you. That's good enough for me."

Draco combed an annoyed hand through his hair. Having Potter look at him like that was almost worse than when Granger did it. Damned overly-trusting Gryffindors. He scowled.

"If anything happens to you, even accidentally, your little friends will rip me limb from limb."

Harry grinned wickedly.

"Then, you'd better make sure nothing happens to me, hadn't you?"

"I really hate you. You know that, right?"

"It's been fairly obvious. If it's any consolation, I hate you, too."

"That's settled, then. Meet me on the Astronomy Tower within the hour. Bring your broom. You'll probably want your cloak, too, so your friends don't see you sneaking off. I'll go find a map and figure out a place to Apparate us once we get past the grounds." He sighed. "This is probably the stupidest thing I've done lately."

"Don't worry, I think you've done plenty of stupid things, recently. One more shouldn't matter."

"Don't push it, Potter."

29 Draco and Harry

Draco stood impatiently on the Tower and drummed his fingers on his broomstick. Granted, he was early, but still, what could be taking The Chosen One so bloody long?

"Are you ready?" a voice asked ridiculously close to Draco's ear. He nearly jumped out of his skin and he heard invisible Harry laugh.

"Fuck you, Potter," Malfoy snarled and took a breath to calm his racing heart. Harry chuckled again. "Bastard. You might be invisible, but I am not. Are any of your Order members going to spot me and try to drag us back here?"

"I doubt it. Most of them left for the Ministry of Magic this morning to decide what to do with the Carrows."

"I could give them a hint," Draco said.

"I think they're looking into a less permanent solution."

"Fools. Amycus and Alecto didn't know much, did they?"

"Not that I heard. Moody was in a wretched temper, so they didn't have anything useful to say, apparently."

"How did you explain your absence to your clingy friends?"

"I left them a note."

Draco burst out laughing. "You like to live dangerously, don't you, Potter? I'd hate to be around Granger when she finds that little present." To that end, Draco had left Hermione's Galleon in his trunk. He did not need her trying to contact him all day long in a rage.

"Let's go before she finds it and come to kill us," Harry suggested.

"Killyou," Draco commented. "This was your idea."

Harry made an impatient sound, so Malfoy mounted his broom and pushed off.

TheyApparated on the outskirts of Carlisle, luckily in a deserted field. A very muddy deserted field. Draco disgustedly yanked his feet out of the sucking mud and got back on his broom.

"Malfoy! We could be spotted by Muggles!"

"I don't bloody care! I'm not walking through ankle-deep mud when I have a damned broom in my hand!"

He heard Harry sigh and after a short jaunt, they reached a dirt road lined in huge oak trees. Draco spent a ludicrous amount of time trying to scrape the mud from his boots before Harry cursed and shot a Scourgify spell at them. Draco tsked.

"What if a Muggle had seen that?"

"Do you see any Muggles?" Harry shouted.

"Thankfully not, or they would be wondering where the hell your loud voice is coming from. Do you plan to stay invisible the whole day? Not that I'm complaining because it spares me from looking at your ugly mug."

Harry pulled the cloak off.

"Do you plan to be obnoxious the whole day?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, I rather thought I would. Do you mind?"

Harry pulled at his black hair and Draco grinned. He planned to keep track of how many times Potter made that particular gesture, now that Draco could see him.

"Where do we go from here?"

"To the coast, Potter. If I remember the tale, I should be able to find it fairly quickly."

They were lucky to locate the cottage at all. If not for the broken chimney jutting from the surrounding bushes, they would have bypassed it completely. Brush and trees surrounded what remained of the building, which was perched on a windy promontory overlooking a rocky, crumbling cliff.

Draco and Harry picked their way carefully through the undergrowth, although Draco insistently blasted offending branches into powder with jets of green light until Harry yanked at his hair again. Two, thought Draco.

"Will you stop with the bloody magic?" he hissed. Draco threw him a hard glare.

"Relax. There are no Muggles around here at all. Why do you think Regulus chose this spot?"

"That was nearly two decades ago!"

"No kidding. What the hell are we looking for? Because unless it's green and shaped like a bush, we're going to have a hard time locating it."

The interior of the destroyed cottage was a mass of greenery. Even the rotting timbers were covered with a thick layer of moss. Harry looked around dejectedly.

"I don't know. I was hoping we would be able to find something, at least. It looks like this whole trip was a bloody waste of time."

"Not completely. You got to spend the afternoon basking in my perfection." Harry scowled, hand in hair. Three. Draco chuckled. "Actually, when we were at the Riddle House, Hermione cast a magical detection spell. Do you know it?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I think so, yeah." He tested a couple of spells and finally managed a faint glow. Unfortunately, the whole place had a dim residue of magic.

"All right," Draco said and sighed. "Teach me the spell. We will have to wade in there and see what is left. It will go faster with both of us."

The spell was relatively simple and quickly learned, so Draco and Harry separated to search the ruins. Over the next forty minutes they discovered broken potion bottles, a rusted cauldron, the burned and rotting covers of various illegible books, assorted containers with mostly unidentifiable potion ingredients, and a gold amulet that caused Harry to yelp in excitement until he cleaned off the grime to reveal a nearly worthless amulet containing a minor protection spell.

Draco was near the crumbling fireplace pressing various bricks to check for hidden compartments when he felt the floor shift beneath him. He froze in alarm.

"Oh shi—" he managed before the floor collapsed beneath him. He was down before he could so much as lift his wand. His head slammed into something hard and a searing pain shot through his leg, so intense he would have screamed if the breath hadn't been knocked out of him. He fought for air and tried to hold off the encroaching blackness.

"Malfoy!" Harry yelled. Draco drew in a painful breath. He could hear Potter thumping around above him. Great. That was all he needed, for the idiot to fall atop him and break something else.

He blinked at the jagged span of light above. He had fallen about eight feet onto an uneven pile of something. The urge to succumb to blackness slowly faded and he cautiously lifted his wand.

"Malfoy!" Harry bellowed again.

"I'm alive, Potter! Be careful up there. I don't need you collapsing rest of the floor!"

The effort of shouting had sent pain exploding through both Draco's head and his right leg. He gasped and reluctantly lifted his wand. He raised his throbbing head and looked down. He groaned and shut his eyes against another wave of vertigo when he saw the thick splinter of wood jutting from his thigh.

Potter's head blocked the light from above.

"Are you all right? Do you want me to levitate you up?"

"Hell no! My leg—I think it's… impaled on something."

"Hold on! I'm coming down."

"I wasn't really planning to go anywhere," Draco said dryly, but Harry was gone.

A few mnutes later, a rope snaked down through the opening. Potter slid over the edge and climbed down hand over hand.

"Are you a wizard or aren't you?" Draco asked.

"MyLevitation spell is… not very precise."

"Oh, but you were willing to levitate me?"

"Of course."

Harry made it down and knelt beside Draco. He looked at Draco's thigh and swallowed hard. Worried green eyes met silver.

"It's a splintered piece of a broken beam. Still attached. We'll have to…pull your leg free."

Draco's jaw tightened, although he had already expected that to be the case.

"All right." He took a deep breath. "Let's do it."

"Hang on," Harry said. He stood and pulled out his wand. "I have to do something first."

He pointed his wand at Draco and a jet of bluish light was the last thing Malfoy saw.

Harry knelt down, working quickly. He did not know how long Malfoy would be out. The shard jutted about an inch out of the top of Draco's thigh. Harry wrenched at Draco's cloak and cut several strips to use as bandages. Then he steeled himself, got a solid grip on Malfoy's leg, and yanked.

The pain must have been excruciating, because Malfoy arched his back, gasped, and his eyes snapped open, negating the sleep spell. Harry put his hands over the wound, top and bottom, trying to staunch the blood flow. He held the pressure for a moment and then quickly wrapped the cloak strips tightly around Malfoy's thigh. He tied them off tightly.

"God, Malfoy. There's so much blood. We've got to get you to St. Mungo's."

"Did you search down here?" Draco asked.

"For what?"

"Anything! We're already here and I don't plan to come back, so get searching."

Harry glared, but cast the detection spell. Several spots about the cellar glowed.

"There," Draco said and pointed his wand toward a glowing portion of the floor. Harry hurried over and ripped at the boards. A moldering leather bag was revealed by a quick Lumos spell. Harry hefted the bag and tugged it open. A small silver box fell into his hands.

He looked at Draco and then flipped the latch. He reached in and lifted the golden chain attached to an open locket. The inside of the locket was blackened. The locket spun slowly and the light glinted off the S insignia. Slytherin's locket.

"Regulus did destroy it," Harry breathed. He felt a sharp pang of sadness when he recalled the other locket, the fake locket Regulus Black had left for them to retrieve—the one that had ended in Dumbledore's death.

"Bring it," Draco said weakly. "We need to be certain."

Harry returned the locket to the silver box and stowed it in his pack with his Invisibility Cloak. He hurried back to Malfoy. It was difficult to see against the black bandage, but Harry could tell it was wet with blood.

"Time to go," he said.

"Don't forget the brooms." Harry tugged at his hair. Even wounded, Malfoy was a pain in the ass.

"Acciobrooms!" Harry snapped. They hurtled through the opening and into Harry's hand. "Now can we go?"

"Almost. Take off your glasses."

"What?"

"Do you plan to burst into St. Mungo's and announce to everyone that Harry Potter has arrived? Perhaps you should take out an ad in The Daily Prophet."

Harry took off his glasses and stowed them in his shirt pocket. Draco tapped him on the head and muttered a spell. Harry's head felt ice-cold for a moment.

Malfoy touched his own head with his wand and Harry watched in amazement as Draco's hair darkened.

"That will have to do. Let's go."

Harry knelt down and slid his right arm around Draco's shoulders, since he did not have a free hand. His right held his wand and his left gripped their brooms.

"Make one comment and I'll leave your ass here, Malfoy," Harry warned. "I swear it."

"You're terribly sexy when you're forceful, Potter," Draco breathed huskily. Harry shut his eyes, prayed for strength, and Disapparated.

TheyApparated into the lobby at St. Mungo's. Harry dropped the brooms and lifted Malfoy, who seemed barely conscious after the strain of Apparition. A witch hurried up to them.

"My…brother was in a… flying accident," Harry blurted, wishing he had thought to come up with a story.

Another hospital employee hurried up and quickly levitated Malfoy to an elevator. "Check him in, please. They will tell you where to go afterward. Your brother should be fine."

Harry watched Malfoy disappear and then he picked up the brooms and walked to the front desk.

"Name of patient?" the witch on duty asked calmly.

"…David Masters," Harry replied, pulling a name from the ether of panic.

"Nature of injury?"

Harry explained the flying accident, elaborating a bit for effect.

"How will you be paying for this?"

Harry reached absently into his pocket and pulled out a handful of Galleons. He set them on the counter and the witch blinked at him in surprise.

"Cash," she said.

"Say, if an underage wizard happened to Apparate into St. Mungo's with a patient… in an emergency…"

The witch smiled. "Don't you worry, dearie. The Ministry sort of turns a blind eye to underage magic when St. Mungo's is involved. They certainly won't punish any twelve-year-old who Apparatestheir injured grandparent to the hospital. They might investigate, but it would be bad form to fine people in an emergency. Now, if you go over to the elevators, they can direct you to your brother."

Harry nodded. He noticed a bright spot of blood on his cuff and another on his forearm. His hands were covered in blood, dirt, and grime, so he stopped at the lavatory on the way to the elevator.

He gaped in shock when he saw his image in the mirror. No wonder no one had stared at him and looked for his scar. For one thing, he had grown his hair out nearly to his eyes in order to cover the scar, and for another his hair was now white-blonde. Without his glasses, he was completely unrecognizable. He turned his head this way and that. His new hair was striking against his green eyes. He laughed at his handsome reflection. No wonder Malfoy was so conceited.

Harry shook off his bemusement and washed his hands and face before heading upstairs to find Malfoy.

Draco lay back against the pillows, looking as handsome as ever, but extremely un-Malfoy-like with raven-black hair. If possible, he was even better-looking with the contrast of his silver eyes below the dark locks. He looked paler than usual.

"Better, David?" Harry asked, stressing the name.

Malfoy nodded. "They fixed it. My leg was broken, too. Go figure. And I had a concussion."

"That explains your attempt to kiss me."

Malfoy actually grinned at the riposte. His lids fluttered shut over grey eyes. His smile faded. "I'm bloody tired."

"You lost a lot of blood. We need to get back so you can rest."

Malfoy nodded without opening his eyes. "They're fixing my clothes. Should be back with them shortly."

Draco was bare to the waist, where the bed sheet was pulled over his legs. Harry saw a thin white line bisecting Malfoy's torso in a jagged scar. He swallowed hard. Malfoy wore a permanent legacy of Harry'sSectumsempra attack. Not for the first time, Harry felt a twinge of regret. Draco's eyes flew open and met Harry's, but a nurse burst into the room with a bundle of clothing.

"Here you are, Mr. Masters. Mended and cleaned and good as new, just like your leg." She stopped and blinked at Harry. "And you must be the other Mr. Masters. As soon as your brother is dressed, you may check him out." She giggled. "Brothers. My, you're both so very handsome. One so fair and the other so dark."

Harry chuckled at that. "You have no idea."

Malfoy rubbed a temple. "Can we just get out of here, brother?"

Harry waited in the hall until Draco limped out. Harry looked at him in concern, but Malfoy shook his head.

"It's just tender. I can walk. Let's get out of here before someone recognizes us."

They made it downstairs and nearly to the front doors without incident. Harry was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the front door swung open and they were nearly run down by Rufus Scrimgeour and Percy Weasley. For a shocked moment, Harry's eyes met Scrimgeour's. The Minister's thick brows drew upward in surprise and Harry stammered a quick apology before he hurried out. He heard Percy say, "Bloody familiar, both of them. I just can't think where…"

Harry pushed open the door and shoved his way out. Malfoy stopped.

"I'll take us back to Hogwarts. We don't want you in any trouble."

Harry didn't waste time arguing. Malfoy reached out and grabbed Harry's shoulder just as the door burst open and Scrimgeour yelled, "Wait!" The Minister leveled his wand at them an instant too late.

Draco took them away.

30 The Hog's Head

Hermione watched Draco and Harry leave the Great Hall. She moved to follow, but Ron grabbed her arm.

"Hey, Hermione, now that Fred and George are here, they can teach you those new spells they showed me and Harry."

"You can teach her those, little brother," said Fred.

"Or Harry can."

"We've got new ones to show you today."

"That's why we're here."

"What is Malfoy doing here?" Fred asked.

"And why hasn't Harry killed him, yet?"

"It's kind of a long story," Hermione said absently and detached Ron's fingers from her arm. "Ron can tell you."

"You know, I don't remember the part about Luna very well," Ron said. "You should tell it. After all, you brought the git here, remember?"

Hermione glared at Ron's bitter tone.

"You know perfectly well why I did! I suppose you'd prefer that we had left poor Neville in Voldemort's hands?"

Ron scowled. "Of course not. I just wish you'd left Malfoy somewhere else."

"Yes, like back at Malfoy Manor to be tortured and killed with his parents."

She got to her feet and stormed out before Ron could stop her. She sighed. She supposed she shouldn't be so upset with Ron. How could she expect him to get over his hatred of Malfoy so quickly? He hadn't been through the same situations with Draco that she had. She paused in the front hall and wondered where Harry and Draco had gone.

She started upstairs, figuring the library to be the most likely neutral place. Draco certainly wouldn't let Harry into the Slytherin common room, nor would Harry allow Draco into the Gryffindor common room, especially if Ginny had retreated there.

To Hermione's annoyance, the library was deserted. She sighed heavily. Maybe they had gone outside. It looked to be a beautiful day. She fingered the coin on her chest, but decided against using it. If Draco was with Harry, he most likely wouldn't answer her. She went outside and headed for the Quidditch Pitch. Hopefully they weren't doing anything stupid, like practicing Quidditch. That would most likely involve trying to knock each other off brooms and sending Bludgers after one another.

The Quidditch Pitch was empty but for a flock of birds. Out of patience, she grabbed the Galleon and tried to contact Draco. There was no response. Either he was ignoring her or he wasn't wearing his coin.

She went back inside and stopped off at the Slytherin common room. It was completely empty. She even looked in Draco's room while half-expecting him to be waiting there to pounce on her. By then, she was heartily frustrated and stalked straight to the Gryffindor common room to ascertain that Harry didn't have anything to do with Draco's latest disappearance. As it turned out, he did.

Ron was sitting on the sofa folding a piece of parchment into a lousy semblance of an origami animal. He started when she approached and then looked extremely guilty.

"What?" she demanded.

He wordlessly handed her the note.

Malfoy and I are checking out the RAB connection. I'll be perfectly safe, so stop worrying. Cover for me. H

The parchment was crumpled in her fist before she could stop herself.

"Did you know about this?" she gritted to Ron.

"Not until I saw the note! I didn't see him at all after he left the Great Hall. I only found the note a minute ago—he left it on my bed."

Hermione was fuming. "Of all the bloody reckless, dangerous— We can't even go help them because we have no idea where they went!"

She wanted to rage at Ron for keeping her in the Great Hall when she should have been with Draco, reading the message he'd received. She sat down across from Ron instead, feeling helpless and somewhat betrayed.

"He should have told me," she said quietly.

"He couldn't tell us or we would've demanded to come along," Ron said and she didn't bother to correct his assumption that she meant Harry. "Hopefully, they'll be back by dinner so we don't have to stave off any questions." Ron got to his feet. "Fred and George want us in the Charms classroom. You might want to fetch Ginny or she'll be even madder than she is now. I wouldn't mention Harry, either."
Hermione wasn't in the mood to learn new spells, nor deal with Ginny's temper tantrums. She wanted to figure out where Harry and Draco had gone.

"You go ahead. I'll be along with Ginny shortly."

Ron gave her a dubious look, but went. Hermione went up and told Ginny to meet them in the Charms classroom. Ginny glared at her from her position on the bed where she was scribbling furiously into a journal.

"I thought you'd be done with diaries after…" Hermione said.

"It's no diary. It's a story. It started as a love story about me and Harry, but it's now turned into a tale where Harry is brutally maimed."

Hermione was shocked.

"You don't seriously want that to happen?"

"Of course not. But in the story, Harry is bedridden and I have to nurse him back to health." She scowled. "It's probably the only way I'd get to spend time alone with him. Sometimes I wish he wasn't the Savior of the Wizarding World. Makes it bloody hard to have any kind of normal relationship."

"I'm starting to think there is no such thing as a normal relationship," Hermione said quietly. Ginny looked at her quizzically. Hermione forced a smile.

"Don't mind me. I'm in a rotten mood today."

"Me, too. Let's go torture Fred and George," Ginny suggested.

"Okay. I'll meet you there. First I need to go ask Lupin something."

"I'd ask what, but I'm sure it's super secret," Ginny said bitterly.

Hermione laughed. "You really are in a rotten mood."

"You have no idea."

It took Hermione forever to locate Lupin. She finally found him in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. He seemed surprised when she entered the room.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked before he could ask her the same question. He looked around ruefully.

"I spent so much time in here that I find it somewhat familiar. I come here to think sometimes. Tonks thinks it's dreadful. Very gloomy."

"I don't. You were an excellent teacher. Best we had."

Lupin smiled somewhat sadly.

"Well, I doubt you sought me out to discuss my stint as a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. What can I do for you?"

"I have another question about Regulus Black."

Lupin looked puzzled. "Why do you keep asking about him? I haven't even thought about him in years."

"Mostly curiosity. I keep wondering what he might have done to earn a death sentence from Voldemort. Did he do something to actually harm Voldemort? Or was it a simple case of annoyance? Also, it's been suggested that he didn't really die. That he went into hiding somewhere."

Lupin sighed. "Well, that one I can confirm, anyway. Regulus is definitely dead. Sirius wasn't allowed to attend the funeral, being out of favor, of course, but we all went along later so he could pay his respects to his brother. James, being James, opened the coffin when Peter pulled Sirius outside for a moment. It was most assuredly Regulus. James said there wasn't a mark on him, so it was most likely Avada Kedavra."

Hermione had thought it unlikely that Regulus was alive; anyway, otherwise he would have surfaced long before now. Then again, Peter Pettigrew would still have been masquerading as a rat, but for Sirius. However, for someone as egocentric as Regulus apparently was… it would have been difficult to stay in hiding.

"We also checked out the place where he died, long after the Dark Mark had dissipated, but we found nothing unusual. The place had been burnt to the ground, so if Regulus had left any sort of message, it was lost in the fire."

"You know where he died?" Hermione asked, striving to keep the excitement from her voice.

"Yes…somewhere on the northwestern coast. What was the name of that place…?"

Remember, remember, remember, Hermione willed silently, but Lupin shook his head.

"It's been so long. I can't recall. It doesn't matter, anyway."

Hermione wanted to tear at her hair and howl that it did matter, but she didn't dare make Lupin suspicious. If he found out Harry had fled the school, the entire Order would be in a dither. She nodded and tried to cover her disappointment. She would just have to trust Harry and Draco not to get into too much trouble. The thought made her cringe. How could they not?

She left the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and muttered to herself.

"If you two make it back here in one piece, I'm going to strangle you both."

Draco staggered when they appeared at the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Harry swore roundly. Malfoy probably shouldn't have Disapparatedthem both after losing so much blood. Harry steadied him, but Malfoy shook him off.

"Hands off, Potter. I don't swing that way."

"Shut up, Malfoy. Come on. Let's stop at the Hog's Head for some food. At this rate, you'll pass out before we make it halfway to the school. No one should recognize us at the moment."

"Scrimgeour nearly did."

"I don't think so. I think he was just suspicious and wanted to know who we were. He's fairly clever."

"For an obnoxious git."

"Yeah."

They pushed into the Hog's Head, which was decently crowded, given the proximity to the dinner hour. They took a table near the door and a busty barmaid sized them up with an interested smile. Harry flushed, but Malfoy looked her up and down with an air of long practice. Draco ordered food and a couple of ales and she sauntered off with a coy look over her shoulder.

"I'm surprised you didn't choose the Three Broomsticks," Malfoy commented. "This place seems a bit rough for you."

Harry didn't reply. Even though Madam Rosmerta had been under theImperious Curse, it was difficult for Harry to see her without feeling betrayed.

Malfoy ate his kidney pie like a starving man and chugged two ales in short order. Harry finished most of his meal and sipped at his ale. He was none too thrilled with the unclean state of his glass. He wondered how many meal remains were caked to it. Malfoy finally sat back with a contented sigh. He looked so unlike himself with black hair that Harry almost felt like he sat with a stranger.

Malfoy propped an elbow on the table and started on his third ale. For a moment, Harry envied the air of casual elegance that accompanied Draco's every move. He wondered if it came naturally or was something Malfoy had to work at.

"I suppose I owe you a bloody favor, now, too," Draco said morosely.

Harry shook his head. "Actually, I was hoping this kind of squared us after the whole Sectumsempra incident."

Malfoy's relief was evident. "Thank God. It was bad enough owing Weasley." He grimaced. Harry's eyes narrowed.
"You owed Ron?"

"The damned Weasel showed up when the Carrows were having a bit of fun using the Cruciatus Curse on me. Frankly, I'm surprised he stopped them."

"Did Ron happen to call in this debt?"

Malfoy's silver eyes measured him for a moment and then flicked to the white-haired bartender, who seemed to be watching them.

"Did you ever have a thing for Granger, Potter?"

Harry was surprised at the change of subject.

"You mean a boyfriend/girlfriend thing?" Harry laughed. "No."

"Why not? Don't you think you two would make the perfect little Gryffindor couple?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they say opposites attract, you know. She's brilliant and you're an idiot. She's… well, she's rather turned into an attractive package—for a Mudblood—and you're homely as hell. She's read about a million books and you've read… what? Six?" Malfoy laughed.

Harry scowled and shrugged. "I've just never thought of her that way. She's always treated me as her rather dimwitted younger brother."

"Maybe you should kiss her. Dispense with those brotherly feelings," Malfoy suggested slyly. Harry thought about it for a moment. Hermione had become nice-looking over the past year. He thought about kissing her and had to choke back a laugh. He could picture Hermione evaluating his kiss in a clinical fashion and jotting off a checklist for him in areas that needed improvement. He shook his head.

"No, thank you. Never happen."

"She's a lot more woman than those scrawny things you usually favor. I mean, Cho Chang and Ginny Weasley? Have some taste, Potter."

"There is nothing wrong with Ginny Weasley!"

"Have you met her mother? If little Ginny follows in those hefty footsteps, she'll be a domineering, shrewish fishwife by the time she's twenty. I wouldn't even wish that on you, Potter."

"I don't think your opinion of anyone named Weasley is exactly unbiased. Frankly, I think you would be a better match for Hermione than I would." He grinned as Malfoy's eyes flashed.

"What do you mean by that?"

"As you said, opposites attract. She's noble and good; you're pure evil. She's sweet and kind; you're an obnoxious prat—"

"You're hilarious, Potter." Draco's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me you're actually trying to interest me in Granger? I thought she was your friend."

Harry snorted. "You have a point. Regardless, I think she should be allowed to make up her own mind on the subject."

Malfoy's grey gaze measured him. "What are you saying, exactly?"

"I'm saying… why does that bartender keep watching us?"

Draco didn't bother to look over his shoulder. He shrugged.

"Probably because he finally figured out who you are. I'm sure a properly irate group of Phoenix members will be here shortly to escort you back."

Harry stared at him. "The bartender is in league with the Order? How do you know?"

Draco burst out laughing. "Can you possibly be that dense? Oh wait, I forgot who I'm talking to. The bartender is Aberforth Dumbledore, you idiot. Don't tell me your great pal Albus never mentioned it. Did he not let you in on a single secret? Ever?"

Apparently not, Harry thought angrily. He looked at the bartender carefully, trying to find a resemblance to Dumbledore. There wasn't much, except maybe the nose. Where Dumbledore's eyes had been wise and kindly, Aberforth's were calculating and suspicious. His beard was unkempt and dirty, as were his clothing.

"How is it that you know who he is?" Harry demanded.

"It's common Death Eater knowledge. It pays to keep tabs on Order members, although I'm certain there are some at the Ministry the Dark Lord doesn't know about. Yet."

The bartender left the bar suddenly and wandered over to sit at their table.

"If you two are finished, I suggest you get your arses outside. Wait for me 'round back and I'll escort you back where you belong." His blue eyes were cold when they looked at Harry. "Looks like Albus was right about you bring reckless, eh?"

Harry met his gaze serenely and said nothing. Aberforth actually chuckled.

"No excuses? Cor, you are your father's son. Let's hope that doesn't get you killed. Now, scoot. Lot's of rough customers hereabouts. You're ripe pickings for more than You-Know-Who's followers. Robbers and ruffians don't care who you are. They'll kill you for your coin just the same."

Malfoy snorted as they got to their feet and took up their brooms from the rack near the door.

"After the day I've had, I'll bloody welcome a fight."

"Are you drunk?" Harry asked.

Outraged silver eyes flashed at him.

"Malfoys don't get drunk. Especially after only three small ales."

Harry shook his head and they walked to the rear of the building. The back door opened, but no robbers emerged, only Aberforth Dumbledore, who had his wand out. His eyes carefully searched every bush and tree. Harry didn't expect trouble. It was hours yet until dusk, with the sky cloudless and the longest day of the year only a couple of weeks away.

"Maybe you should put on your cloak and hide, Chosen One," Malfoy suggested. Harry ignored that.

"How long does this spell last?" he asked, pointing at his pale hair with his wand.

"About twelve hours. Or until I cancel it."

Harry grinned. He couldn't wait until he saw Ginny's face when she saw him.

"On your brooms," Aberforth ordered. "Let's go."

Aberforth walked while Harry and Draco floated in front of him, heading for Hogwarts.

31  Mistaken Identity

Hermione was in no mood to listen to the Weasley family's favorite pastime—bickering amongst themselves—so she wandered aimlessly around the first floor for a long time, thinking. There must be some way to figure out where Draco and Harry had gone. Although by now, they could be finished with their search and on their way back. She stopped in surprise when she encountered Mrs. Norris in an otherwise deserted corridor. The cat hissed at her and yowled loudly.

Hermione looked around quickly, feeling guilty even though she wasn't doing anything wrong. If Mrs. Norris was here, Filch had to be lurking somewhere nearby. She heard a whisper of cloth and ran for the nearby stairs. She took the steps two at a time and then paused and leaned over the railing. Mrs. Norris was visible below, partway up the first riser, watching her.

"Who's there, Mrs. Norris?" she heard. "Aye, there are many sneaky 'appenings 'ere this summer, eh? But we're keepin' our eyes open, aren't we, Mrs. Norris?"

Hermione edged quietly back from the edge and continued up the stairs, hugging the outer walls. She wondered how safe it was to have the Order in residence with Filch snooping around. He had always obeyed Dumbledore, albeit grudgingly, but who did he owe allegiance to, now?

She continued upward until she found herself on the Astronomy Tower. She walked to the edge and peered toward the horizon, hoping to see two figures on brooms approaching. The blue sky was empty in all directions. She sighed.

Inspiration suddenly struck and she hurried back to the ground floor. She took a moment to catch her breath and massage her aching legs. They would not thank her for rushing up and down the stairs, although she wouldn't have to worry about fitting into her jeans for awhile, at least. When she could breathe normally again, she hurried to Classroom Eleven, looking for Firenze. She found him in his remade classroom, lying on the grass in a circle of flowers in a pose of meditation. She stopped, not willing to interrupt.

"Come forth, Hermione Granger," the centaur said in his calm voice. "What troubles you?"

"I need to ask you a question."

"Not about the future, I presume?"

She nearly sneered, but caught herself in time. She didn't believe a jot in Divination. How could the future be foretold when any chance decision could change the outcome from moment to moment?

"Definitely not. The present, actually. It's not Divination I'm interested in, but Scrying."

Firenze nodded. "An ancient art, but useful. You seek someone?"

"Yes. Can you help me? I just need to know if they're all right."

"I can help you. You will need to bring the necessary supplies. A large silver bowl filled with pure spring water and something that belongs to the person in question, preferably something personal. An item of jewelry, a lock of hair, or something they have handled often enough to leave an imprint of their essence."

"That's it?"

"The method is simple. Achieving the goal is not."

She nodded. "I'll be back shortly."

She ran out and nearly bowled over Tonks, who was heading for the front door. She steadied Hermione and then gave her an irritated look.

"Guess where I'm going?" Tonks asked. Hermione was stymied.

"I've no idea."

"I'm going to the front gate to let in Harry Potter," Tonks gritted.

"Oh." Hermione's relief overwhelmed all possible guilt.

"Yes,oh. What are you thinking to let him wander about like that? After all we've done to try and keep him safe?"

"Do you think I would have let him go alone?" Hermione snapped, stung.

Tonks measured her. "Probably not, but I doubt you would have stopped him—"

A loud voice bellowed from the Great Hall and Tonks bolted like a flash for the front doors, dragging Hermione with her.

"Rufus Scrimgeour is here. He's demanding to know where Harry is. Apparently, he went to London to check on him and discovered the Dursleys and Harry…"

"Gone."

"Yeah." Tonks hurried down the path as she spoke and Hermione had to rush to keep up with her.

"Then, there was some incident at St. Mungo's and Percy swears he saw Harry, although he couldn't be certain for some reason or another… Either way, we need to produce Harry immediately. Aberforth sent a Patronus to McGonagall, but she's busy trying to stave off Scrimgeour."

"Aberforth?" The name sounded vaguely familiar to Hermione.

"Aberforth Dumbledore. He's the proprietor at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade."

"Dumbledore'sbrother?" It took Hermione a moment to process that information. "Why doesn't he just open the gates?"

Tonks chuckled.

"Dumbledore insisted Aberforth never be given access to Hogwarts. I'm not sure if they got on well, frankly. Aberforth is something of a black sheep. Also, due to his dubious clientele, it's very possible for him to be captured or put under the Imperius Curse. It's safer to give him as little knowledge as possible."

As they approached the gates, Hermione could see a tall man waiting with two people hovering on brooms. She breathed a sigh of extreme relief.

"Why don't they just fly over?"

"They can't. They'd be stuck there like flies on flypaper. No one gets into Hogwarts anymore, by any means, without permission. Scrimgeour came by the Floo Network."

Hermione was reluctantly impressed with the school's defenses, even though it was a definite problem when it came to sneaking in and out.

"So, you can leave, but not return," she commented.

"Exactly."

Hermione was close enough now to pick out Draco's silver hair, but as she approached, she stared at him in puzzlement. There was something strangely different about him…

Draco watched as Tonks and Hermione arrived. Aberforth waved briefly and started back down the path toward Hogsmeade. Apparently, he wasn't very talkative, even with other Order members.

Tonks looked through the bars at Draco.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said with a short tone and then she blinked at him. Draco grinned as her eyes flicked from him to Harry.

"What in the—?" Hermione breathed.

Draco hopped off his broom.

"Well, we figured—" he began, but an arm suddenly clamped around his throat as he was grabbed from behind. Draco saw a frozen tableau of shock on the faces of Harry, Tonks, and Hermione, and then he felt the familiar yanking sensation of Disapparation.

When the rough arm released him, he collapsed in a weak heap, feeling nauseous and dizzy. The smell of dark earth and rotting leaves was strong in his nostrils and he gagged for a moment. Too muchApparition in one day… And he shouldn't have had that third ale…

He felt harsh hands about his person and knew his wand had been taken. Magical ropes twisted around his arms and legs. Someone chuckled and moved away. Draco fought down his weakness and blinked at his captor.

"Ho, that was just too easy, Potter! I captured Harry Potter! All alone! Let's see them laugh at Wormtail, now, let's just see!"

Wormtail. Draco heaved himself onto his haunches—a difficult process with his hands bound behind his back—and looked at the ratlike man cavorting happily. He glanced around. They looked to be surrounded by trees and undergrowth. A forest. But, which forest?

"Actually, I think they'll do more than laugh at you," Draco said dryly.

Wormtail stopped dancing and turned to stare at the sound of Draco's voice. He raced over and snatched Draco's chin with his metal hand, clenching hard. Draco glared into Wormtail's disbelieving face.

"But…I was there at the Hog's Head! I heard Potter's voice! I followed you down the path, waiting for you to get off the damned broom…" Wormtail was breathing hard and his hand squeezed even harder, nearly crushing Draco's jaw. "What are you doing masquerading as Potter?" Wormtail bellowed. Draco threw himself backward, out of Pettigrew's grasp. He worked his bruised jaw carefully. Potter was lucky Peter's little rat eyes were neither too keen in a gloomy, smoke-filled tavern, nor outside at a distance.

Wormtail was dancing again, but in a rage this time. He rubbed his hands together in agitation, flesh against metal.

"What is Draco Malfoy doing in Harry Potter's company looking like Harry Potter?" Wormtail asked himself. "Oh, the Dark Lord will be wanting an answer to that question! I think he'll be pleased with Wormtail, after all. And Harry Potter is at Hogwarts." Wormtail tittered happily, an irritating sound that chilled Draco to the bone. He began to realize the gravity of his situation.

"Where the hell are we?" Draco asked and pushed himself back into a sitting position.

"All in good time, little Malfoy," Wormtail crooned. "We'll go see the Dark Lord soon. Very soon. Just one little errand, first."

Wormtail walked to the edge of the small clearing and peered into the dense forest as if waiting for someone. Draco looked around carefully, trying to find some method of escape. His broom lay nearby. A promising sight, although he couldn't quite figure out how he would be able to fly the thing with his hands and feet bound. He began to inch toward it, nevertheless.

He wondered where his wand had gone, but assumed Wormtail had tucked it into the dirty black Death Eater robes he wore. Draco suddenly regretted placing Hermione's coin in his trunk back at Hogwarts. Not that he would have been able to tell her where he was… but at least he wouldn't have felt quite so alone.

Once again, Draco Malfoy was on his own. For the first time in his life, the thought made him very depressed.

Damn those Gryffindors. They were sucking the Malfoy right out of him.

32 The Forest

Hermione watched in shock as Draco disappeared.

Harry leaped forward, but it was too late. They were gone. He turned to look at Hermione and Tonks, who was frantically tapping at the lock with her wand.

"Who was it?" Harry yelled.

"Wormtail," Hermione said woodenly. "He must have been a rat—hiding until he could strike…"

Tonks finally got the lock open and wrenched at the gate. She dragged Harry inside. Hermione gazed at Harry's silver hair and felt like crying.

"We'll never find him," she said hoarsely. "Wormtail will take him back to Voldemort and Voldemort will ki… ki…" The tears did gather, then, but Harry grabbed her shoulders.

"We'll find him." He gave her a small shake. "Don't quit on me, now! We're going to need that brain of yours. Get on the broom."

He straddled his broom and even though she hated flying through the air on a tiny wooden twig, she didn't hesitate. She gripped Harry's waist tightly and pressed her cheek into his back as they raced toward the castle.

"Hey!" Tonks yelled behind them. "Wait for me!"

"Scrimgeour is here!" Hermione yelled after a moment.

Harry didn't stop at the front door, but flew up and over the parapet to hover over Gryffindor Tower. Hermione hated being ridiculously high off the ground, and had to pry her eyes open when Harry yelled, "Open the window!"

She peered over to see a nearby window that was open a crack. She reached out a hand and yanked at it. Harry moved the broom away and the window pulled all the way open. She let go and he maneuvered the broom around and through the window.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when they touched down in Harry's room. Harry propped his broom against the wall. "Okay, now how do we find Malfoy?"

Hermione sank down on his bed, feeling painfully helpless. She twisted her hands together. "I don't know. He had the spelled Galleon I gave him, but he must have taken it off before you left. I've been trying to find you two all day." She looked somewhat accusingly at Harry. "Frankly, I'm surprised you're willing to go after him."

Harry shrugged. "I won't leave anyone to Voldemort's mercy. Not even Malfoy. Although, he really wasn't that bad, today. Obnoxious as usual, but he doesn't seem to have that priggish, mean edge that he used to. And look what he did to my hair! Stunning, isn't it?"

Hermione smiled wanly, although the sight of it made her heart constrict with fear for Draco. "It's shocking, to say the least. Where are your glasses?"

Harry tugged them from his pocket and put them on.

"No wonder I was squinting all afternoon," he muttered.

He still looked abnormally cute. Like a studious version of Malfoy; all platinum hair and— She gasped and stood up.

"I nearly forgot! I asked Firenze to help me Scry for you. Maybe he can still try! Come on!"

She bolted down the steps and Harry followed, thankfully asking no questions. Ginny was sitting in the common room, scribbling on her story. She stared at them as they raced by.

"Hi, Ginny!" Harry yelled. "Bye, Ginny!"

Hermione groaned. The Weasley girl was going to completely kill him.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked just as Ginny's identical shout followed them out the portrait hole.

"The Slytherin common room! I need something of Draco's. And spring water. Where are we going to find spring water?"

"In the kitchen, of course. It's all spring water."

"You get the water, then. Make sure it's in a silver pitcher. Oh, and grab a large silver bowl. Take the bowl and the water to Firenze and I'll meet you there!"

They separated in the Front Hall just as Tonks entered the front door. Hermione waved, but didn't pause as she raced to the Slytherin common room. She thanked Draco heartily for not changing the password as she hurried to his room. She opened his trunk and snatched the coin that was lying atop a stack of books. She paused for a moment, looking at the braided chain that held the Galleon. She touched it in amazement.

It was made of strands of her own hair, braided together with thin cords of silver and green. She shook her head when she recalled how the locks had been torn out and smiled softly. She couldn't believe he had saved them…

Hermione shook off her musing and slipped the coin over her head to join her own. She needed to find something personal of Draco's… something imprinted with his essence… She immediately snatched his silver comb off the dressing table. If that didn't contain his essence, she greatly underestimated his ego. To her delight, the comb still contained a number of precious strands of silver-blonde.

Hermione ran back to Classroom Eleven.

Harry was seated before Firenze, who looked as if he hadn't moved from the last time she'd seen him. A large silver bowl sat on the grass before them. Hermione flung herself to her knees before the bowl, panting with exertion.

Firenze took the comb she held out to him.

"Relax, Hermione. This takes concentration and a still mind. Let go of your emotions. Clear your thoughts."

Hermione tried, but she had little patience for spells involving trancelike states. She wanted Firenze to cast the bloody thing and be done with it. She shut her eyes and stilled her breathing, trying to mimic a calm state so the centaur wouldn't insist on waiting all evening for her to relax.

Finally, Firenze said, "Let us begin." He slid Draco's comb into the bowl and waited for the ripples to subside. "We seek the owner of this item. May the ether part and bestow upon this liquid the image we request." Firenze passed his palm over the water. Once, then twice, then thrice. He didn't make a sound, but ice suddenly formed around the edges of the bowl and made a crystalline rim around the water like a circular frame.

Hermione and Harry leaned forward eagerly as mist began to rise from the water. Firenze moved his hand again over the bowl, three times in the other direction. The mist cleared instantly, seeming to sink into the water, which suddenly looked cloudy. Draco's comb was obscured. Colors began to swirl in the liquid: brown, green, and grey. Firenze whispered something Hermione could not make out, and the colors sharpened like a camera coming into focus.

She drew in a breath as Draco appeared. His black hair threw her for a moment and she glanced at Harry. Draco was bound hand and foot. He sat in the dirt near a clump of ferns, glaring to his right.

"Where is he?" Hermione whispered.

"A forest," said Harry.

"That could be anywhere!" she protested.

"Have patience," Firenze murmured. He made another slow movement and the scene pulled back. Draco's broom was visible and it was apparent he was moving unobtrusively toward it. At the edge of the pool, Wormtail came into view. His back was to Draco and he looked intently into the forest. He spun around quickly and stared at Draco. Wormtail reached into his robes and pulled out two wands—one brown and gnarled; one sleek and black. He put the black one in his silver hand and raised the other.

Wormtail's mouth moved, but Hermione and the others could make out no words. A jet of light suddenly shot toward Draco, who contorted in pain. Hermione gasped in horror. If she could have leaped into the pool and throttled Peter Pettigrew at that moment, she would have.

"Crucio," Harry murmured. His worried green eyes met hers for a moment.

"How will we ever find him?" she asked.

Firenze was studying the scene, which pulled back a bit more and shifted. A strangely shaped fallen log came into view. Firenze nodded.

"I know this place."

Hermione tried to steady the leap of hope at his words.

"Can you take us there?"

"No. But, I can tell you where it is."

Apparently, Wormtail was bored with waiting. He turned to look at Draco and pulled out both wands. His beady eyes flicked from Draco to his broom.

"Let me give you a taste of what the Dark Lord is going to do to you," Wormtail said and giggled. Draco braced himself for what he knew was coming, but it made no difference. During the brief interludes between excruciating pain, he reflected that he'd been Crucioedfar too often lately.

Wormtail seemed to enjoy tormenting Draco, for he kept it up until Draco lay bonelessly in the churned dirt, too weak to even resist. His body shook with the aftereffects of the torture.

Pettigrew panted from the exertion of casting curse after curse at Draco. He wiped an arm across his forehead and walked forward until he looked down at Draco's exhausted form.

"Not so handsome now, are you?" he sneered. He lifted a stumpy foot to stomp Draco, but Malfoy anticipated the move and quickly rolled forward, slamming into Wormtail's other leg. Off balance, Wormtail sprawled over Draco, who yelled, "Accio wand!"

It was a tricky maneuver with his hands behind his back, but Draco's natural dexterity served him well. The wand snapped into his bound hands and he contorted swiftly as Wormtail rolled over, trying to level his wand at Draco. Malfoy's spell hit Wormtail first. Stupefy was instantly followed by Petrificus Totalusand Pettigrew lay in a frozen state of panic.

Draco spelled the ropes on his hands and feet and stood up shakily. He was disturbed by his own weakness, but determined not to reveal it to Pettigrew. To his disgust, Wormtail's silver hand groped and twitched at the earth, apparently immune to Draco's spells. Draco placed a booted foot on Wormtail's other hand and pried the brown wand from his immobile hand.

"I should stave your head in," Draco snarled and actually cast about for a moment, looking for a stone large enough to do the job. Only the thought of Hermione's displeasure halted him.

Instead, he held up Pettigrew's wand, grasped it in both hands, and snapped it cleanly in two. He threw the pieces aside with a satisfied smirk at Wormtail.

"Good luck using that to torture anyone," Draco said. He wiped the dirt from his face and tried to shake the debris from his hair. God, he hated to be dirty.

Draco turned back to Wormtail and conjured ropes. He wrapped them, mummy-like, around Pettigrew's body, covering him completely from toes to neck.

"Who are you meeting here, Peter?" Draco asked. "I'm going to release the spell so that you can talk to me. You will stay where you are or I will fry you where you lay."

He cancelled the Full Body-Bind and Pettrigrew blinked at him for the space of two heartbeats and then disappeared. Draco smiled as a rat leaped out of the now-limp ropes—and straight into the magical cage Draco had cast. Malfoy admired the glowing blue bars that encased the frantic Animagus. He tsked as if disappointed.

"Predictable to the end, eh Wormtail? Of course, these bars won't last forever, will they? We need something a bit more permanent." He flicked his wand and conjured a small iron crate. He levitated the glowing cage and maneuvered it into the iron box, which he then locked with a metallic click. The blue bars vanished, leaving Peter neatly trapped in the tiny iron cage.

"You see, Peter, during my short tenure as a prisoner in my own house," Draco explained, "I had plenty of time to sit around and think. I spent some of that time figuring out how to trap a rat like you. It took me nearly a week to perfect that little magic cage. Impressive, wasn't it?" He lifted the metal box by the handle and peered at the squeaking rat. "Of course, I had this one sitting in my room just waiting to be conjured. It's solid iron. If you change back now, Wormtail, you will be a very compact cube of flesh."

He dropped the cage and smiled at the rat's squeal as it fell. Draco walked over and picked up his broom. A wave of vertigo washed over him at the movement and his hands shook as he leaned on the broom handle. He felt bone-deep weariness and knew he didn't dareDisapparate. He didn't have the energy. He glanced around at the deepening gloom and wished he knew where the hell they were. Regardless, it was time to go.

Draco froze at a whisper of sound behind him. He spun with a spell on his lips, but the newcomer was faster. Draco's wand sailed out of his hand and into a nearby bush. Draco swallowed, realizing he hadn't been afraid of Wormtail at all. He felt real fear now when he looked into Fenrir Greyback's yellow eyes. The werewolf stalked up to Draco and put his wand tip under Malfoy's chin.

"Well, well, well. The lost Malfoy pup," Fenrir growled. "You are looking far less dead than expected. Different, also, but still delectable." Greyback's eyes slid to the iron cage. He left Draco and walked over to the box, although he kept his wand pointed at Draco, who resisted the urge to propel his broom into the air. Greyback was too fast—he would simply blast Draco before he got ten feet off the ground. Fenrir picked up Wormtail's cage and then dropped it with a pained hiss. He shot a glare at Draco.

"Iron? That's playing nasty, Draco." He crouched down and peered through the bars at Peter. "Is that you, Wormtail? Got yourself snared by a little boy?" He laughed harshly. "I'd let you out, but I'd rather find out why you're in there. Draco and I are going to have a little chat. Aren't we, Draco?"

In one swift movement, Draco Accioed his wand and attempted toDisapparate, but he was immobilized the instant his wand touched his hand.

Greyback sauntered back and plucked the wand from Draco's nerveless hand. He tossed it casually over a shoulder. "No, you mustn't leave yet, little morsel. Not yet." His voice was a sibilant whisper and his eyes gleamed with mad excitement. Draco felt panic slowly steal over him and tried to relax. He would need every coherent thought he possessed to get out of this alive. Fenrir released the spell, but Draco stood his ground defiantly.

"Where have you been, Draco? Your parents have been so worried." His tone was pleasant and conversational. "What are you doing here? And why is Wormtail locked up in a little metal box? Are you betraying the Dark Lord? Can you honestly be that stupid?"

Draco was silent while his mind sought any plausible lie that would buy him some time. His broom was still clutched in his left hand. If only Fenrir would move away. It was probably useless, but he would have to try to fly out.

Except Fenrir moved even closer. His lips ricked open over his wickedly sharp teeth. Draco nearly gagged at the stench of the werewolf's breath—it reeked of rotting meat and blood.

"The ever-present Malfoy pride. Ice cold and haughty, just like your parents, aren't you, Draco? Well, boy, I've wanted to shatter your frozen demeanor for a long time, now. Yes, you know I've been watching you, don't you, Draco?" Greyback's face was nearly pressed against Draco's and his lips moved close to Draco's ear as he whispered, "I can't wait to break you. You'll beg me for mercy before I'm done with you."

Draco's skin crawled and the fear on top of his exhaustion caused him to tremble slightly. He took a deep breath and dug into the last vestiges of his willpower in order to maintain control. If he showed any sign of weakness, Greyback would rend him like a bag of suet.

Greyback chuckled. "Do you want to know the fun part?" he added, still murmuring in Draco's ear. "I won't even need to use magic."

Swiftly, Fenrir moved and Draco felt the werewolf's tongue, hot and wet, caress his collarbone. It slid languidly up Draco's neck and followed his jugular to the hollow beneath Draco's ear. Draco closed his eyes and shuddered uncontrollably. Fenrir chuckled at his reaction and Draco felt Fenrir's sharp teeth tug on his earlobe.

Overcome with horror, Draco acted in sheer reflex. He gripped his broom with both hands and heaved with all his strength. The angle was off and he had no leverage, but the end of the broom caught Greyback sharply on the temple. The werewolf grunted and reared back slightly, enough for Draco to follow the movement with a flip of his broom. The bristle end struck Fenrir in the face.

Draco instantly willed his broom into the air, but the werewolf was lightning fast. Malfoy's feet were barely off the ground when Fenrir's claws hooked his waist and bore him roughly to the ground. Draco's head slammed into the earth, dazing him for a moment.

Greyback snatched the broom and tossed it across the clearing. He sat back on his haunches and regarded Draco. Far from being angry, he actually laughed in delight.

"I was afraid you were going to make this too easy for me, but you are a true Malfoy, aren't you? You'll fight me to your last breath." Draco glared for reply, although he had the chilling fear that his last breath would come sooner than later.

Greyback suddenly leaped on him and pinned him to the earth. Draco could barely breathe with the weight of the werewolf on his chest. Both his wrists were gripped in Fenrir's hands, although one still held Greyback's wand. The end of it gouged painfully into Draco's flesh. He twisted his hand in an attempt to reach the wand, but Fenrir squeezed until Draco felt his wrist bones grind together. He winced.

"I have plans for you, Malfoy" Greyback murmured and his teeth nipped at Draco's jaw, not quite hard enough to draw blood. "Don't worry, you're a spot old for my liking. I'll only bleed you a bit today. Just enough for a taste." The werewolf slid his rough lips down to Draco's neck. He opened his mouth wide and Draco felt sharp teeth against his flesh. Greyback bit down gently, then harder, sucking slightly and tasting Draco with his tongue. Draco tried to throw him off, but he was too tightly held—he could barely move. Surprisingly, the teeth released.

"One week, Draco. Do you know what happens in one week?" Fenrir murmured against his throat.

Draco did.

"Full moon," Fenrir said with satisfaction. He leaned upward slightly to look into Draco's eyes. The werewolf showed his dreadful teeth in a smile. "Black hair suits you. It makes you look darker and more sinister. You're practically perfect."

Draco nearly forgot to breathe. Fenrir's voice was low and conspiratorial, likely so Wormtail's sharp ears would not hear.

"Did you figure it out, Draco? You're a smart lad. I'm taking you with me. I'll hide you away where no one will find you. For seven… short… days. It's convenient everyone thinks you're dead. Wormtail is long overdue for a little accident, now that you've nicely penned him. He won't be talking. And then, next Friday, you will become like me." He threw back his head and laughed wickedly.

A werewolf.

33 Borrowed Luck

Hermione and Harry were caught running from Firenze's room. Hermione's heart sank, but she had known they were in trouble the minute Harry had run into Aberforth. Unfortunately, they were confronted by a formidable group: Rufus Scrimgeour, McGonagall, Moody, Percy Weasley, and Jack Williamson.

"You see?" McGonagall said after a shocked look at Harry's altered appearance. "Here is Mr. Potter, now. His guardians suggested he stay with Hermione, who is here doing some research for me during the break. I am sponsoring her." Harry looked at Hermione, who was amazed at McGonagall's flawless ability to lie like a trooper.

Scrimgeour's jaw worked and he seemed personally affronted by Harry's platinum hair.

"Succumbing to fads, Potter? I would think you, of all people, would maintain a more serious demeanor."

Harry shrugged. "I thought you and the Ministry had Voldemort under control. You don't need me at all, right? I thought I might join a band or something."

Jack snorted a laugh that he covered with a muted cough. Hermione had no patience for verbal skirmishes when Draco was in the forest being tortured.

"Professor, I need to talk with you. It's very urgent," she said quietly after sidling to McGonagall's side.

"Why were you at St. Mungo's today?" Scrimgeour demanded. "And who was that with you?"

"I was visiting a friend," Harry snapped. "Frankly, I wasn't aware that I needed permission from the Ministry prior to visiting the hospital. I'll be sure to schedule my next injury."

"How dare you speak to the Minister that way? Don't be cheeky, Potter, we're only trying to help you," Percy said disapprovingly.

"I don't really feel it necessary to be followed around by the Ministry," Harry snarled.

"Professor, please," Hermione begged. McGonagall gave her a severe look, obviously still annoyed at Harry's departure. Hermione, realizing it might take forever to extract themselves from the group, suddenly clapped a hand to her stomach.

"I don't feel very well," she said shakily. She bolted for the stairs, sending a mental apology to Harry for deserting him while she tried to think of a way to remove him, also. She ran all the way to the Gryffindor common room and had to pause, gasping, while she clutched at a stitch in her side. The wizarding world was in severe need of elevators.

She hurried through the portrait hole and straight into a heated Weasley discussion involving Ginny, Ron, and the twins. Ron leaped to his feet.

"Where the hell have you been all day?" he demanded.

"Malfoy's been captured by Wormtail," she gasped, still holding her side. "He's in the forest. We've got to get him before Peter takes him to Voldemort!" None of the Weasleys moved. She scowled at the lot of them.

"Harry was waylaid by Rufus Scrimgeour and Percy in the Front Hall. I don't know how to get him away from there, if he hasn't already gotten himself clapped in irons by shouting at the Minister."

The twins leaped to their feet.

"Rescue Harry? That we can do."

"One diversion, coming up."

"Tell Harry I'll meet him by Hagrid's hut," she said.

She took the stairs to the boys' dorm two at a time and snatched up Harry's broom. Her hands shook as she walked to the still-open window.

"What are you doing?" Ron yelled as he entered the room behind her.

"You can't seriously be thinking of flying out that window?" Ginny added. "On Harry's broom?"

"Oh, yes I am," Hermione said quietly.

"But, you can't fly," Ron protested.

"I'm a witch! Of course I can fly."

"But, you suck at it," Ginny said.

"I don't care. Wormtail has Draco in the forest and he's torturing him with the Cruciatus Curse. I have to help him."

"It'sDraco now?" Ron snapped. "Good riddance, I say!"

Hermione turned on him savagely. "How can you even think that, Ron? Whoare you? If that's your attitude, then you're no better than… than a Death Eater!"

Ron's jaw worked furiously, but it was Ginny who looked repentant.

"Come on," she said and took Harry's broom from Hermione. "I'll fly you down."

Hermione mounted behind Ginny and they soared out the window and flew swiftly to Hagrid's hut. Ron flew down and landed next to them. He threw her an apologetic look, but she wasn't ready to forgive him quite yet. It seemed forever before Harry ran out of the front doors, followed by Tonks and Lupin. Hermione groaned, fearing another delay.

Harry accepted his broom from Ginny and grinned as she examined his blonde locks. He tugged at his hair in a familiar gesture.

"Nice, huh?"

Ginny shook her head, but smiled ruefully.

"Not really, no."

"We'd better hurry," Lupin interrupted. Hermione blinked at him. "Tonks told me Draco was captured. Harry said you know where he is."

"Firenze told us. He can't return to the forest or the other centaurs will kill him, but he recognized the spot and told us how to get there," Hermione said.

"Hopefully, we don't run into any centaurs, either," Tonks commented.

"Or spiders," Ron added with a shudder.

Lupin and Tonks mounted their own brooms. Hermione immediately took up position behind Harry. At the moment, she didn't trust Ron to take her anywhere near Draco. She gripped Harry's waist tightly. Ginny shook her head, but moved quickly to mount behind Ron.

"Let's go," Ginny said. The six of them took off across the top of the forest.

"Hold on, Draco," Hermione pleaded silently.

Draco was tired. He'd used the final reserves of his strength in his last escape attempt and now he just wanted to let go and sink into oblivion. Seven days was a long time; maybe he would find a way to escape in the interim. Before Greyback turned him into a werewolf. He couldn't allow that to happen.

Draco's eyes were closed and he lay perfectly limp, not willing to look into Greyback's leering visage any longer. He wished the werewolf would get off him—he was finding it exceedingly difficult to breathe.

Fenrir's left hand released Draco's right arm. Malfoy's left hand was cold and numb from Greyback's wand and grip cutting off his circulation. He felt the werewolf grip the neck of his grey shirt and tear viciously downward, popping buttons and baring Draco's chest.

This can't be good, Draco thought grimly. Bloody hell, what would The Boy Who Lived do in this situation? Probably conjure up some miraculous solution with his infinite Gryffindor luck. He needed to borrow some of that luck.

A moment later, Draco sucked in a tortured breath as Fenrir's sharp fangs tore into his flesh near the hollow of his right shoulder. The pain didn't stop there—Greyback dragged his teeth in a jagged path diagonally across Draco's chest. He stopped at Draco's diaphragm and began to lick his way back up the bloody gash, lapping at the blood.

Draco's right hand unobtrusively moved until his fingertips touched the smooth wood of Fenrir's wand. The werewolf was too intent on his gruesome task to notice, until Draco spoke.

"Serpensortia," Malfoy said quietly. Fenrir's head snapped up in surprise. His mouth was horrifyingly red. Before he could as much as blink, a huge snake launched itself at Fenrir's face. The fangs sank into the flesh of one eyebrow and the werewolf flung himself backward with a shriek.

The instant Greyback's weight left him, Draco rolled over groggily andAccioed his wand. The werewolf tore the snake from his face in a sanguine shower and glared yellow daggers at Draco, just as the wand snapped into Malfoy's outstretched hand.

"Expelliarmus!" they both shrieked at the same moment, but Draco's was born of desperation and was slightly faster; Fenrir's wand flew out of his hand. Draco's next spell smashed the werewolf backward into a tree and his third immobilized Greyback. The werewolf hit the ground stiffly and didn't move.

Draco sighed deeply and laid his cheek in the dirt, too exhausted even to feel relief. Blood trickled down his chest. He knew he had to get up and deal more permanently with Greyback. Tie him up, or kill him, or something. He just needed to rest for a moment. He shut his eyes.

He heard a shout and debated opening his eyes, assuming it could only be the next wave or horror coming to assault him—Greyback's chums or Wormtail's reinforcements.

He was suddenly dragged upward by the shoulders and enveloped in a warm embrace that caused the wound on his chest to flare with renewed pain.

"Oh, Draco, thank God you're alive," Hermione Granger's voice breathed in his ear. He smiled in bemusement. How the hell had she found him? He opened his eyes, after all, and saw Harry Potter standing over him. Beyond Potter stood two Weasleys, Lupin, and the pink-haired Order girl. Lupin was hovering over Greyback and Pinkie held her wand ready to blast the werewolf. Ginny Weasley stood behind Harry, expressionless, and Ron's gaze was ice. The Weasels probably wished Fenrir had eaten him.

Draco allowed himself to melt into Hermione's embrace for a moment, drinking in the scent and feel of her just to spite Ron. She drew back and gripped his shoulder with one hand while the other brushed the dirt and debris from his face. Her shirt was red with his blood.

"What took you so long, Potter?" Draco said wryly. Harry shrugged.

"We had to flip a coin. Heads, save Malfoy; tails, let Malfoy rot."

"Lucky me it was heads, eh?" Draco said. He jerked a thumb. "Wormtail is caged over there."

His eyes met Hermione's for the first time and he felt a strange rush of emotion at the look in her brown eyes, which were bright with unshed tears.

"You look terrible," she said quietly.

Draco frowned. "I thought you'd like my black hair. It's very…Harry Potter, don't you think?"

"I mean, you're covered in blood and you look half-dead. We've got to get you to a hospital."

"We can't," Harry said. "He doesn't dare Apparate in his condition. The last one nearly killed him. We'll have to take him to Hogwarts."

Draco sneered. "I'm fine, Potter." He tried to get to his feet, but found he didn't quite have the energy as everything began to go black. Hermione pressed him back quickly.

"Stay still!" she ordered.

Lupin walked over. "You captured two Death Eaters? Again? They seem to flock to you every time you step out of Hogwarts. Are they attracted to you?"

Draco laughed shortly and jerked his chin at Greyback. "Well, that one certainly was."

"Let's get out of here before he attracts any more," the pink-haired girl said. She held the cage containing Wormtail.

"I'll take Malfoy," Potter said and knelt next to Draco, who tried to wave him back.

"Forget it, Potter. I can ride my own broom."

"Until you pass out and fall to your death. Skip the bravado or I'll simply knock you out."

Harry lifted Draco, who wouldn't have admitted under torture that he was glad the matter had been taken out of his hands. He wasn't entirely certain he would have been able to fly alone. He rested his head on Harry's shoulder and sighed dramatically.

"You've wanted to hold me all day, haven't you, Potter?"

"You know where you can stuff your wisecracks, Malfoy," Harry growled.

Potter stepped over his broom and in moments they hovered in the air. Harry hadn't shifted his grip on Draco. Potter was the only person Draco knew who could have managed it—flying without hands.

Soon they were zipping over the trees. At some point during the journey, Draco succumbed to darkness, safe in the knowledge that the Gryffindor Golden Boy would never drop him.

Hermione hurriedly mounted behind Ron as Harry and Draco took off. Ginny rose into the air on Draco's broom. Tonks carried Wormtail's cage and Lupin levitated the bound and unconscious Greyback beneath his broom.

Hermione chewed her lip with worry. She hoped they had reached Draco in time. He had been white as a ghost and so limp in her grasp she feared they were too late. His shirt was saturated in blood. She remembered Bill Weasley's encounter with Greyback—the wounds had been the devil to close. Madam Pomfrey was not at Hogwarts. She lived in London in the summer and volunteered at St. Mungos. They would have to fetch her.

With that thought, she released Ron with one hand and cast a Patronus that streaked away toward Hogwarts. As the spell shot from her wand, Ron yelped in surprise and Hermione screamed and grabbed him reflexively as the broom dropped several meters.

"Damn, Hermione!" Ron yelled over the rushing wind. "Warn a guy before you do that!" The broom climbed slowly to its former altitude.

"Sorry! I sent a message to McGonagall."

When they reached Hogwarts, Harry was already inside. He was followed by Ginny, who carried their brooms. The instant Ron touched down, Hermione leaped off and bolted, ignoring Ron's shout of protest.

She passed Ginny and caught up to Harry on the stairs.

"He passed out," Harry explained. Hermione raced ahead to the hospital ward to prepare a bed. Harry set Draco down gently and Hermione pulled off Malfoy's bloodied shirt.

Beneath the black hair, Draco's face was nearly as white as the pillow under his head. Harry turned worried green eyes to her.

"He lost a lot of blood earlier today. I don't know how much more he can spare."

HermioneAccioed thick compresses from a nearby cabinet and pressed them against Draco's chest. She prayed for McGonagall to hurry with Madam Pomfrey. Ron and Ginny sat on a nearby bed and watched silently as the cloths became rapidly saturated with Draco's blood.

"It won't coagulate," Hermione whispered. "How did they heal Bill? Why didn't I pay closer attention?"

"It's really advanced healing magic, Hermione. I don't think you would be able to perform it, regardless."

A red-gold shape suddenly burst through the door and circled the room once before perching on the bottom railing of Draco's bed.

"Fawkes!" Harry breathed.

The phoenix hopped forward onto the bed until it stood over Draco. Harry took the compresses from Hermione's hands, exposing Malfoy's raw wound. Fawkes tipped his head and phoenix tears began to drip into the gashes. Astoundingly, the blood stopped flowing and the wounds slowly knitted themselves.

Hermione clasped her hands together in relief. When Fawkes was finished, she scooped up the phoenix in a joyful embrace and planted a kiss on its feathered head.

"You beautiful, beautiful bird!" she cried. Fawkes fluttered in protest and flapped away the instant she released him. It disappeared through the doorway and Hermione looked wonderingly at Harry.

"That's the second time Fawkes has helped us. Do you think Dumbledore told him to watch out for us? Or for Malfoy?"

Harry sighed. "At this point, I don't know what Dumbledore might have done. He apparently kept loads of secrets from us." She couldn't mistake the bitterness in Harry's voice. He continued, "At least our trip was successful, up until the point where Malfoy was taken. We found the locket. It looks like Regulus managed to destroy it before he was killed."

"What locket?" Ginny snapped. "Regulus who?"

Harry flushed. It seemed he had forgotten she was present. Hermione carefully bathed Draco's wounds, amazed that the gashes were now tiny red lines that would likely fade to match the Sectumsemprascars that crossed his chest in the other direction. Hermione's eyes met Harry's and she grinned.

"You might want to have a talk with her," she commented. She noticed a nasty bite mark on Draco's throat, but luckily the skin wasn't broken. There was a dreadful bruise on his left wrist and smaller bruises on his right. It looked as though Greyback had manhandled Draco brutally. He was lucky to be alive.

She could feel Ron's heated gaze on her the entire time she tended Draco and she knew another confrontation was brewing there. Harry got up and motioned to Ginny. They walked to a corner of the room just as McGonagall hurried in with Madam Pomfrey.

Hermione stepped back and allowed them to examine Draco. She quickly explained what Fawkes had done. Madam Pomfrey examined Draco and then hurried to her office. She returned with a number of potions.

"He has lost a lot of blood. This will help him rebuild it, but he will need a lot of rest."

She levered him up with McGonagall's help and forced two potions down Draco's throat. Then she turned and waved at them in a shooing motion.

"Out! I will take care of him from here. There will be no change in his condition for awhile. Thanks to the phoenix, it looks as though he is out of immediate danger. You can visit him later."

Hermione sighed and headed for the door, followed by Ron. Harry and Ginny trailed after them. At the door, Hermione gasped and then turned and ran back to Draco. Madam Pomfrey was removing his boots. She looked at Hermione warningly.

"This belongs to him," she said and pulled the braided cord over her head. She slipped it quickly over Draco's head until the Galleon rested on his chest. She brushed a hand through his down-soft black hair for a moment and smiled softly.

She sighed and joined Ron at the door, leaving Draco in Madam Pomfrey's capable hands.

34 Morning Visit

Ron was waiting for her, as expected. She sighed, wanting nothing more than to go and collapse on her bed and stare aimlessly at the ceiling. The stress of the past few days was taking its toll.

"We need to talk," Ron said, confirming her suspicions.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked in resignation.

"Astronomy Tower?"

The haunt of stargazing lovers and hopeful romantics? She thought not.

"If you don't mind, I've climbed enough stairs today to put me halfway up the Eiger. I'd prefer a lower elevation."

He sighed, but nodded.

"The Charms classroom? It's empty. And maybe I can show you that bubble charm that Fred and George invented."

She acquiesced and they went downstairs in uncomfortable silence. Once in the classroom, she quickly went to the windows and stared out at the growing darkness. She wondered how long it would be before Draco awakened. As if her thoughts had broached the subject, Ron blurted, "What's between you and Malfoy?"

"What do you mean?" she asked evasively. She didn't want to talk about Draco at all, especially when she hadn't even sorted out her own mind when it came to the perplexing Slytherin.

"You know what I mean. You were bloody well frantic to rush off and save him. I've hardly seen you at all since you brought him here. Damn it, you were ready to leap off Gryffindor Tower on Harry's broom to go after him! What the hell is going on?"

"There is nothing 'going on,' as you put it. It's just that I've seen a different side of Malfoy in the past few days and he's… I don't know… redeemed himself. I'm certainly not going to let him be tortured if I can stop it."

Her excuse sounded a trifle lame even to her own ears. She hadbeen ready to ride Harry's broom off the Tower. She would have gone through the forest alone, if need be. The thought of Greyback marring Draco's beautiful flesh—she shuddered. If she had seenthat in the Scrying pool, she probably would have run straight into the forest without waiting for Harry or bothering with a broom. The knowledge made her sigh and lean her forehead against the glass.

Damn it. Maybe there wasn't anything 'going on' between her and Malfoy. But it was possible that she wanted there to be. She longed to be beside him right now, sitting with him and brushing his hair back from his forehead—whether silver or black. She wanted to be there when his devastating grey eyes opened, to see if they would light up with that same sensual glow she remembered…

"Can you even hear me?" Ron demanded and she realized he'd asked her a question. Probably more than once. She pushed herself away from the window and cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

He glared daggers at her. "Were you just thinking about Malfoy?" he snapped. She couldn't stop herself from flushing guiltily. Ron shook his head in disgust and threw up his hands. "Why do I even try?"

He spun and stormed out. For a moment, she started after him, but what could she say? She sighed and walked over to Professor Flitwick's desk. She spied a quill and absently cast Wingardium Leviosaon it. The quill rose into the air and she sighed, remembering Ron's first attempt at the spell. She grinned. He had been painfully inept. And pretty cute with his hangdog expression.

Then, he and Harry had saved her from the troll—their first adventure. There had been so many after that. Quirrell and Tom Riddle and Sirius. Riding Thestrals. Battling Death Eaters. They had done so much together it usually seemed like the three of them against the world. She wondered why Ron had never made a move on her despite numerous chances. She had thought it was simple shyness, but now she wondered. She thought maybe Ron had taken for granted that he had plenty of time—that she would always be nearby, waiting until he was ready. Maybe she would have been. Until Draco.

She cancelled the spell and the feather fluttered back to the desk. She sighed. Maybe she owed Ron a chance. After all, they had been through several kinds of hell in the past six years, and she had despised Malfoy for every minute of those years until… what? Six days ago? Would she really trade six years for six days?

She went out and was nearly bowled over by Tonks. When they righted themselves, Tonks said, "Sorry."

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Hermione asked.

"Fetching McGonagall. We're not quite sure what to do with Greyback and Moody is threatening to rip him limb from limb. Frankly, I'm tempted to look the other way and let him go to it, but Remus…"

Hermione nodded.

"And Wormtail?"

"Still caged. We dare not let him out. Besides, we're not quite sure how to open Malfoy's lock. It seems to be cleverly spelled. Wormtail is lucky Greyback didn't kill Draco or he might have been boxed forever."

Hermione shrugged. "He played the rat for twelve years. It shouldn't hurt him to be caged for a decade or two."

Tonks raised a brow at the venom in her voice, but Hermione didn't care. Peter Pettigrew had much to answer for.

"Moody wants to torture him into giving up You-Know-Who's whereabouts."

"Moody needs to stop acting on pure emotion and think for a moment. Voldemort would never allow that. I'm sure he has Wormtail's mind thoroughly booby-trapped in case of that eventuality. Where are they being kept?"

"In the Hufflepuff dungeon. The dungeons really were prisons before Hogwarts became a school. It was a simple matter to return them to their original state. Fenrir is raving mad. We'll have to do something with him before the next full moon. I'm not sure his current cage will hold him once he changes."

Hermione chilled at the thought of Greyback in full werewolf mode running the halls of Hogwarts.

"There must be a way to contain him. I'll look into it. What happened to Scrimgeour?"

Tonks giggled.

"According to Jack, the Weasley twins arranged a veritable war on the second floor, complete with screaming women, clashing swords, explosions, and cries for help. Of course, by the time they got up there, the twins and their magic had gone—and so had Harry Potter. Scrimgeour was fit to burst and he vowed to conduct a full investigation into McGonagall's 'fitness to remain Headmistress at Hogwarts.'"

"Oh no!"

Tonks waved off her concern.

"Let him investigate. Who else is better qualified? He can bluster all he wants, but I don't think he'll find anyone that will even touch the position. Not with You-Know-Who out there, and after what happened to Dumbledore." Tonks started suddenly. "Oh my, I was fetching her, wasn't I? Better go! Catch you later, 'Mione!"

Tonks resumed her flight up the stairs and Hermione followed at a more leisurely pace. She entered the Gryffindor common room to find Ron missing and Harry and Ginny on the couch engaged in a passionate snog.

They broke off somewhat sheepishly when they noticed her, but she waved at them absently as she continued toward the stairs.

"Don't mind me. Just passing through. Carry on."

She escaped to her room and sat on the window seat. The moon had begun to rise with one edge blurred. In seven days, Lupin would be locked away under the calming influence of the Wolfsbane Potion and Greyback would be tearing at the bars of his cell with inhuman strength. Hermione should be in the library looking for a solution, but she was simply too tired at the moment.

Instead, she went to bed and awoke in the early hours of morning, before dawn had begun to paint the sky. She sat up and glanced across the room. Ginny's hair spilled over her pillow and her breathing was deep and even.

Hermione dressed quietly and padded down the stairs. She was surprised to find Harry sprawled casually on the sofa. She gasped for a moment—between the pose and the hair—still platinum blonde—she had actually thought him to be Draco.

"What are you doing up?" she asked when her heart had stilled.

"Waiting for you," he replied. "Shall we go?"

"Where?"

"To see Malfoy, of course. That's where you're headed, isn't it?"

"Is it that obvious?"

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter." He stood up and shook out his Invisibility Cloak. "We should only need this if Madam Pomfrey is wandering about, which is unlikely at this hour."

The halls were dead silent, as were their trainer-clad footsteps as they descended to the hospital ward. They entered and sat on the bed next to Malfoy's. Hermione watched Draco's chest rise and fall evenly.

"Why didn't they use Fawkes on Bill Weasley?" she asked Harry.

"Maybe they did."

Hermione nodded, realizing they had never learned the details.

"What did you tell Ginny? About the Horcruxes?"

"Nothing. I found a way to silence her questions."

Hermione giggled. "I remember. That won't work forever, you know."

"I know, but hopefully we'll be done with them soon and I can tell her everything." Harry paused and then said, "You know, Malfoy asked if I had ever thought of you… as a girlfriend."

Hermione turned to look at him in surprise. "You two were talking about me? What brought on that subject?"

"We were talking about Ron, actually."

"And what did you say? To Malfoy's question."

"I said no. That you thought of me more as a brother."

Hermione looked at him curiously. She had never really stopped to analyze her feelings for Harry. Now that she tried to put words to it… he wasn't really a brother to her at all. He was… just Harry. If she admitted it to herself, she probably loved him more than any other person she knew. Not in a brotherly fashion, but deeper, somehow. Not in a romantic fashion, either. To her, Harry seemed almost untouchable. Pure and untainted. She didn't think any woman would ever be his match. Not even Ginny Weasley, although Hermione wished her well at the attempt.

"He told me I should kiss you and dispense with those brotherly feelings."

Hermione nearly choked.

"And what did you say?"

Harry looked at the floor.

"You'll probably hate me for it… but I laughed."

"Thank God," she said in relief and laughed, also. His eyes snapped to hers.

"You're not upset by that?"

"Of course not. I care for you more than any brother, I'm sure, but I have absolutely no desire to ever complicate our relationship to that degree. It's difficult enough having Ron to deal with."

"And we're back to Ron."

She sighed. "Yes, Ron. Do you think I've been unfair to him? Perhaps I owe him a chance…"

"I think you're looking at it the wrong way."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think a relationship with Ron would be like? Have you ever envisioned it beyond the hand-holding, snogging stage?"

She shook her head. "Not really. I imagine it would be placid and predictable. He's so much like Mr. Weasley. He might protest and start a row when he's upset, but in the end I know he would give in to whatever I desired… Damn it, I would run him over like a stampeding rhino and then hate him for it."

"Like Mrs. Weasley does to Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked.

"Yes. At times she is more like his mother than his wife. I know they love each other, but sometimes I just want to shake Mr. Weasley and ask why he doesn't stand up to her." Hermione sighed. "I don't want to be a termagant."

"You need someone who knows their own mind."

Hermione looked at him wryly and nodded.

"Ron never seems to know what he wants until it begins to slip out of his grasp. Even then, I think he wants it only reflexively."

She looked over at Draco's sleeping form and immediately recognized the contrast. Malfoy always seemed to know what he wanted and went after it with single-minded determination. He would never bow to the will of another. He had done so once, with Voldemort, and rebelled against it so violently it drove him into collusion with his worst enemies.

She looked at Harry and her eyes widened in surprise as his hair suddenly darkened and resumed its natural shade. He grinned wryly and ran a hand through his black locks.

"I felt that. He said it would last twelve hours. I'm somewhat sorry to see it go."

She shook her head. "I'm not. Frankly, it was disconcerting." She turned back to Draco to see his hair shining in a beam of moonlight, restored to its silvery perfection. "Not that he was any less handsome with black hair."

"Of course not," Harry said with a snort. "The git would likely be gorgeous even if he were bald as an egg."

"Glad you recognize that, Potter," Draco said dryly. "Do you Gryffindors ever shut up? It's damned hard to get any sleep with you two prattling on."

Hermione was at his bedside in an instant. Her fingers gently touched his shoulders and she looked into his half-lidded eyes. The maddening smirk was on his lips and she smiled, realizing she had missed even that. She wondered how long he had been awake.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Like I've been mauled by a psychotic werewolf and awakened from a beautiful dream by annoying chatter. I recognize the Hogwarts hospital ward, having been sent here numerous times by… why that would be you, Potter… but what are you two doing here?"

"We came to check on you," Hermione explained.

"And the reason that couldn't wait until morning is…?"

"Madam Pomfrey."

"Ah. I'm sure it had nothing to do with your propensity for sneaking about at odd hours."

"We have to stay in practice," Harry explained. "Can't have our sneaking skills rusting, now can we?"

Malfoy's lips twitched. "I suppose not."

"Besides, I wanted to ask you a question."

"Hence, the real reason for your visit."

"Of course. You don't think I'm concerned about your health?"

"You have been hugging me rather a lot, lately. I thought your heart might have grown a bit fonder than warranted."

"Will you two knock it off?" Hermione snapped, cutting off Harry's retort.

"Fine. Malfoy, you said you found the house where Regulus was killed because you 'remembered the tale.' Was there more to that tale?" Harry asked.

Draco sat up gingerly and Hermione quickly lifted his pillows to provide better comfort. His silver eyes watched her in amusement.

"Thank you, Granger. You'll make someone an excellent concubine."

She glared at him and stiffly returned to sit next to Harry, who grinned at her sardonically. Had she actually been fantasizing about the maddening creature? At least Malfoy always managed to bring her back to crushing reality with a few choice words.

"What do you want to know?" Draco asked.

"Who killed Regulus Black?"

"According to my mother, three Death Eaters were sent to do him in. Magnus Bole, Adan Pucey… and Severus Snape. Only Snape returned. Regulus apparently killed Bole and Pucey."

Harry nodded. "Interesting that Snape was the only surviving witness."

"Isn't it, though? I suppose it's possible that he and Regulus had a small chat about Horcruxes prior to the coup de grace."

"Which would explain how Snape knew about them." Harry stood up. "I was just curious. We should let you rest."

"Potter?"

Harry turned back.

"The letter from my parents… Did you catch the part about Hogwarts not being safe?" Draco asked. Hermione's gaze flew to Harry. Draco had let him read the letter? Harry nodded. Draco's eyes closed. "You need to consider that. And ask why Wormtail and Fenrir Greyback were in the forest, so nearby. Put Granger on the task. I'm sure she hasn't been in the library in the past twenty minutes. She's likely going into withdrawal."

"Is it absolutely necessary to talk about me as though I'm not in the room?"

Draco grinned widely.

Harry sighed and started out. Hermione stood up and leaned over Draco. She waited until his eyes opened a crack.

"You're bloody infuriating when you want to be." She pressed her lips softly against his. "But, I'm very glad you're here."

She followed Harry out.

35 Pensieve, Parchment, Party

Harry wasn't tired enough to go back to bed and Hermione seemed agitated after their visit with Draco.

"Never a dull moment with Malfoy, is there?" Harry commented mildly.

"He's bloody annoying, exasperating, and impossible to understand," Hermione snapped. Harry nodded thoughtfully. She would never have to worry about a placid, predictable relationship with that one.

"Want to go up and use the Pensieve before McGonagall wakes up?" he asked. Hermione nodded and in short order they found themselves standing before the basin. Harry shook the vial experimentally and dumped it in.

Strangely, this memory took place outside, near the lake. Hermione popped into existence next to Harry. Dumbledore was absently conjuring handfuls of grain and scattering it on the lake for the ducks that greedily snapped up the treat. Snape, of course, stood beside him.

"Why didn't you bring the damned thing to me?" Snape said bitterly. "It was stupid of you to destroy it alone. You're lucky I was able to stop the curse before it took your whole arm. Or worse."

"Will you stop nagging me like a mother hen?" Dumbledore said impatiently, although he raised his withered hand and looked at it with a grimace. Harry realized with a start that the memory was recent—it must have been right after Dumbledore had destroyed the ring Horcrux. "I'm aware of my failings."

"No, I really don't think you are," Snape said with his usual sneer. "Next time you have the urge to traipse off after a Horcrux, you should bloody well take someone with you. If you don't trust me, then take your little Gryffindor hero. Isn't it past time you started letting him in on some of your secrets? The brat's nearly of age."

"I'm certain Harry would agree with you."

"Well, that would be a first, wouldn't it?" Snape's black eyes flashed.

"Why do you hate the boy so much?" Dumbledore asked tiredly and then held up a hand to forestall Snape's reply. "Never mind. I don't wish to get into another argument about Potters and purebloods and perceived wrongs. I thought your opinion had softened somewhat, after Sirius."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Not in regards to Potter. Frankly, I don't see why you fancy those Gryffindors so much, except for their insane propensity to race headlong into danger without a moment's thought for the consequences." Snape looked pointedly at Dumbledore's withered hand. "Rather like you, I suppose. Gryffindor to the core, are you not?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Guilty as charged."

"Yes, well, as Headmaster, I would expect you to place a bit more value on some of the students in Houses other than your own."

"Several students joined 'my Gryffindors' last year, including some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, I believe."

"Yes, well, Cho Chang was smitten with The Boy Who Lived and Luna Lovegood is hardly a prime example of a Ravenclaw. What of Slytherins? Are none of them are worthy to stand beside The Chosen One? Potter's opinion seems to be quite tainted in that regard."

"And who would you choose to stand beside Harry Potter against Voldemort? Frankly, most of your Slytherin students seem more likely to carry banners proclaiming Voldemort's imminent reign than stand up to prevent it."

"I've done my best—" Snape began.

"You've done your best to encourage the same purebood nonsense they believe Voldemort stands for!" Dumbledore snapped. Snape's face flamed.

"It isn't nonsense! My most talented students are purebloods—"

"As are the most imbecilic! If purity of bloodline equals talent, then how to you explain Crabbe and Goyle? Without young Malfoy's assistance, they would have been tossed out of school years ago!"

Snape sniffed. "They have the talent. They just do not apply themselves."

Dumbledore glared at him. "You are babbling nonsense. Explain Hermione Granger."

It was Snape's turn to scowl. "An aberration. Freak coincidence."

Hermione balled up her fists and punched Snape in the stomach. Her fist went right through the vaporous memory without effect, but Harry grinned, applauding the effort.

"Aberration. I'll give you an aberration, you horrible, small-minded—"Hermione began, but Harry hushed her in order to hear the rest of the memory. She folded her arms and glared daggers at Snape.

Dumbledore dragged his good hand through his hair in a credible imitation of Harry Potter.

"Enough! This discussion has not been resolved in over fifteen years."

Snape grinned evilly. "And yet you continue to bring it up."

"I keep hoping that you will see the error of your ways," Dumbledore said sadly.

"As do I," Snape replied with a superior air.

The two were silent for a time and Dumbledore went back to feeding the ducks. Finally, Snape asked, "Do you intend to go after another Horcrux?"

"Possibly."

"Do you agree that you will not go alone, next time?" Snape asked blandly. Dumbledore looked at him suspiciously.

"Out with it, man," he said. Snape shook his head.

"Not without your promise."

"Fine. I promise to take at least one other person on my next Horcrux hunt," Dumbledore said with finality.

"Excellent. Then, I may know where you can find one."

Dumbledore stopped feeding the birds and turned his full attention to Snape.

"There is a cave by the sea…"

The memory ended, likely because Harry knew the rest. He staggered to the window seat and sat down. Each memory seemed to have its own frisson of horror. Hermione sat next to him and took his hand.

"Snape arranged the visit to the cave. He also made sure I went with Dumbledore. So that I wouldn't be here to stop Malfoy. I was the only one that suspected what he was up to…"

"Except us," Hermione whispered. "We were here. We should have been able to stop him."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think you could have. Snape was helping him." He got to his feet. "We need to talk to Malfoy and find out what Snape knew."

"Why?" Hermione asked woodenly and pulled him back down. "What difference will it make except to satisfy your curiosity? We know what Draco did. We know what Snape did. Learning how it all played out won't change anything."

"Everything involving Snape is suspect. Didn't you tell me it was Snape that told Malfoy Hufflepuff's cup was at the Riddle house? Why did he do that? Why did he kill Dumbledore? Why did he rejoin Voldemort if he is still opposing him?"

"Do you really think Malfoy will be able to answer those questions?"

Harry dragged a hand through his raven locks and sighed explosively.

"No. Damn it. Dumbledore couldn't even figure out Snape."

Hermione nodded. "I think our time will be better spent pondering the warning from the Malfoys. Why should Hogwarts be unsafe? And what were Greyback and Wormtail doing in the forest?"

"How can we possibly find the answer to those questions?"

"I'm not sure. But I think we should start with the Marauder's Map."

Harry dropped to his knees on the floor and spread the map out on his bed. Hermione sat on the bed next to the map and her hair brushed the parchment as she leaned over it.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry said and tapped the map. Lines appeared and darkened. "What shall we look for?"

"Let's start with a general search of each floor, starting at the top and working our way down," Hermione said. Ron sat up, roused by their quiet voices.

"What's going on?" he asked sleepily.

"We're checking out the map to see who is hanging around Hogwarts," Harry said absently. Gryffindor Tower was first, and showed the three of them in the boy's dormitory. Ginny Weasley was in the girl's. The map lines blurred and reformed, showing them Ravenclaw Tower. In one room, the names Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks nearly overlapped. Hermione blushed.

"I didn't really need to see that," Harry commented and chuckled.

Another room contained Jack Williamson and Alastor Moody. Neither overlapping, nor even close to each other, Harry was glad to see. Hestia Jones was walking through the Ravenclaw common room and they watched as she exited to the corridor and headed downstairs.

A quick sweep of the castle showed nothing unexpected. Draco Malfoy still slept in the hospital wing, tended by Madam Pomfrey. Minerva McGonagall was in the Transfiguration Classroom. Peter Pettigrew and Fenrir Greyback were both safely contained in the Hufflepuff dungeons. Harry sighed.

"It looks safe enough to me," he said.

Ron had crawled over to sit on the other side of the map from Hermione. He rubbed his eyes with a thumb and blinked at the map.

"Go deeper," Hermione suggested. "Look at the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry scanned the map until he located Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and then moved the map view deeper, exposing a warren of chambers beneath the school. Most of them twisted, mazelike, and opened into each other. Harry looked up at Hermione.

"How is it that Fred and George never found the Chamber of Secrets with this map?"

Ron answered with a snort. "Did they care? They thought the whole Heir of Slytherin thing was a huge joke. Remember when they kept prodding you about being the Heir?"

"Until Ginny was taken."

"Yeah. And then they were too worried to think about the map. Plus, Mum wouldn't let them out of her sight long enough to use it."

"Too bad we didn't have it until Third Year. Why did Fred and George give it to me, anyway? I know they had all the passages memorized, but it was bloody useful to know where Filch was while sneaking out."

"Oh, they nicked it from you whenever they needed it," Ron commented. "It's not like you hid it. You usually had it jammed it your trunk there, eh?"

"They rooted through my personal items?" Harry said indignantly. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Do you recall who you're talking about? They would root through the personal items of the Minister of Magic for a previously chewed piece of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. Be glad they always returned the map."

Hermione giggled. "Goodness, Harry, you act like we're the only one allowed to sneak around. The twins probably did so ten times more than we did."

Harry shrugged. "I suppose. I don't see anything in the Chamber of Secrets. It's deserted." He sighed in frustration.

"That's a relief, anyway. I was afraid Voldemort or some Death Eaters had managed to sneak into the school and were hiding there. None of us would be the wiser."

"Maybe we should set up some sort of proximity alert. In case that ever happens."

Hermione shuddered. "I'd rather not go down there. From your description, it sounds dreadful."

"It was. Maybe you can put your brilliant mind to it and think of a solution."

"Maybeyou can take a nap. You're getting snappish."

"I'm not getting snappish!" Harry snapped.

Hermione looked askance at Ron, who grinned.

"Not at all, mate," Ron said insincerely. Harry scowled and tapped the map sharply.

"Mischief managed." He rolled the parchment and tucked it back into his trunk.

"Well, I'm for some breakfast. Do you two plan to join me?" Hermione asked.

Draco was out of bed by late afternoon. He had pretended to sleep each time visitors approached. Granger and Potter returned around noon. Next it was Lupin. And finally McGonagall, but none of them tried to awaken him. He waited until Madam Pomfrey padded off before he slid his feet to the floor and sat up.

Vertigo assailed him, but he fought it. He had slept enough and was sick of being bedridden. His blood supply would replenish itself whether he lay around like a limp sponge or not.

His clothes were missing. Pomfrey was clever that way. She hated to have her patients sneaking out before she was ready to release them. Draco surveyed the blankets on the bed and grimaced. Wool. He sighed. He had no intention of parading around Hogwarts draped in scratchy wool blankets. He'd almost rather stroll back to the Slytherin dungeon in the altogether. Transfiguring them would be a hassle.

The thought of walking around naked brought Hermione to mind. He had noticed the return of his coin immediately upon waking.

Granger, he sent.

You summoned?

I need some clothes.

Really? Whatever for?

I know you prefer me unclothed, but walking about naked might offend some of the more inhibited females in the building.

You're grouping me with the uninhibited females?

You're the one that came down to my room and pounced on me.

Pounced? He grinned, sensing volumes of indignation in the word.

Delicately tried to seduce? he corrected.

Your ego certainly hasn't suffered any injury. I'll be right there.

He settled himself back on the bed, propped his arms behind his head, and waited.

Hermione arrived a surprisingly short time later.

"Did you run?" he asked as she set the folded clothing on the end of the bed.

"No."

Draco tossed the sheet aside, making certain he kept his gaze on Hermione's face. She blanched at the sight of him clad in nothing but black silk boxers. He refrained from grinning, with effort, and reached for the clothing. He was careful not to move too quickly.

"You shouldn't be up at all," she said. "Where is Madam Pomfrey?"

"She went to fetch something from the greenhouse. I plan to be gone by the time she gets back." Draco pulled on the white long-sleeved t-shirt. He followed it with a pair of charcoal grey trousers that fit perfectly. He noticed a smile playing about Granger's lips and looked at her suspiciously.

"Where did you get these?" he asked. Her smile widened.

"I borrowed them from Harry. It seems you're exactly the same size."

"I doubt that," Draco said archly and Hermione coughed when she caught his meaning. He chuckled to himself and was glad to see his boots near the foot of his bed. He donned Potter's socks and tugged his boots on, fighting a wave of dizziness when he sat upright. Hermione hurried around the bed to help him.

He waved her back impatiently and she sighed in exasperation.

"Why are you even out of bed? You look like you're barely able to stand."

"Because I'm a stubborn bastard, remember?" he asked and stood up defiantly. "Did Potter look at that locket?"

"We both did. Regulus destroyed it properly, thank goodness."

Draco nodded and bypassed her to head for the door.

"Malfoy—"she started.

He spun around with a flare of annoyance and walked back to her. He clenched his fists at his sides in order to keep from touching her. Merely standing this close to her probably constituted a violation of his promise to Weasley.

"Back in the forest," he said, "You called me Draco. Do you remember?"

Her eyes were huge pools of liquid chocolate.

"I remember," she breathed. "Draco…"

The sound slid over him like a caress. He closed his eyes and cursed Weasley to the ninth level of hell. As if conjured by his thoughts, the door opened and Ron stalked into the room. Draco could tell it was him by the agitated sound of his footsteps. Draco opened his eyes to see Hermione's hand, which had been reaching out to touch him, fall back to her side.

"I thought I'd find you here," Weasley said dryly. Draco turned to look at him and Ron's gaze met his with a flash of warning. Malfoy shrugged. Ron continued, "Neville is here. And Luna, and Susan Bones."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Thought they'd be safer here, I suppose. Neville's gran is still at St. Mungo's, but Neville can't stay there and they won't let him go home. Too dangerous. Luna's dad doesn't want her left alone. And Susan… well…"

None of them spoke. They all knew Amelia Bones had been horribly murdered, leaving Susan one of the unlucky few whose entire family had been eradicated by Voldemort.

Hermione hurried out and Draco followed at a more leisurely pace. As he passed Ron, Weasley's hand shot out and grabbed his sleeve.

"I thought you agreed to stay away from her," Ron muttered.

"I have," Draco said mildly, meeting Ron's stormy gaze with a hint of amusement. "You might to discuss the matter with her. She doesn't seem to be aware of your rules."

Weasley flushed and Draco allowed no satisfaction to touch his features, but he knew damned well that Ron wouldn't dare forbid Hermione to stay away from Draco. She would verbally slice off his head and hand it to him on a platter.

A quick jerk removed his sleeve from Weasley's grasp and Draco walked stiffly out the door. His right leg still hurt like the devil. It would most likely be sore and aching for a few days, until the memory of the break and impalement faded.

Everyone seemed to be in the Great Hall. Nearly all of the Order was present and the atmosphere seemed almost festive.

Hermione was talking animatedly to Neville, who started in surprise when Draco entered. Luna, standing next to Longbottom, caught sight of Draco and fairly danced across the room to fling her arms around Draco's neck.

She planted a lipsticky kiss on his cheek and fairly choked him.

"I never thanked you properly for saving me," she said. Draco tried to disengage her arms from his neck without success.

"Consider me properly thanked," he said, somewhat worried what a proper thanking might be to Luna.

"No, no. I have to do something for you."

Terrifying idea. "Fine. Give it some thought and get back to me. Take your time."

Luna sighed and released him. She stepped back and looked at him critically. Her radish earrings dangled when she cocked her head to the side.

"You're terribly pale. Have you been attacked by vampires? I can make you a garlic necklace to ward them off."

"You do that," Malfoy said absently. His attention had been snared by the approach of Neville Longbottom. The Gryffindor boy seemed different. He was two hand spans taller than Draco and his visage was serious and subdued. The anxiousness that used to occupy his features was gone.

Neville stepped forward and stretched out his hand to Draco.

"They told me what you did. You saved my life," Neville said seriously.

"Mine, too!" Luna cried and clapped her hands.

Malfoy reluctantly allowed Neville to shake his hand, but Neville stepped close and wrapped his left arm around Draco's shoulders. He hugged Draco tightly for a moment and Malfoy grimaced uncomfortably. Damned overemotional Gryffindors.

"Thank you," Neville said sincerely.

"You aren't going to kiss me, are you?" Draco asked wryly and Neville released him and stepped back as if burned.

"No, of course not!"

"Thank God. It's bad enough when Potter does it."

"Wha—?" Neville gaped at him.

"Joking," Draco said and rolled his eyes. Longbottom was such a thickwit. Malfoy brushed past him to stand next to Potter, who was talking with a girl Draco barely recognized.

Susan Bones had been a slightly pudgy, round-faced girl with a long plait of light brown hair, freckles, dancing brown eyes, and a ready smile. The freckles were all that remained of that girl. Susan was now thin as a rail. Her hair had been hacked off and stuck out from her head in a halo of brown spikes. Her eyes were hard and frigid as she looked at Malfoy with sheer contempt. Her lips were a thin line.

"I thought you were a Death Eater," she snapped.

"Not really," Draco said tonelessly.

"Aren't you directly responsible for Dumbledore's death?" she continued harshly.

Draco looked at Harry Potter with a pained expression and forced a sarcastic smile.

"I suppose I am. Great party. I think I'll go hang myself, now."

Draco turned and left the Great Hall. He wondered what had prompted him to join the bloody gathering. There were too many people and most of them had strong opinions about Draco Malfoy. He was either a hero or pariah. Frankly, he didn't give a damn what any of them thought.

"Malfoy, wait!"

Draco groaned and kept walking. She had to make it difficult for him, didn't she?

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked when she caught up to him. He stopped, but didn't look at her.

"Go back to your friends, Granger," he said tiredly.

"Not without you."

"Forget it. I don't belong in there."

"Of course you do!"

His head snapped up and he glared at her.

"Damn it, when will you stop trying to make me into something I'm not?" he cried angrily. "Everything I've done has been for my own selfish reasons! You're intelligent enough to figure that out, once you stop letting your overactive imagination control your thinking!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed at his outburst.

"What do you mean by that?" she demanded.

"You know what I mean. You've turned me into some sort of fantasy hero. I'm not a pale shadow of Harry Potter and I never will be! Go back to your Gryffindors, Granger, and leave me alone."

He stalked off. As an afterthought, he yanked at the cord holding the Galleon and flung it to the ground. He didn't look back as he fled to the Slytherin dungeon.

36  Founders

Hermione picked up the coin from the floor and looked after Draco in dismay. She wondered what had brought on that outburst. Draco had been acting so strangely, lately. She sighed and traced the coin with her fingers as she pondered his words. Was she really trying to turn Draco into 'a pale shadow of Harry Potter?' She scowled. Why did he have to be so damned complicated? He was completely infuriating and prickly as a hedgehog today. Even in the hospital wing he'd been avoiding her, until she'd apparently annoyed him by calling him Malfoy.

I don't belong in there.

His words touched a nerve. Would Draco always feel like an outcast? She heard footsteps approach and then Harry stood beside her.

"Is Malfoy okay?" he asked.

She looked at him seriously and shook her head. "I don't think so. He stormed off to the Slytherin common room."

"Are you going to go talk to him?"

"He doesn't seem to want me around. I wish he would tell me what is really bothering him."

"Susan Bones just accused him of being a Death Eater and murdering Dumbledore," Harry commented. She considered that for a moment and then rejected it as the cause of Draco's distress.

"He hears that all the time. Moody still wants to turn him into a Christmas pudding. He's never been bothered by insults, before. Except yours."

"No, I think he actually likes my insults. They give him a good excuse to retaliate."

Hermione sighed. "I think the strain is getting to him. He's out of his element. We all have each other and he feels that he has no one. He's used to being perceived as an insufferable bully and now that we see him as a fellow human being, he's not sure how to react."

"So he lashes out in typical Malfoy fashion."

"Yes. I think he desperately wants to let down his guard, but he's terrified of being hurt."

Harry looked at her in amazement. "How do girls even think of things like that? I thought he was just pissed because he can't snarl vile insults and make himself feel superior."

"That is so typically male," Hermione said and rolled her eyes. "Besides, he doesn't really have to restrain himself if he wants to insult someone. There is always Ron."

"Yeah, there is always Ron," Harry repeated, but something in his tone made her look at him sharply.

"What?"

Harry shrugged and said, "Nothing," but his green eyes slid away from hers. She put her hands on her hips.

"Harry James Potter, if you know something about all of this, you'd better spill it right now."

He looked decidedly guilty.

"Look, I don't know anything. It's only a suspicion based on something Malfoy said at the Hog's Head."

"Which was?"

"Malfoy mentioned that he owed Ron a favor. Because Ron saved him from the Carrows at Snape's house."

"Draco owes Ron a favor?"

Harry nodded, but Hermione couldn't quite make the connection to Harry's suspicion.

"And what did Ron ask for?"

Harry flushed. "I don't know. Malfoy didn't say. As I told you, it's only an idea."

Hermione wasn't listening, knowing it would take a devilish amount of prying to get Harry to cough up a straight answer. What could Malfoy possibly have that Ron would want? Well, money, obviously, but she couldn't picture Ron asking for that even under torture. He was far too proud. What else? Draco's broom?

She scowled. No, it had to be something that would cause Draco to lash out like a cornered fox. What if it wasn't something Draco had, but something he could do? What could Ron ask Draco to do? Avada Kedavra himself, of course, but in lieu of that… She glanced at Harry, who waited expectantly. Something finally clicked.

"He didn't," she said in realization. Harry watched her perceptively, but said nothing. She narrowed her gaze at him and continued evenly, "Tell me Ron didn't warn Malfoy away from me."

Harry shrugged and then nodded tentatively. "It wouldn't surprise me."

Hermione felt such a rush of rage she was surprised her hair didn't crackle from the force of it.

"I. Will. Kill. Him," she decided and spun on a heel.

Harry grabbed her arm and halted her. "Don't do anything rash!"

"Rash? Who the hell does Ron think he is? I am not his property!"

"Ron is afraid of losing you," Harry said lamely.

"He never had me to lose, Harry!"

"I know that, but I don't think Ron does." He paused and then forged ahead. "How do you feel about Malfoy, anyway?"

Hermione shied away from the question. She wasn't ready to examine her feelings about Draco, and especially not before Harry Potter. "I don't know. Everything is so confusing right now. Besides, I think the most important thing is to ask how Malfoy feels about us."

"Us?" Harry looked baffled.

"Yes! He chose to come to us. Look at everything he's done! We never would have believed he would help us, but we would be devastated right now if not for Malfoy. My parents would probably be dead; Neville and Luna would be captured and possibly dead. We wouldn't have found and destroyed the cup. We wouldn't have four Death Eaters in the dungeon! Frankly, Malfoy's done more for us in the past week than we've managed with the entire Order in the past bloody year."

Harry's expression was grim.

"Well, Malfoy doesn't seem to realize that."

"Maybe someone should explain it to him," she suggested lightly. Harry looked at her hopefully.

"No, not me. Apparently he's made some sort of noble vow that prevents him from accepting my company at the moment. You go talk to him. I'm going to have a little chat with our friend Ron."

"You won't hurt him?"

"Hardly at all," she said with steel in her voice.

Harry sighed deeply, but obediently headed for the Slytherin dungeon. Hermione called after him.

"Unless he's changed the password, it's apple."

"Apple?"

"You know—garden, tree, serpent… apple. He'll explain it to you."

Harry shook his head in bemusement and disappeared. Hermione set her jaw and went to find Ronald Weasley.

Draco lay on the couch in the Slytherin common room, feeling perfectly miserable. He shouldn't have lashed out at Hermione. His current black mood was definitely not her fault. If anyone had proven to be firmly on his side, it was Granger. He had little doubt that she had been the one to instigate his rescue in the forest. He still didn't know how she'd managed to find him.

He sighed, already regretting the loss of the Galleon. What had possessed him to throw it down like a spoiled child? He should probably go find her and apologize. Except that he hated apologizing. And Ron Bastard Weasley would take him to task for it. Bloody hell, he should have just let the Carrows torture him. It would have been less painful in the long run.

Draco heard footsteps approaching and realized he should have changed the password. He really hadn't expected Hermione to follow him. To his surprise, it was Harry Potter who appeared at the end of the sofa.

"Hey, Malfoy," Potter said casually, as though wandering into the Slytherin common room was an everyday occurrence for The Chosen One.

"That will teach me to give a Gryffindor the password," Draco said dryly. "Did she put out a newsletter?"

"Relax. She only told me because she thought you didn't want her around."

"Perceptive, as always," Draco said. He watched Harry curiously, wondering why he was here. Had Granger sent him down for a pep talk? If so, Potter's heart didn't seem to be in it, which wasn't surprising. Harry wandered around aimlessly, peering at Slytherin bric-a-brac.

"It's hideously dark in here," Potter commented. "How do you stand it?"

"Slytherins appreciate the dark."

"So do I, but in moderation."

Draco gestured to the walls. "Normally, those are spelled to resemble windows that reflect the actual conditions outside. It's usually bright as Gryffindor Tower in here. Since I'm the only one in residence, they seem to have dispensed with such trivialities."

Harry made a noncommittal sound and spelled a dozen or so candles and sconces into light.

"Feeling any effects of Greyback's attack?" Harry asked nonchalantly.

"No. Nothing."

"Bill Weasley said he didn't feel any different, except that he had a craving for very rare meat."

"I eat my steaks that way already, so I probably won't notice a thing. What are the odds of you leaving me in peace?"

"Not in your favor."

"Shouldn't you be up there with your friends?"

"They can wait. This can't."

Draco wasn't sure he wanted to know what 'this' constituted. He folded his arms beneath his head in an affectation of boredom. Harry sat down on a nearby chair, sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

One, Draco counted automatically.

Harry said, "Remember our first year, before we were sorted? You wanted to be my friend simply because I was famous."

Draco scowled, not appreciating the reminder of that particular memory. "That was before I discovered what a git you are."

"That was before you annoyed me by insulting Ron Weasley. You know, I've often thought about what would have happened if I'd never met Ron and had no preconceptions about the different Houses. Did you know the Sorting Hat wanted to put me into Slytherin?"

Draco laughed shortly and shook his head in amazement.

"You? The quintessential Gryffindor? That would have been hilarious."

"Seriously, it nearly happened. If it had, who do you think I would have been most likely to befriend?"

"Montague?" Draco asked archly. Harry ignored that.

"And think about this. When it comes to Voldemort, some unavoidable destiny seems to have been laid upon me. I don't think I would have escaped it simply by being sorted into a different House. I believe I would have had to stop Quirrell, and Tom Riddle, and do everything else I've been forced into."

Despite himself, Draco was fascinated by Harry's conjecture.

"You really think you would have had the same adventures as a Slytherin?"

Harry nodded. "I'm positive. I suspect Dumbledore set many of them up as a test of my abilities. I would have needed help, of course, especially to navigate the traps laid for the Stone. You're as clever as Hermione. You would have figured out the Devil's Snare trap and Snape's potion mystery—and you're the only one I've seen that can beat Ron at wizard's chess…"

Draco sat up and swung his feet to the floor, not liking the path Harry's thoughts followed. "You think I would have helped you defeat Voldemort?"

"Who else? You know I never would have fallen for that pureblood idiocy, even if I were sorted into Slytherin. I don't think youbelieve it any longer, either. If you ever really did."

Draco was silent. He shook his head and looked at Harry. "So, you think we would have been bosom buddies?" he said after a moment, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "You and I?"

"I think it was inevitable." Harry said quietly. His green eyes were wide and sincere. Draco buried his face in his hands. Bloody hell! Why did Potter and his friends insist on wringing every possible unwanted emotion out of a person? Draco quelled the strange leap of sentiment Harry's words had conjured. He looked up and sneered at Potter, but the gesture didn't have its usual potency.

"I'm not your friend, Potter."

Harry smiled in what seemed to be genuine amusement.

"Like hell you're not. You signed up for that position the minute you warned Hermione that her parents were in danger. And the best part is that you did it to yourself. As Hermione pointed out, you've done more for the cause lately than anyone. As well as paid the price."

Draco stood up, agitated by Potter's insinuation. He glared at Harry and tried to drudge up his old feelings of hatred for his nemesis. Potter's sardonic grin helped, but it wasn't quite enough. Draco kept recalling Harry's face at St. Mungo's, grim with concern as he gently handed Malfoy over to the hospital staff. Damn it, Draco didn't want to be one of Potter's loyal followers!

"You're insane, you know that?" he said harshly.

Harry shrugged. "Yes, well, it's entirely Hermione's fault. She seems to like you. Of course, there's no accounting for taste."

"Witness you and the redheaded stick girl." Draco leaped at the change of subject.

"Leave Ginny out of this. We're talking about you and Hermione."

"There is no me and Hermione."

"Do you want there to be?"

"Do you really expect me to answer that?"

"No. Not really." Harry laughed and stood up. "Come on. There's no sense in you brooding alone down here, now that we're starting to miss your aggravating presence when you're not around."

"I wasn't brooding." Draco tried to find a way to refuse Harry.

"Wallowing in self-pity?"

"I hope you find yourself amusing."

Harry chuckled and walked to the fireplace to look at the enormous painting of Salazar Slytherin, who glared down at Potter in barely suppressed rage.

"Think he's rolling in his grave?" Harry asked. Draco hadn't really looked at the painting in a long time. Slytherin wore a grayish undertunic with a black woven cloth belt. A huge black cloak, trimmed in brilliant green, swept back over one shoulder where it was pinned with a simple serpent brooch of hammered silver. In contrast to the plain brooch, the Slytherin locket glittered majestically on his chest. He gripped a wooden staff in one hand and a wand with the other. The signet ring flashed briefly as Salazar moved. As if annoyed by their scrutiny, he disappeared.

Harry shrugged and turned back to Draco. It was common knowledge that the Founders never spoke from their paintings, although no one knew why. Draco started to speak, and then his eyes widened as a thought occurred to him.

"Bloody hell! Follow me, Potter, I just thought of something!"

Without waiting, Draco turned and ran from the Slytherin common room.

Draco took the stairs two at a time. "Where are we going?" Harry called.

"Ravenclaw Tower," Draco replied.

It seemed to take forever and they were both panting with exertion by the time they reached the western tower. Halfway up, a wave of dizziness had nearly overcome Draco, forcing him to pause for a rest and take the steps at a more leisurely pace. He was both relieved and annoyed when Potter made no comment. As they neared their destination, Harry mentioned that he had never been to Ravenclaw Tower, which seemed odd to Draco considering how much time Potter had spent wandering Hogwarts.

"Never? Not even as the honored guest of your old girlfriend, Cho?"

Harry flushed. "She was never really my girlfriend."

"Too bad you weren't sorted into Slytherin. I could have helped you out in the girl department. You desperately need assistance."

"Screw you, Malfoy," Harry said without conviction. Draco grinned. Potter had to know it was true. Cho Chang and Ginny Weasley? Potter had likely barely made it to the snogging stage with either one. Draco would bet half his fortune The Boy Who Lived was still a virgin. He decided to save that topic for later, when there was more time to wind Potter into a froth.

Similar to Gryffindor Tower, a painting blocked the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. No person stared back at them, but a sphinx crouched on desert sands. It gazed at them expressionlessly. When Draco could breathe normally he said, "We seek entrance."

The sphinx inclined its head and said, "A coin is bottled; the bottle then corked. Remove the coin, but not the cork; and break not the bottle."

"A riddle?" Harry asked breathlessly.

"Of course it's a riddle. It's a sphinx. Do you know the answer?"

"Remove a coin from a corked bottle without taking out the cork or breaking the bottle?"

"That's the question, not the answer." Draco grinned. "You really are helpless without Granger, aren't you?" Harry scowled and Draco answered the sphinx. "Simple. You push the cork into the bottle and remove the coin."

The painting swung aside easily.

"No password, but a riddle?" Harry asked.

"Ravenclaws. They love to show off their brainpower."

Draco started inside and Harry followed.

"How did you know? About the riddles, I mean."

"I spent an entertaining evening with a Ravenclaw girl in third year," Draco replied. "She actually devised a chart that showed how different positions—"

"Forget I asked!" Harry said quickly.

"It's your loss," Draco replied and chuckled. "Unfortunately, she transferred to Beauxbatons the following year. Her parents likely found out her primary field of study was male anatomy."

The Ravenclaw common room was currently empty. Most of the Order members were probably in the Great Hall. Draco walked to the huge painting of Rowena Ravenclaw.

"Just as I remembered," he said in satisfaction. Harry stood beside him, puzzled. Rowena wore clothing similar to that worn by Slytherin, except the colors were blue and black. Draco pointed to her wrist. "You suspected that the Dark Lord wanted items from each of the Founders, correct? I noticed the locket and ring on Salazar downstairs and I recalled this bracelet."

A large golden bangle bracelet, inlaid with sparkling sapphires, adorned Rowena Ravenclaw's wrist. She smiled down at them gently and raised her hand. A tiny golden raven charm dangled from the bracelet.

"I'll bet you're right," Harry breathed. "Tom Riddle could have located it the same way he found Hufflepuff's cup, while working at Borgin and Burkes." He sighed. "Now we know what to look for, but not where to look. And that doesn't tell us what he might have that belonged to Godric Gryffindor. Dumbledore swore he had the only two Gryffindor artifacts safely in his office—the sword and the Sorting Hat."

"Maybe we should go look at them."

Harry nodded. "At least there are only a few stairs to navigate. I don't need you fainting away on me."

Draco snorted. "I'm surprised you haven't offered to carry me, as much as you seem to enjoy putting your hands on me."

"In your dreams, Malfoy." Draco hadn't seen that particular expression on Potter's face since the day he arrived. The look of pure disgust caused Malfoy to laugh aloud.

Maybe this whole friendship thing wouldn't be so bad, after all.

37 Irresistible

Hermione returned to the Great Hall and tried to contain her seething anger. There was no need to start a screaming match in front of everyone.

Ron was talking to Luna. Susan Bones and Neville seemed to be arguing vehemently. They were blocking Hermione's path to Ron, so she heard a brief flash of their conversation as she passed.

"…can you possibly defend him?" Susan hissed. "Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater!"

"All I know is that Draco Malfoy saved my life," Neville persisted.

"Do you know that for certain? Or did they just tell you it happened that way?"

Neville drew himself up angrily.

"Are you accusing my friends of intentionally lying? About something like that?"

Hermione paused and looked at them curiously. Her eyes narrowed at Susan, who flushed, even though her face retained its defiant expression.

"Maybe he put them under an Imperius Curse."

Hermione laughed without humor, even though she felt like smacking Susan across the face. She answered for Neville. "Really? If so, it was very clever of him to break his own leg and nearly bleed to death. I'm certain he did that in order to force Harry to rescue him and rush him to St. Mungo's for some nefarious purpose. And then he managed to be captured and dragged into the forest where he could conveniently be mauled by Fenrir Greyback, whom he subsequentlycaptured, by the way, but I'm positive it was all some sort of elaborate plot!"

Hermione's voice had risen to a near shout. Susan and Neville both stared at her as though she had grown two heads. She felt tears of frustration prick her eyes and flung herself about. No wonder Draco didn't want to be here!

"What's got into her?" she heard Susan ask behind her. "I thought she hated Malfoy more than anyone."

She didn't hear Neville's response as she propelled herself forward. She could barely even remember hating Draco. It seemed a lifetime ago. Now, she just wanted to wrap her arms around him and protect him from those who did not understand the sacrifices he had made. Like the person standing before her.

"Ronald?" she asked sweetly, forcing herself to use as normal a tone as possible and not speak through clenched teeth. "May I speak with you for a moment? Privately?"

Ron grinned, not suspecting the effort Hermione made not to snatch a fistful of his red hair and drag him from the room. She kept her eyes fixed on Luna so he wouldn't notice the simmering rage therein. Luna caught it and blinked at her in surprise.

"I must ask Father how to dispel Creeping Parcleps. We seem to have an infestation. I'll send him an owl right away," Luna said absently.

Hermione forced a smile, as usual having not the foggiest notion what Luna was talking about. She didn't care, either.

"Good idea. Come along, Ronald," Hermione said and led the way past Susan and Neville, who were silent and watched her curiously. She led Weasley through the doors and cast about for a private place where no one would hear him screaming for help. She grinned maliciously at the thought, but shoved the notion aside. She must maintain control. Ron trotted to keep up with her purposeful stride.

"Where are we going?" he asked in puzzlement.

"Right over here," she decided, heading for the small chamber where First Years' waited to be sorted upon their arrival at Hogwarts. Hermione didn't think she'd been in the room since that day. The place was quite dusty. Apparently it wouldn't be cleaned until the first day of the next term approached.

She walked to the center of the chamber, trying to collect her thoughts. Ron had halted when the door shut, possibly picking up some of her tension at last. Wisely, he remained quiet, especially when she turned around to give him a scathing glare.

"Tell me something, Ronald dear," she said mildly. "Is it true that Draco Malfoy owes you a favor?"

Ron's gaze shot to the floor at the same time a bright red flush crept into his cheeks to drown the freckles.

"Where…where did you hear that?" he stammered. She could practically envision his brain trying to seek an out, spinning erratically.

"Jungle drums. Is it true?" she demanded.

"Well…I suppose, sort of."

"You suppose, sort of. Did you, perchance, ask Draco for something? In return for this 'sort of' favor?"

"What are you getting at?" he demanded. She glared. Typical Ron. Defend and deny. She marched forward until she stood directly before him. She had to look up a bit to stare him in the eye, but she was not daunted.

"Did you or did you not warn Draco Malfoy to stay away from me?" she asked. With each word, she poked her index finger sharply into Ron's chest. By the end of the sentence, he was wincing.

There was a long silence and then Ron blurted, "Did Malfoy tell you that? He's bloody lying!"

Hermione snatched a fistful of Ron's shirt and pulled him closer.

"No, Ron. Malfoy didn't say anything. He's just been acting bloody peculiar and so I had to ask myself why. When Harry mentioned you owed Malfoy a favor, everything seemed to click into place. Now, suppose you tell me the truth before I plant one of Ginny's Bat Bogey Hexes on you that you won't forget!"

His blue eyes widened and he struggled to pull himself out of her grip. She raised her wand with her free hand and he looked at it fearfully.

"No!" he cried. "You wouldn't do that to me!"

"Oh wouldn't I?" she gritted.

"Fine, you're right! I told Malfoy to keep away from you! But it was for your own protection, don't you see?"

She released him and shoved him away. Ron stumbled, but caught himself before he fell.

"For my own protection?" she yelled. "What can you possibly be trying to protect me from? I'm nearly eighteen years old, Ronald! I've been of age for months. You aren't trying to protect me from anything! You're just being bloody selfish and you know it!"

Ron glared at her. "No, I'm trying to protect you from yourself! You seem to think that Malfoy is oh-so-good, now! How can you possibly feel that way, after the way he's treated you? The way he's treated us? He's rotten to the core and he always will be!"

She shook her head. "You're wrong. You accuse me of being blind, yet you are the one that refuses to believe your own eyes. Look at what he's gone through and tell me you still believe he's a Death Eater!"

"I've been deceived before and I don't plan to fall for it again!" Ron shouted. "Peter Pettigrew pretended to be my damned pet for twelve years, so no! I'm not going to trust that Draco Malfoy has suddenly turned into our best friend after six bloody days!"

"You're telling me that everything he's done has been part of an elaborate ruse?"

Ron groaned and shook his head. "Probably not everything. I think running into Greyback was unexpected, but yeah, I think it was pretty convenient that Wormtail snatched him up and took him into the forest. It's totally possible that was prearranged."

"Even though Draco looked more like Harry at the time, as well as the fact that Wormtail could just as easily have snatched Harry Potter himself? Think for a moment, Ronald. Stop trying to justify your hatred."

"I don't need to justify it!" Ron snarled. "I can hate him without any justification at all. But don't you find it interesting that he managed to warn you about your parents, but he couldn't do anything to tell us about the Burrow?"

Hermione couldn't explain that, so she didn't try. Maybe Malfoy could have told them and chose not to. She only had Draco's word that he hadn't known in time. She sighed.

"I don't know, Ron. If you're determined to hate him, then so be it. But leave me out of your machinations from now on."

"Machinations? Now, I'm the bad guy for trying to keep you from getting hurt?"

"How am I in danger of being hurt, Ron?" she asked placidly. Ron scowled and kicked at an invisible piece of debris on the floor.

"I don't know," he muttered. "It just seems like you're spending an awful lot of time with Malfoy. What happens if you…fall in love with the bastard, or something?"

"Then I suppose I'll have my little heart crushed, won't I?" She walked forward and put her hands on Ron's shoulders. "It's my risk, Ron. You can't force people to feel what you want them to feel."

Ron's blue eyes reflected pain and defeat.

"You'll never love me, then?" he asked sadly.

"I do love you," she insisted, gripping him tightly. "Very much. Just not in a romantic, passionate way."

"I should never have gone with Lavender Brown," he said morosely. "I only did it to make you jealous."

She grinned. "Well, you did seem to enjoy your neverending snogfest at the time, Won."

He flushed. "It wasn't her I wanted to kiss, at all. It wasyou."

"I know." She sighed. "Time has a way of changing everything, doesn't it?"

Ron suddenly put his hands on her waist, leaned down, and kissed her. He put everything he had into it, sliding his hands up to pull her against him tightly. She didn't resist, but she also felt nothing but a curious detachment. He released her with an eloquent sigh of regret.

"Nothing, eh?" he asked as she stepped back.

"I'm so sorry," she said truthfully.

"I bow to Malfoy's superior power of attraction, damn him straight to hell."

"You'll release him from whatever stupid vow he made?"

"Yes. Feel free to have yourself a snogfest, or whatever," he said bitterly. He turned and started out. When he reached the door, she called to him.

"Ron?"

He paused. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He said nothing and the door closed softly behind him.

An examination of McGonagall's office revealed no previously undiscovered Gryffindor artifacts. Harry even removed Gryffindor's sword and swung it experimentally a few times. He brandished it toward Draco and hopped forward in a mock feint.

Draco grabbed the blade with both palms and snatched it from Potter's hand with a quick twist. Harry looked momentarily disgruntled. Draco ignored him and flipped the sword in the air. He caught it by the handle and looked at it curiously.

"Typical Gryffindor ostentation. Gaudy design," Draco commented. He tossed it back to Potter, hilt-first. "But it's no Horcrux." Harry scowled and returned the object to its protective case.

"Well, Dumbledore thought Voldemort's snake might be a Horcrux," he commented. Draco snorted.

"It would be pretty darned stupid to make a Horcrux out of a living being. If that's the case, old Snake-face is a lot barmier than I gave him credit for. Just to be safe, I say we chop the snake to pieces." He shuddered. "I hate that bloody reptile."

"We have to find it, first," Harry mentioned.

"Give the Dark Lord time. Sooner or later, he'll find you."

"I'd rather not sit around waiting for that day."

"We need to locate the Ravenclaw bracelet, anyway."

"Maybe Hermione has an idea," Harry said.

"Can you send her one of those Patronus messages? How do you cast that, anyway?"

"I probably should teach you. You could have signaled us from the forest. I'd rather not rely on Scrying in the future. It's a good thing Hermione found your comb, or we would never have located you."

"She took my comb?"

"It's in Firenze's room. I think we sort of left it there in our hurry to rescue you."

"Bloody hell. Now, it probably has centaur contamination!"

"I doubt Firenze will use your comb," Harry said dryly.

"If it did, you'll be buying me a new one, Potter."

"I'll buy you three if you shut up about the stupid comb."

"Fine. Shall we get on with this spell?" Draco demanded, making a mental note to retrieve his comb and have a chat with Hermione Granger about nicking people's personal items. He loved that comb.

Potter walked him through the intricacies of the spell and showed him how to insert the message at the correct point. To demonstrate, Harry cast his Patronus and the silvery stag enveloped Draco for a moment while he absorbed the simple message.

Draco nodded. "Quite clever."

"Dumbledore invented it. Now, let's see you try it."

"No thanks. I've got the mechanics down. Should be a snap if the need arises."

Harry looked puzzled.

"Why not just practice it?"

"Too tired," Draco said nonchalantly. It wasn't the real reason, but he was feeling rather exhausted, even though he'd slept most of the day. "I think I'll go turn in."

Harry looked puzzled, but Draco had no intention of ever letting Potter get a glimpse of his Patronus. He'd have to be flat on the ground with a werewolf carving a furrow across his chest to even think of casting one. He grimaced at the memory.

"We'll figure out something tomorrow, eh Potter?"

"Malfoy, if you want… you can stay in Gryffindor Tower. Everyone else will be there. Luna can't stay in Ravenclaw Tower because the Order is there, and the Hufflepuff dungeon is currently filled with Death Eaters, so…"

Draco paused at the notion and turned horrified eyes on Harry.

"God, no! I'll stay in my nice, quiet, empty dungeon, if you don't mind. But… thanks for the offer."

Draco headed down the steps and back to his room.

He was astonished when he nearly ran down Hermione Granger in the Slytherin common room. She came out of his room as he entered. They stared at each other in shocked surprise for a moment.

"You've decided to transfer to Slytherin, then?" he asked.

"Actually, I just brought you some clothes. I set them on your bed," she replied.

"What clothes? I thought I had quite run out of those. Did I suddenly acquire some?" Draco walked past her and looked at several paper-wrapped bundles that were stacked on the end of his bed.

"Yes. I knew you couldn't retrieve you own, and since you and Harry are nearly the same size… Well, I ordered some from Diagon Alley. They just arrived."

Draco looked at her measuringly and tore open one of the packages. Several silk shirts spilled out in varying colors: pale green, grey, black, and buttercup yellow. He held that one up questioningly.

"Yellow?"

"I thought it would look nice with your hair," she said softly. He raised a brow at the thought of Hermione pondering how he would look in different colors. A wicked smiled curved his lips. Hermione gaze was flitting about the room as she looked anywhere but directly at Draco.

"I can't pay you for these, quite yet," he said.

"I know. Actually, Harry sort of paid for them from his account."

He dropped the shirt and shot her a censured look. "Harry Potter. Lovely. I hate being in debt to Gryffindors."

"I'm a Gryffindor!" she protested.

"Yes, but you're different."

"Now I'm a different Gryffindor? You're the one constantly telling me what a typical Gryffindor I am. Which is it?"

"It seems to change from moment to moment," he decided flippantly.

She sighed deeply. "I should go. I only came here to bring these to you, not to become frustrated by your twisted logic."

"My logic is perfectly straight."

She threw up her hands. "I refuse to argue with you. Good night."

"Granger…wait."

Hermione paused, partially turned, and looked at him expectantly. He walked forward quickly and stood painfully close to her in the manner he knew she hated. She raised her eyes hesitantly.

"Thanks for the clothes," he murmured.

She blushed and looked away. "You're welcome." She paused. "You know, I have something else that belongs to you."

She pulled the Galleon from her pocket and held it up by the braided cord of her hair. It glinted in the flickering light from the lamps as it spun slowly. "Do you want it back?"

"Yes."

She tugged out her wand and then reached up to slide the cord around his neck. He nearly forgot to breathe as she leaned into him. Her wrist brushed the side of his throat and she gripped both broken ends together with one hand. She tapped it with her wand and murmured a repair spell. Her fingers caressed his skin in a feather light touch as she released the braid.

"You know, I've just decided something," he said thickly.

"What's that?"

"To hell with Weasley."

His arms embraced her and his mouth crushed down on hers. She gave a sigh of what sounded like pure relief and he felt her hands slide upward into his hair. God, she tasted incredible. He teased her lips with his, trying to pace himself and resisting the urge to turn and drag her onto his bed. His hands caressed her back and he felt a delicious shudder run through her frame.

Her hands were in his hair and pressed against the back of his neck, holding him against her as she returned his kiss eagerly. Her breath was hot where it mingled with his. Bloody hell, she wanted him as much as he wanted her! His racing pulse thundered in his temples.

He broke their kiss and staggered against her suddenly, overcome with weakness. She gasped and held him up while he regained his balance.

"Draco! You idiot, when was the last time you ate anything?"

He warmed at the sound of his name, even though she'd followed it with an insult. "I don't recall. Last time that Pomfrey woman fed me, I suppose."

"Damn it, you need to eat to regain your strength. You should probably be taking potions, as well. Now, lie down."

"I'd rather pick up where we left off a moment ago."

She blushed. "As would I, but we really don't need you fainting away when the blood leaves your brain, do we?"

"Malfoys don't faint," he grumbled, but he sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling blackness licking at the edges of his vision. He was hungry, now that she'd mentioned food.

"Get undressed and I'll fetch you a tray."

He raised a brow at her words and suppressed a grin. "I don't think I can undress myself. I'm feeling quite weak."

She looked at him suspiciously. He tried to look helpless.

"I don't believe you for a minute," she said, but she reached for the arms of his shirt, anyway. She succeeded in stretching the material and finally knelt slightly to grasp the fabric around his waist. Hermione pulled the white shirt up and over his head and then stared at him for a moment. Draco grinned wickedly as her eyes skimmed over his frame and back up to his hair, which currently crackled around his head in an electric halo. She looked at him with something akin to panic.

"Don't stop now, you're doing so well."

"I can't," she whispered.

He chuckled. "I know; the sight of me will cause you to lose all control and pounce on me in a frenzy of lust, right?"

"I'll be right back with your tray," she said hoarsely and scurried out.

Draco slipped out of his trousers and relaxed back on the pillows. He smoothed his hair down, wishing he had remembered to fetch his comb. He pulled the blankets modestly up to his chest and then pushed them down to a handspan beneath his navel, thankful that his abdomen was flat as a board. He put both hands behind his head and whistled tonelessly while he waited for Hermione to return.

She nearly dropped the tray when she saw him.

"Don't you have pajamas?" she asked.

"Malfoys don't sleep in pajamas."

"Malfoys must catch their death in the winter." She propped the tray over his lap rather brusquely. "Eat everything. Madam Pomfrey had these ready for you. She sent them to the kitchen to be taken with your dinner." She indicated two potion vials that clanked against the bowl.

"I refuse to take those without a glass of La Romanee-Conti. They taste wretched."

"Without a what?" she asked blankly.

A house-elf suddenly popped into the room holding a glass of red wine. It bowed low and handed the glass to Draco, who took it. The house-elf disappeared.

"Useful little creatures, at times," he commented and sipped the glass. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't even get me started on your appalling treatment of house-elves," she said primly and began to fold his new clothing. She opened his trunk and started to put the items away. Draco tucked into his food with the realization that he was famished. Hermione had brought him a huge quantity of roast beef and boiled vegetables.

"What is this?" she asked, walking from his trunk and holding up a small black book. Draco looked at it in surprise. He'd completely forgotten about it after tossing it there when he'd arrived.

"Snape gave it to me. He said it was spells he didn't have time to teach me."

Hermione sat on the edge of Goyle's bed and began to thumb through the book.

Draco warned, "I wouldn't sit there if I were you. If you only knew what Goyle did in that bed…"

She shot to her feet and moved quickly to sit on Draco's bed near his knee. In moments, she was absorbed in the spell book. Draco finished his plate, drained the potions, and sipped at the last of his wine while he watched her. He was pleasantly full, nicely warmed by the alcohol, and perfectly content for the first time in a long while.

"These are really advanced. Most of them are horrible," she commented. He leaned over and plucked the book from her hands. He tossed it on the bedside table.

"Read later. Remove this tray, wench, and let's get back to kissing."

She scowled at him, but lifted the tray and set it on Goyle's bed.

"No more kissing. You need to rest."

"Won't you stay with me? Just for awhile?" he asked softly. He read an agony of indecision on her face and her teeth nibbled at her lower lip for a moment. He added, "I promise not to touch you. I really am tired."

"You promise?" she asked dubiously.

"Absolutely."

"I hate it when you make insane ideas sound perfectly reasonable."

"Itis reasonable. I'm weak as a kitten. Now, come here." He lifted the covers invitingly. Amazingly, she kicked off her shoes and slid into bed next to him. She rested her head on his chest. One hand splayed over the scar left by Greyback. Draco put his arm around her shoulders and sighed in satisfaction. She traced the reddened line gently.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not a bit. Useful birds, phoenixes."

He pressed his lips against her hair and breathed in the damned apple scent of her, wondering what the consequences would be of breaking two promises in one night. In the end, he was simply too tired to do any promise breaking and dropped off to sleep with the reassuring feel of Hermione pressed against him.

38 Wedding Plans

Hermione woke slowly to the delightful sensation of being wrapped in Draco's arms. She pondered leaving for all of five seconds, but realized she couldn't have moved if she wanted to. Her head was lying over Draco's left arm and her hair was trapped quite firmly beneath him. His chin rested against the top of her head and his right arm was flung carelessly over her chest. His right leg lay across her hips, effectively trapping her beneath his delicious warmth. The room was dreadfully cold, she realized.

Her right arm was between them, though her palm lay upon her waist and the edge of her hand touched Draco's bare thigh. Her other hand sat familiarly on his bicep.

She had nearly left him the night before—had gotten out of bed quite late without stirring him, but she had paused to look at him and that had been her undoing. His silver hair had glinted in the candlelight and his features had looked so beautiful and guileless… She had sent Harry a quick Patronus message and transfigured her clothing into pajamas—demure, warm, modest pajamas—and gotten back into bed with Draco.

Now she listened to the even sound of his breathing and felt the steady movement of his chest against her shoulder. She wondered what time it was—the darkness of the dungeon made it bloody difficult to determine that simple fact. She released Draco's arm and raised her wrist to look at the glowing numbers on her watch face. 6:42.

The tiny movement was enough to wake him. The rhythm of his breathing changed slightly and he tensed minutely, most likely in surprise.

"You didn't leave," he murmured.

"Apparently not. Did you want me to?"

He chuckled. "Definitely not."

"How do you feel?"

"You tell me."

She giggled. "You feel nice and warm."

"I feel wonderful. Would you like me to show you?"

Without waiting for her response, Draco levered himself downward in a lithe motion and twisted himself about. The movement ended with him lying half-atop her. His face hovered over hers for a moment and her heartbeat responded instantly to the look in his silvery eyes. She felt like a foolish damsel that had wandered into the dragon's lair. When he lowered his mouth to hers, she found that she didn't care.

After several soul-stirring kisses, he asked, "Do you think it was wise to stay here with me?" Hermione could barely breathe.

"No," she admitted. "It was probably the exact opposite of wise."

He made a noncommittal sound of agreement and proceeded to prove her words true beyond the shadow of a doubt.

An hour later, Hermione's body alternated between icy cold and blisteringly hot. Tremors of mindless desire enveloped her with a nearly physical pain; and all Draco had done was kiss her. She would never have imagined the variety of things one could do with lips, tongue, and teeth, but Draco could have written volumes on the subject. His hands had remained clamped firmly on either side of her waist—she marveled at his self-control and cursed him for toying with her. Hermione's restraint was completely gone. Her hands alternately twisted in his silken hair or gripped the smooth skin of his back and shoulders.

Just when she thought she couldn't take it any more, when she was nearing the point of begging—for what, she wasn't sure—he drew a ragged breath and kissed his way down her neck. Her relief was short-lived.

She didn't stop him when his hands slipped up to undo the first few buttons of her top. She didn't want to stop him. He followed his hands with his lips, button by button, until he reached her navel. His tongue plunged into the hollow and she gasped sharply and arched against him as a new form of desire flooded her senses.

Incredibly, he raised his head. His eyes looked like dusky pools in the near-darkness.

"So," he asked casually, "What shall we do today?"

The incongruous question couldn't quite penetrate Hermione's fogged mind.

"I imagine we can either go search for Horcruxes, or stay here where I can spend a few hours driving you half-mad with indescribable ecstacy."

Hermione thought her heart would stop for a moment and she struggled to find her voice.

"Hours?" was all she managed in a hoarse tone.

She could make out the twist of his incredible, talented lips as he smiled wickedly.

"Of course. You should know I'm not the type to pleasure myself, roll over, and light up a cigar while giving you a dismissive pat on the fanny… It's far more satisfying to bring you to the pinnacle of delight over… and over… and over." With each repetition, his tongue dipped into her navel and she shuddered, having no difficulty believing his words. He chuckled.

"I…" She couldn't seem to form a coherent thought. She knew she should choose the sensible route. Stop him from… hours of driving her half-mad with indescribable ecstacy. Although she really couldn't think of a valid reason why, at the moment.

He laid his cheek against her belly for a moment and her hand touched his sleek hair tenderly. She felt a sudden rush of something that wasn't desire. Something stronger and even more terrifying. She swallowed hard and refused to acknowledge it. Draco sighed.

Hermione held her breath when he raised his head again. His tongue touched her skin once more, sliding upward over the hill of her ribcage, caressing her breastbone, and followed the links of the chain around her neck. His breath was hot in her ear as he nibbled it with his teeth, sending shivers down her spine again.

"You're not quite ready for this, are you?" he asked. His voice wasn't amused or accusatory or disappointed—it was simply matter-of-fact.

"I don't think so," she managed shakily.

"All right, Granger. I'll let you escape with your virtue intact. This time." The words were tinged with amusement.

He pushed himself away from her and rested his head on the pillow. He left one hand on her stomach and his fingertips brushed her ribcage in a teasing caress. She began to fasten her buttons; glad he couldn't see the color of her cheeks in the dim light. She tried to convince herself that she was relieved.

"As I was asking, since you snuffed my first choice—what shall we do today?"

She forced herself not to think of his first choice.

"I do have one idea where we might find a Horcrux, but I don't think we should tell Harry," she said in as normal a voice as possible.

Draco gasped in mock astonishment.

"You? Keeping a secret from The Chosen One? Won't you have to turn in your Gryffindor robes for such an offense?"

She smacked him lightly on the bare chest.

"I have a good reason. But, I've been thinking—"

"When are you not thinking?"

She ignored that.

"I've been thinking about your parents."

Draco's hand on her skin ceased its motion.

"What about them?"

"How safe do you think they are? You've had some very close calls. What if Wormtail or Greyback had escaped to Voldemort with the news that you were alive? What do you think would happen to them?"

"I try not to think about it," he admitted. "But I don't know where they are. Which reminds me—how did you find me when I was in the forest?"

"I used a Scrying pool. Well, Firenze did, actually."

Draco's features twisted. "The bloody centaur?"

She scowled. "Yes, the bloody centaur. If not for Firenze, you would have been a werewolf's dinner."

"No, Fenrir had other plans for me," Draco said absently.

"What do you have against centaurs, anyway? They are intelligent living beings."

"So are Cornish Pixies, but that doesn't make them any less revolting."

"Centaurs are not revolting!"

Draco sneered. "Half-man, half-horse? Think about it! It's a perversion of nature."

Hermione sat up in annoyance and climbed out of his bed. She was almost grateful that they had returned to the comfortable state of continual disagreement.

"Your bigotry knows no bounds," she snapped and transfigured her clothing back into jeans and a T-shirt. She sat down and tugged her shoes on. Draco hadn't moved. She didn't need to look at him to know he was watching her with his patented annoying smirk.

She grabbed her wand and lit several candles before she walked to the dressing table and snatched up his comb. She yanked it through her tangled locks.

"Nice of you to return my comb," he commented.

"I didn't want you to have a panic attack when you noticed it missing."

Her eyes touched his in the mirror and she laughed at his expression. She carefully pulled the accumulated hair from the silver comb and vanished it before dropping the comb back onto the table.

"I'm going to get some breakfast. Are you coming?" she asked.

"I'll be along."

She shrugged and started out.

"Hey, Granger?"

She paused and looked back at him.

"Your shirt—what does it mean?"

Hermione blinked at him. She had unthinkingly turned her shirt into a duplicate of one of her favorites. It said ADIDAS. Almost, she told him the truth—that it was a Muggle company that made shoes. Instead, she grinned wickedly.

"It's an acronym. It stands for All Day I Dream About Sex."

She went out and Draco's incredible laugh followed her. She smiled. He was maddening, but so utterly damned attractive. She began to think virtue was overrated. Hours. God.

Draco watched Hermione leave and the bemused smiled stayed on his lips. He still couldn't quite resolve his astonishment at finding her in his bed. She was braver than he'd thought. His smile vanished at the memory of her warm and willing beneath him. She'd tested his control to its very limit. He wasn't quite sure why he'd stopped. After all, it had been Hermione's decision to stay. She probably wouldn't even have blamed him—afterward.

He realized he didn't want to take the chance. Hermione Granger would never be anyone's casual shag. Draco wasn't quite certain he wanted to sign on for the alternative: Commitment. Relationship. All that crap. He shuddered.

He swung his feet to the floor and sat up, pleased to note that a wave of dizziness did not accompany the motion. Pomfrey's potions seemed to be working. Draco rose and rifled through his new clothing. He spread several outfits out on the bed, admitting that Granger had some bloody good taste where he was concerned. She was even right about the yellow—it would probably look fabulous on him.

Draco wasn't quite ready to dispense with his brooding image, so he chose a silk shirt of charcoal grey and black trousers. He added a black cashmere jumper just because he liked the feel of it. He wet his hair from the nearby pitcher and carefully combed his golden locks back into place, trying not to think about Hermione tangling it in a mindless frenzy.

Damn. He'd probably have to go find Weasley and make some sort of amends. He'd not only broken his promise, he'd drop-kicked it off the parapet and watched it smash into smithereens. Draco grinned. Well, it had been worth it.

He walked into the Great Hall, ignored everyone gathered within, and sat down at his usual spot. A huge array of food magically appeared before him and he ate while casting a glance about the room. No one seemed to have noticed him, as they were all gathered near the teachers' table. Fleur Delacour was the current center of attention as she held up a lacy and sequin-bedecked white gown. Draco noticed the group was mainly female—Fleur, Molly Weasley, Hermione, the redheaded stick girl that Harry liked, and Luna Lovegood. He assumed Susan Bones was off practicing her petulant scowl.

The only other males present were Ron and Bill Weasley, and Bill was sidling away as if trying to make an escape. Bill spotted Draco and—to Malfoy's surprise—quickly strode in his direction. Draco watched him suspiciously and sipped his tea, wondering if he would have to suffer yet another Weasley tirade.

Bill sat down next to him and poured himself a cup.

"Wedding plans," he commented and sighed. "If a man has a brain, he just sits back, smiles, and says, 'That sounds fabulous, dear.' No matter the subject."

Draco didn't comment, deciding he'd rather be back in Fenrir's cluches than stand before an altar and willingly attach a permanent ball and chain to his ankle. Hermione caught his eye at that moment and beamed at him, causing Draco to break out in something of a cold sweat. He pushed his plate away.

"We're going to have the wedding here," Bill continued. "We planned to have it at the Burrow, but… that's not an option any longer. McGonagall says plenty of people have married here during the summer. Popular location, apparently. Fleur can't decide whether to have the ceremony in the courtyard, near the forest, near the lake, or God knows what other location. She wasn't too pleased when I mentioned we could have it in the Slytherin dungeon for all I care. That's when I knew it was time to retreat."

Draco said nothing, wondering why Weasley was talking to him at all. He noticed Ron standing near the women, clearing wishing he could escape, also, but not at all thrilled with the option Bill had chosen—Draco's company. Malfoy returned his gaze to Bill, who was clearly the handsomest of the Weasley clan, even with the jagged group of scars that marred one side of his face. His hair was coppery and pulled back into a lengthy ponytail. His blue eyes slanted to meet Draco's.

"If you're finished, will you take a walk with me?"

Draco shrugged and nodded. Bill rose and Malfoy followed, cocking a brow when they headed for the entrance to the Hufflepuff dungeon. The corridors were dark, but not nearly as mazelike as on the Slytherin side. Cressets flared into light ahead of them as they walked. Before long, they stood before a barred gate. The walls glowed magically with a bluish light and Draco watched as Fenrir Greyback got to his feet and walked to the bars to peer out at them.

"Visitors, eh? Why, if it isn't little Malfoy and a Weasley." Greyback's eyes narrowed at Bill in recognition. Draco felt a sudden odd kinship with the tall Weasley. He realized that he and Bill might be the only two of Fenrir's victims that hadn't been killed or turned into werewolves. "Back for more?"

Bill didn't speak, but the look in his eyes was cold. He turned and continued up the corridor. Draco looked at Fenrir for a moment longer. Captivity didn't seem to have affected the werewolf much. Greyback's fangs showed in a horrible smile.

"Just a few more days, Draco. A few more days and these bars won't hold me. Then, I'll be looking for you and your new little friends. Your tasty flesh will be mine, Malfoy. All mine." A hand snatched through the bars, grabbing at Draco, who wasn't the least surprised at the action. The sharp nails clawed the air a few inches from Draco's chest. He glared at the werewolf.

"I don't think so," he said and followed Bill, who had stopped at another cell four doors down. Bill entered and Draco looked inside curiously. A sturdy table had been placed in the room and Draco's iron cage rested atop it. Wormtail still scrabbled around inside. Bill bent down to look through the bars at the squeaking rat.

"Nice job on the lock," Bill commented. Draco remembered that this Weasley worked at Gringotts and likely had a passable knowledge of locks.

"I'm glad to see no one has let him out."

Bill shook his head. "He spent years and years as a rat. As far as I'm concerned, he can stay that way. Some of the others think he could lead us to Voldemort."

"No. Even if they let him out and kept him from bolting through a rathole, I'm sure the Dark Lord has placed enough safeguard spells on him that he'd be a gibbering mound of flesh before he could spill any secrets."

"Look, he's been scraping at the bars."

Draco bent close and spied a dusting of iron shavings on the table. Wormtail had been using his silver paw to try and cut through the bars. Draco grinned.

"Magic hand on iron bars? Bet that hurts, eh Pettigrew?"

The rat leaped at him and bared its teeth. Draco waggled a finger at him temptingly, just near enough so Wormtail couldn't reach him.

"Temper, temper," Draco cautioned. He straightened up and looked at Bill. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I don't know. Ron is always talking about you like you're evil incarnate. I figured he was either terribly jealous, or in madly love with you."

Draco choked for a moment and had to cough a few times to get his breathing back to normal.

"What?"

Bill laughed. "Well, you never know. Don't worry; I think its simple jealousy. We would have seen signs of the other thing by now."

"Let's bloody well hope so!"

Weasley laughed again. "You're all right in my book, Malfoy. Want to come to the wedding?"

"When is it?"

Bill's laugh was contagious this time.

"Damned if I can remember."

39 Snape's Message

Draco and Bill bypassed Fenrir, ignoring the werewolf's angry slurs and grasping claws. On the way out, Draco looked at Bill Weasley.

"Do you think the bars will hold? When he changes?"

"I don't know. Lupin would, maybe."

"I'll put Granger on it. If anyone can come up with a solution to keep Greyback contained, she will."

Bill shot him a sidelong glance.

"I thought you hated her."

To his horrified chagrin, Draco felt himself flush. "Not exactly."

They walked back to the Great Hall. To Draco's relief, others had arrived to dilute the female content of the room, including Potter, Longbottom, and the Weasley twins. Susan Bones had apparently crawled out of her wolverine hole and Remus Lupin was teasing the strange girl whose hair was lime green today. She smacked Lupin playfully on the arm, blushing. Draco was somewhat surprised at that. He had always assumed Lupin favored the gents. Like Bill had said, you never knew.

Fleur had put the dress away, but most of the girls were still gathered around the table, no doubt gushing over foolish mundanities such as flowers, ribbons, and shoe colors. Draco's mother had often wrapped herself up in such feminine details. As a boy, Draco had been dragged to more horrifying weddings, baby showers, and other girlish functions than he cared to remember.

Luna spied Draco and left the giggling gaggle to force a pleased hug on him. He couldn't decide whether or not he appreciated Luna's unreserved acceptance. Of all Harry Potter's underlings, she had been the first to forgive Draco's past. She stepped back and looked at Bill seriously.

"Fleur is considering royal blue for the dress robes."

"Bad idea," Draco said without thinking. "If the ceremony is outside on a warm day, it will be beastly hot. The wedding party will faint away. She'd better stick with pastels…" His voice trailed away.

Luna nodded solemnly and Bill clapped him on the shoulder.

"You'd better come with me. I think you've spent too much time in the company of women, lately."

About to take him up on the offer, Draco was halted when a silver Patronusstreaked into the room and enveloped him. When the mist dissipated, he noticed everyone was staring at him in shocked silence.

"Snape! That was Snape's Patronus!" one of the Weasley twins yelled. The room erupted into pandemonium. Susan Bones leaped to her feet.

"I knew it!" she yelled.

She was joined by Ginny Weasley, who glared at Draco with hands on her hips. McGonagall hurried over and her heels clicked rapidly on the hard floor.

"What did he want, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked sharply.

"Yes, what did he want?" Susan demanded. "Are you planning to let more Death Eaters into the school? Who are you plotting to kill this time? Harry Potter?"

Hermione raced past the others and stood next to Draco. She latched onto his arm. He wanted to shake her off and confront the angry hoard alone in his growing rage, but he was secretly relieved at her show of support.

"Stop it!" she cried. "You don't understand!"

"Then let him explain, Hermione," Lupin said reasonably. "Was that not Severus Snape's Patronus?"

"You know it was!" Fred or George yelled.

"We've seen that bloody panther enough times to know," the other twin added.

"Speak up, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall commanded in her professor voice. "What was his message?"

Draco glared at them all. He didn't dare disclose the contents of the message to this raving group of do-gooders. Hermione sensed his reluctance and her grip tightened.

"Take him downstairs with the other bloody Death Eaters!" Susan yelled angrily. "Better to be safe than let him betray us again!"

Several shouts, both in agreement and otherwise, followed her words. Fred and George raised their wands. Draco reached for his own, fighting Hermione's grip as he did so.

Harry Potter suddenly leaped in front of Draco with arms outstretched, as if to safeguard Malfoy from harm.

"Leave him alone!" Potter yelled in a voice that locked everyone into a frozen tableau. "I trust Malfoy and no one will be dragging him off to join Fenrir Greyback and the Carrows! Now, back off!" Harry's wand was out. While he wasn't actually threatening his friends, the potential was there.

"But Harry—" Lupin began.

"Hermione, take Malfoy outside. I'll be out in a minute," Harry ordered. Hermione pulled at Draco's arm. He resisted for a moment, but then Bill Weasley stepped up to stand beside Harry. The Weasley siblings looked at him in shaken surprise. Draco allowed Hermione to tow him outside, reflecting that it was shaping up to be a very unusual day. Who would have suspected he would actually like a Weasley?

They walked down the steps outside and headed for Hagrid's hut, but stopped near the bush where they had previously argued. Hermione released Draco and pulled a leaf from the bush thoughtfully. She didn't speak.

"Snape wants me to meet him," Draco said. She looked at him.

"Meet him? Where? And why?"

"He didn't say why. He wants to meet this afternoon. Three o' clock. At Stonehenge."

"Stonehenge? Why there?"

Draco shrugged. "That was the whole message."

"At this time of year, it will be packed with Muggle tourists. That's probably the point—it's a public place and the likelihood of running into other wizards is slim," Hermione rationalized.

"Snape knows I've been there. He took the whole of Slytherin House there once, to show us how to brew Pepperup Potion. It required gathering sacred dust during the Winter Solstice."

Hermione looked indignant. "Snape showed you how to brew Pepperup Potion?"

"Sure. He gave us plenty of off-hours instruction. Why do you think all the Slytherins passed Potions? Even Crabbe and Goyle?"

"I thought it was simple favoritism. I didn't know he was actuallyhelping you. That's like… cheating!"

Draco grinned. "Only a Gryffindor would look at it like that."

The front doors opened and Harry Potter stalked out to join them, followed by Ron Weasley. Harry's hand was already gripping his hair.

One, two, three, Draco counted. Potter scowled at Draco as he approached.

"Lovely. Now the Order is highly suspicious, thinking I'm collaborating with Death Eaters. Me!"

Four, five. Draco placidly redelivered Snape's message.

"Well, that couldn't have come at a worse time," Harry said and tugged. Six. "What do you suppose he wants?"

"I don't know, but it must be important for him to risk a Patronus."

"Right. Why didn't he just send an owl?"

"Not enough time?" Hermione suggested. "If he's surrounded by Death Eaters, he might have only had a moment. And owls can be intercepted."

The door opened again to reveal Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. They paused for a moment and then moved to join their group.

"Whatever you're doing," Neville said, "We're in."

"We're not doing anything," Ron replied evasively.

"Of course we are. We're going to meet Snape," said Hermione.

"Now, wait a minute—" Harry and Draco said together. They glanced at each other in puzzlement.

"Oh, that's just great," Ron spat. "It was bad enough when they only looked like each other."

"The Order is going to be watching us like eagles spying field mice. After our last escapade, they won't let me within fifty meters of the front gates," Harry said. Seven.

"You'll just have to stay behind, Harry," Hermione said. She held up a hand when he would have argued. "You're going to have to deal with Lupin. Tell him whatever you need too—even the truth, if necessary. We can't afford not to meet Snape."

"I'm going alone," Draco said firmly. Hermione smiled at him as though he were a silly child.

"Of course you're not. We have no idea what Snape's motives are. This could be a trap, for all we know. Voldemort may have found out that Snape helped you; he could be under an Imperius Curse; it could be any number of things. We are going with you."

A muscle in Draco's jaw twitched and he looked at Potter through accusatory eyes. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, it's nearly impossible to argue with her. You might as well give in and save yourself some hair."

"Then it's settled. We'll make ourselves conspicuous until noon and then we'll slip out and meet over behind Hagrid's hut. We'll have to skirt the forest to reach the wall. Once over, we canDisapparate from there. Ron, are you coming?"

Weasley nodded, although his expression suggested he was only going along to keep a suspicious eye on Draco.

"I'm coming, too," Neville said.

"Me, too!" Luna cried. Draco looked sidelong at her.

"I thought you refused to Apparate."

Luna tossed her head airily. "This is an emergency. As long as no one tells my father, I'll do it. As long as Hermione takes me through. I trust her not to splinch me."

"You trust her not to splinch you? Now you tell us. Couldn't you have mentioned that in Dover?"

Luna waved away Draco's shout. "We had plenty of time in Dover. Besides, it gave us time to get to know each other better." She moved forward and took Draco's bicep before she leaned close and whispered in his ear. "Remember the Muggle cab? Wasn't it romantic?"

Draco shot Hermione a pained glare when she giggled.

"Does she really have to come?" he pleaded.

"Well, what if we run into a Crumple-Horned Snorkack?" Hermione asked drolly.

"Of course we won't! They're only in Sweden," Luna scoffed. She pressed a kiss against Draco's jaw. "See you at noon, Puffskein."

She wandered back toward the castle. Neville looked at Draco in bewilderment, but said nothing as he turned to follow Luna. Hermione was struggling to contain her laughter. Harry kept his expression carefully neutral. As Luna and Neville approached the doors, they burst open and Ginny Weasley stalked through them. Her glare was icy.

"Uh oh, you're in trouble now, Potter," Draco said. Eight. Nine. Potter's hair was standing out in all directions.

"I guess I'd better go do some damage control," Harry said grimly. "Malfoy, since chaos follows you around like a specter, do you think you can stay out of trouble for awhile? Please?"

"I'll try, darling," Draco said meekly and batted his lashes. Harry glared at him. Ten, eleven, twelve. Harry sighed and stalked off to placate Ginny. Draco tsked after him.

"He could do so much better than the redheaded stick girl," Draco muttered. "Sorry, Weasley." Ron's glare was more venomous than usual. "I know she's your sister, but God, what a horror."

"Can you drop the subject?" Ron snapped. Draco shrugged.

"Suit yourself. He's your friend. If you want him to be henpecked by that budding harpy—"

"Draco!" Hermione said warningly. He gave her a smile guaranteed to melt a block of ice and saw the breath hitch in her throat.

"Actually, Weasley, we need to have a little chat. Now." He looked pointedly at Hermione. She looked from one of them to the other and then shrugged and headed for the school, leaving Ron and Draco to stare at each other in uncomfortable silence.

"Look, Weasley—" Draco began.

"I release you from your vow," Ron blurted. Draco blinked at him for a moment in surprise.

"What did you say?"

"I release you. You don't have to stay away from Hermione; since it's obvious she won't stay away from you, anyway."

Draco watched Ron curiously while he assimilated the astonishing news. Weasley's face resembled that of someone who'd bitten into a lemon.

"Well," Draco said finally, somewhat at a loss for words. He had been steeling himself all morning to confess to Ron and now the point was moot. Draco grinned.

"Of course, if you hurt her in any way, I will figure out how to return the favor," Ron threatened, trying to sound fierce. Strangely, Draco kept thinking of Bill Weasley's words while gauging Ron's expression.

"I consider myself duly warned," Draco said mildly.

"I'm not joking, Malfoy!" Weasley snarled. Draco's grin widened even though he wasn't intentionally trying to provoke Weasley. He was just… happy.

"Understood," he said crisply. He thought about saluting. Ron's hand twitched, likely itching to reach for his wand. Malfoy decided it was time to depart. Hermione waited for him near the doors. Harry and Ginny were yelling a distance away—far enough that their voices could not be heard.

"Doesn't it warm your cockles to see such a happy couple?" Draco asked. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. Draco rubbed the spot and gave her a wounded look. "I bruise easily, you know!"

"Of course. You and your flawless skin. What did you and Ron talk about?"

"Weasley gave me permission to snog you whenever I like."

"He did what?"

"The competition was too much for him. He's withdrawn from the race. First intelligent thing he's done in a long while, actually."

"Withdrawn from the race," Hermione repeated. Her voice was flat.

"To the victor go the spoils and all that," Draco quipped. "Want to come back to my room with me?" He dropped the teasing timbre from his voice and watched gleefully when her eyes darkened and a flush crept into her cheeks.

"Absolutely not."

"Liar."

Hermione huffed in exasperation and went inside. Draco watched the bickering couple for a moment before he entered the castle and retreated to the Slytherin common room. Best to avoid angry Order members—and that lunatic Susan Bones—for awhile.

Hagrid was tending his garden when Draco and the others converged just beyond the fence. He looked at them suspiciously, staring particularly long and hard at Draco.

"What're you lot up ter?" he asked Hermione gruffly as he brushed the dirt from his hands and walked over to lean on the fence. It creaked dangerously.

"Just going for a walk," Hermione said brightly and Draco nearly clapped a hand to his forehead. Never leave the lying to a Gryffindor.

"Bloody hell, Granger, just tell him the truth," he snapped. "We're going into the forest to gather Panther Caps for a potion Granger wants to brew. It might help us locate the Dark Lord."

Hagrid's thick brows rose.

"What yer want ter do that for?"

Draco's eyes narrowed at the gormless, half-giant imbecile.

"Do you recall that he's trying to kill us?" he asked slowly, as if speaking to a very small, very stupid, child. Hermione gave him a disapproving look.

"'Course I do!"

"It's probably a good idea to find him before he attacks again, don't you think, Hagrid?" Neville asked before Draco could utter a scathing reply.

Hagrid sighed, apparently realizing he couldn't argue with all of them. "I 'spose. Don't wander far in there. Them centaurs is all anti-wizard at the moment. If ye need help, just send a Patronus."

"Thank you, Hagrid," Hermione said. "We'll be careful." Her voice was dripping with guilt, but thankfully Hagrid was too dense to pick up on it. The gamekeeper waved and went back to digging in his dirt.

They didn't venture far into the forest, as none of them had any inclination to encounter any of the forest denizens. They finally reached the wall and Hermione levitated them over without effort.

"I don't meet with Snape until three," Draco said. "What are we going to do for two hours? Sightsee?"

"No, we need to make a stop first. Ron, we're going to Godric's Hollow. You take Neville through and I'll take Luna. I'll come back for Draco."

"Godric's Hollow?" Ron looked taken aback. "Why there?"

"I'll explain when we get there. Let's go."

The four of them popped out of existence and Draco glanced around, hoping Hermione could find her way back. He didn't see any prominent landmarks—just wall, trees, and bushes.

SheApparated in front of him and stepped closer to grip his shoulders. Not one to miss an opportunity, Draco slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close to steal a kiss. She relaxed against him for a moment with a sigh and then pushed him away with a palm to his chest.

"Behave!" she admonished, but a smile played about her lips and her eyes sparkled. "We're on a mission."

"I'm just trying to keep you from getting bored."

"Merely being near you is enough to guarantee that," she said wryly. She flicked her wand and they were yanked away.

They appeared near the tumbled ruins of a house that was surprisingly reminiscent of Regulus Black's final residence. Other than the brief flash of memory, the place meant nothing to Draco. Hermione did not explain. She skirted the ruins and led the way up the road to a shabby, overgrown cemetery. One pair of graves was well-tended and Draco sobered when he read the names on the headstones. He suddenly realized the significance of the house.

Hermione knelt next to Lily Potter's grave as though paying her respects. The others watched silently. After a long moment, she got to her feet and looked at Draco with an ashen expression.

"I think I know where Rowena Ravenclaw's bracelet is."

40 Draco's Fan Club

Draco was mortified. "That's low, even by the Dark Lord's standards."

"I suspected it last time we were here," Hermione said. "It looked as if the soil had been disturbed somewhat recently. I didn't want Harry to know, for obvious reasons."

"How the hell are we going to get it out of there?"

Ron was watching them both. His complexion was ashen.

"What are you talking about?" Neville asked in confusion.

Hermione looked at him gravely. "We think there is something buried in Lily Potter's grave that is important to Voldemort. Something we need to retrieve and destroy."

Neville was aghast. "But, that's… that's sick!"

Hermione nodded. "Quite his style, though. It would amuse Voldemort to defile the grave of the woman who brought his worst enemy into the world. Especially if you consider the effect it would have on Harry."

"Are you positive about this?" Draco asked. For reply, Hermione cast a spell. A glowing webwork of lines hovered over the grave and disappeared into the ground. Draco swore lightly.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"Some sort of warding." Hermione passed her hand through a glowing line with no effect. "It won't be triggered by surface movement, but I bet the minute we try moving the dirt we'll be surrounded by Death Eaters. Or Voldemort himself."

"What if we approached it from a different angle?" Draco suggested. "Like we did at the Riddle house?"

Hermione looked around. "You mean dig beyond the ward lines and then angle toward the grave?"

He nodded.

"The wards likely extend all the way around the coffin. That would be a lot of digging, too. I'd rather break the spell."

"Can you?" Ron asked.

"I think so. It would be similar to the working we did with… with the Cup. Contain and dissipate."

"We can't do it now."

"Of course not. We haven't the time, for one thing. Nor are we prepared. We'll have to come back."

"When?"

"Better sooner than later, but we'll have to do so without alerting Harry, or the Order of the Phoenix. Neville can stand in for Harry. Since Luna hates to Apparate, she can stay behind and keep an eye on Harry. Tonight is too soon—we need to gather supplies and I need to research these wards."

"You know there will be other traps in place, as well," Draco commented. She nodded.

"We'll have to be prepared for anything."

"All right then," Draco said. "Let's concentrate on the meeting with Snape. I'm not sure I want him to know I've been making nice with Harry Potter. As you said, we have no grasp of his motives. His hatred of The Boy Who Lived has always seemed genuine."

"The four of us will hang back, out of sight. You can signal if you need us." Hermione touched the coin on her chest. Draco shook his head.

"If it is a trap, there will be Death Eaters hanging about, as well. It's too bad we didn't think to use Polyjuice Potion—you could all impersonate Muggles."

"Maybe we can, anyway. Enough to pass cursory inspection, that is. How many Death Eaters can recognize us on sight? Except for Lucius Malfoy, none of them has more than a passing acquaintance with any of us."

Ron laughed shortly. "Yeah, passing over several blasts from a wand while they were trying to kill us."

"Exactly. Now, how did you swap hair colors with Harry? That will be a good start."

Draco spent the next forty minutes playing hairdresser, and having far too much fun with it, he admitted to himself. They tried several hair colors on Hermione and finally settled on platinum blonde. She worked on straightening it while Draco moved on to Luna. Draco had to conjure a mirror for her so she could admire her new mouse-brown hair streaked with pink and violet.

"Are you sure Muggles do this to their hair?" Draco asked Hermione dubiously.

"She won't draw a second glance," Hermione assured him. Neville was given a similar treatment with hair a vibrant shade of lime green that Hermione teased into wild spikes. She transfigured his clothing into black leather with silver studs. Longbottom was mortified, but utterly unrecognizable. Luna giggled at him.

"You two look a pair," Hermione commented. She gave Luna a short black shirt overlaid with black organza and fishnet stockings. A hot pink tank top was covered with a long black jacket. Luna admired herself in the mirror from every angle.

Then it was Ron's turn. He and Draco glared at each other.

"Too bad we can't get rid of Weasley's freckles. We could shave him bald and it would still be obvious he's a Weasley."

"Maybe we can get rid of them," Hermione said thoughtfully.

Ron looked worried. "What are you going to do?" he asked nervously.

"Don't worry, it's just makeup."

She produced a small round case and proceeded to powder Weasley's face—which wasn't easy since he squirmed like an eight-year-old the entire time. Draco marveled at the bickering the two exchanged. How could Weasley even think to be romantic toward Hermione? She acted more like his mum than a girlfriend.

"It bloody stinks!" Ron protested.

"I don't care if it's Eau de Skunk, it's working. Or would be if you'd hold still."

"How long can this take? You've been over my nose six times."

"Well, you have a lot of freckles there!"

"If I wrinkle my nose, my whole face will crack."

"Then don't wrinkle your nose, dimwit."

"Don't call me dimwit. Gaaah! You got some in my mouth! It tastes awful!"

"If you would shut up, you wouldn't get it in your mouth. Now hold still!"

"How do you girls wear this crap? It's horrid."

Hermione sighed in exasperation, but finally finished and looked at her handiwork with a grin at Draco.

"Not bad," he admitted and tapped Weasley on the head with his wand. A bit harder than warranted, perhaps. Weasley glared. His hair turned pitch black. "For some reason, he still looks like a Weasel."

Hermione conjured some gel and slicked Ron's hair straight back. Then she turned his clothing into a black Muggle suit and tie. She giggled at the outcome.

"That's better. You look like a young funeral home director. Or a used car salesman."

Draco and Ron looked at each other in incomprehension, but neither asked. It was enough that Ron was no longer identifiable. Neither was Hermione. With her hair straightened, it now hung far below her waist. She made a stunning blonde. She had changed her clothing into a short, pale green dress with a high waist and delicate pink flowers. White sandals covered her feet. She topped the outfit with a white jacket to hold her wand. She wouldn't have looked out of place at one of his mother's garden parties, except that no witch would ever be caught dead in a skirt that short.

"What about you, Malfoy?" Ron asked. Draco shook his head.

"Why bother? I don't want Snape scrutinizing every face looking for me. If it's to be a trap, I'd rather be the bait than the catch."

"How are we going to Apparate to Stonehenge in broad daylight? Popping out of nowhere is certain to give the Muggles a fright and send the Ministry seeking our blood."

"It doesn't help that the damned place is on a bloody flat, barren plain."

"There are a few trees, though. Do you recall? A rather long walk, granted, but we have time."

Draco sighed. "No help for it. Weasley, have you been there?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. I think I remember the trees, too. I can get there."

"Longbottom?"

"It's been too long. I barely recall the stones."

"I'll take you through, then. Hermione can take the flibbertigibbet. Shall we?"

They appeared at various places along a copse of trees. Draco and Neville could see Weasley, who was several meters away disentangling himself from a bush. Draco could not spot Hermione, but he could hear Luna laughing nearby. They followed the sound and found the two girls climbing out of a muddy bog. Luna had left her shoes behind in the mud and was stomping happily in the muck.

"This feels great!" she called, waving excitedly at Draco. "You should try it! Some mud has healing properties, you know."

Hermione's expression was the exact opposite of Luna's and her lips were set in a white line.

"The only 'properties' in this mud are sheep droppings!" Hermione growled. She staggered out of the mire and cleaned off her legs and shoes with a sharp snap of her wand.

"If you've finished wallowing, Luna, can we please get moving?" she snapped. Luna reluctantly joined her on dry land and Hermione levitated Luna's missing black boots from the bog and Scourgifiedthem. She did the same to Luna's feet and the Ravenclaw girl threw herself on the ground to replace the boots, heedless of the twigs and debris that attached to her skirt.

Ron had caught up to them.

"We should probably not arrive together," Hermione suggested. "Draco, you go first. But, be careful, of course. We seem to be right near the road, so just follow it. Ron and I will go next. Neville, you and Luna wait a few minutes and then trail us."

Draco started off and quickly reached the road. He'd only been walking a couple of minutes when a small car screeched to a halt next to him. Four Muggle girls were packed into the tiny car. One of them leaned out the window.

"Hey, gorgeous! You want a lift?" The other three girls whooped and laughed loudly. Draco smiled. A moment later, he was wedged in the back seat between two voluptuous girls. The driver kept winking at him in the rear-view and the girl in the passenger seat had turned herself about to face him.

"So, going to Stonehenge, then?" she asked. He nodded.

The one on his left had a kinky mass of red hair and she wore something resembling a black bra covered in torn red netting that revealed more cleavage than it concealed. Her eyes were lined in black and her lips were bright red. She leaned against him and crooned in his ear.

"What you doin' all alone, peach?"

The one on his right was blonde and similarly dressed, but in glaring violet and orange.

"We're on holiday," she said. "Girl's day out."

"We're definitely out!" the brunette passenger cried and hooted.

"What's your name?" the driver asked.

"Devlin Whitehorn," Draco replied quickly.

"Nice name, love," the redhead said and gave his knee a squeeze. Draco decided to have a long talk with his father one day. He'd been raised with some serious misconceptions about Muggles. If he'd known Muggle girls behaved this way, he'd have abandoned the wizarding world every holiday.

Thus accompanied by four adoring fans, Draco made his way to the Stonehenge monoliths. He walked to the very center of the circle and looked carefully around for Snape, although it was still early. The two girls from the back seat were still clinging to his arms.

The redhead looked around in disappointment.

"This is it, then? A bunch o' rocks?"

"A bunch o' rocks! It's history! Where's your sense o' pride? Our ancestors had to haul these bloomin' things 'ere and stack 'em up like this!"

"What for?"

"No one knows."

The redhead shook her curly locks. "Can we leave? Let's take Devlin 'ere back to Salisbury and party."

"How 'bout it, Devlin?" the driver asked.

"Sorry, girls. I'm meeting a man here."

The redhead released him. "A man? Don't tell me you're a woofter!"

"Say it ain't so!" the blonde cried. "That would be a crushin' blow to girls everywhere!"

"You don't go for the gents, do you, Dev?" the brunette asked.

"No," Draco assured them. "Definitely not."

The four girls swarmed on him in glee and it was at that particular moment that Hermione arrived in the center of the circle. Draco was somewhat surprised the four Muggle girls did not erupt into puffs of smoke from the heat of her glare. She marched straight over to Draco.

"Hello, darling," he said before she could speak. "I got here a bit ahead of schedule."

"Apparently," she said through clenched teeth. "Who are your little friends?"

The girls began to back off. The redhead was indignant.

"Devlin, you fibber! She looks awfully… female, for a man."

"You'd better keep an eye on this one, dearie," the blonde warned Hermione. "'E's a tricky one."

"I've noticed," Hermione said glacially.

"Easy come, easy go," the driver quipped. "Let's go, girls. Nice meeting you, Devlin, you naughty boy."

They skirted Hermione and pranced, giggling, down the path. Draco grinned innocently.

"They gave me a ride."

"I'll bet."

"They seem to like me."

"No doubt."

"Should you be seen standing here with me?"

"I'm certain I was barely noticeable among your giggling admirers."

"Which have departed."

"Try not to attract any others. I'll be over there, with Ronald. Lurking." He watched her stalk away in high dudgeon and turned his attention to the rocks as though fascinated. Every so often, he would chuckle to himself.

41  Grave News

Draco was bored out of his mind by the time Snape arrived. The Muggle girl had been right—Stonehenge or not, they were rocks. They were only interesting for about twelve minutes.

Snape walked out from among the stones and Draco assumed he had boldlyApparated somewhere close by. He was surprised to see Snape in Muggle clothing. Snape wore black trousers similar to Draco's, and a high-necked black shirt with long sleeves. The outfit looked far too warm for the balmy summer day, but Snape was probably immune to discomfort.

Snape's eyes flitted from person to person as he approached Draco, alert for anything. There was no recognition in his eyes when his gaze passed over Neville and Luna. Hermione and Ron were out of sight.

"You're looking well, Draco," Snape said with something that vaguely resembled a smile.

"I'm doing all right," Draco replied. "Better than I was trapped in my room at Malfoy Manor, at any rate." He followed Snape's lead by scanning the area, alert for Death Eaters or other potential danger.

"Your mother asked me to bring you a message."

"How is she?" Draco asked quickly. Snape grimaced.

"As well as can be expected."

"And Father?"

"The same." Snape jerked his head sharply. "There are too many Muggles here. Walk with me."

Snape turned and Draco flicked a glance at Hermione, barely visible now in the shadow of one of the stones. He shrugged and followed Snape. As soon as they were out of sight of onlookers, Snape turned, gripped Draco's shoulder, and Disapparated them.

Draco staggered a bit when they arrived at their new destination. After a moment of disorientation, he realized they were on a pier. He scowled at Snape.

"You could have bloody warned me before taking me through like that," he snapped. Snape shrugged.

"You should know by now you can trust me, Draco. This place is away from prying eyes and Muggles."

A sound made them start and they realized a man was walking down the pier toward them. He carried a fishing pole and tackle box.

"You were saying?" Draco said blandly.

The man approached and Draco saw he was a rather old, somewhat pudgy gentleman in a flannel shirt.

"Hey, lads! Where did ye come from? Thought I 'ad the place all to meself today, I did. You 'ere fer the fishin'?" As he approached, he seemed to notice they carried no gear at all. His brows beetled down. "Now, ye ain't them damn environmental types, are ye?"

When the man was three meters away, Snape pulled out his wand and downed him with a single blast of green light. He looked around carefully to make certain the man had been alone. There were no others signs of life along the barren coast.

"Damnable Mudbloods," Snape growled. "They multiply like rabbits. You cannot go anywhere without running into a nest of them. Too bad Voldemort was lying about exterminating them." He laughed sharply. "Or not lying, exactly. He just plans to exterminate the rest of us, as well. The bloody half-blood freak."

Draco was taken aback. He'd never heard Snape spew such pureblood venom before, and decided it would be a bad idea to mention Snape's own half-blood ancestry. He tried to ignore the fallen Muggle, as Snape did when he walked casually farther down the pier toward the water.

"The Dark Lord is keeping a close eye on your parents, especially in light of the curious disappearances of four Death Eaters, recently. You wouldn't know anything about that, I suppose?"

Snape's black eyes glinted with merriment. Draco was well aware of Snape's ability as a Legilimens, but he didn't get the impression Snape was using it.

"Which four?" Draco asked casually.

"It doesn't matter. I can't stay long. I've left Goyle and Avery in a stupor and I must get back in time to modify their memories. I've come to warn you, although there is a limit to what I am allowed to say. You know he's placed his version of the Fidelius Curseupon us."

"Where are my parents?"

"That, of course, is one of those closely guarded secrets. I can tell you, however, that he plans to attack the Ministry of Magic."

"When? And why is that knowledge not protected by the Charm?"

"Within the next few days. The Dark Lord did not bother to silence us because too many Death Eaters are aware of the plot. What theydo not know is that the attack is merely a diversion. The Dark Lord does not care if it succeeds or not."

"A diversion for what?"

The Galleon on his chest suddenly grew hot. Draco wondered if it would be possible to send a message without touching the coin. Then again, he was touching it with his skin…

I'm fine, he sent to Hermione. I'll be right back.

"It's difficult to answer direct questions, Draco," Snape said and Malfoy had to backtrack his thoughts for a moment. The Ministry attack… a diversion. "Instead, perhaps you should ask yourself what the Dark Lord wants."

The words brought back Draco's conversation with his father. Voldemort wanted the Ministry of Magic crushed. And Hogwarts.

"If it helps, the Dark Lord knows where Harry Potter is," Snape said.

The breath caught in Draco's throat for a moment, but he did not let the surprise register on his face. "Everyone knows where Harry Potter is. In London."

"Not anymore. He fled his little hiding place for somewhere that I am not, at the moment, at liberty to mention."

Draco swallowed hard, suddenly knowing where Voldemort was planning to go.

"How will he get in?"

Snape laughed without humor. "I knew you would figure it out. You have always been a sharp lad. You remind me so much of me, when I was your age. Except you have an idealistic streak that I never quite managed. In that way, you are far more like my foolish—" Snape's jaw clamped shut so fast it nearly clicked.

"Like who?"

"Never mind. As you were asking, the Dark Lord will not be walking up to the front gates. Nor will he use a Vanishing Cabinet. Did you happen to use the information I sent with you?"

Draco nodded. "I found the item at the Riddle House. It has been destroyed."

For the first time, Snape stared at him with something akin to astonishment.

"Are you certain?"

"Positive. It was Hufflepuff's Cup."

"How did you destroy it?" Snape's voice was sharp with excitement.

"I'm certain you don't have the time for me to go into that explanation," Draco said mildly. Added to the fact that Draco had no intention of telling him.

Snape sighed. "True. I shall let your parents know that you are well. Your mother asked me to tell you she hopes you will visit your relatives in France. To be safe, of course."

"Of course. You will not mention to her that I have no intention of doing that. I don't suppose you know the whereabouts of any other Horcruxes?"

Snape shook his head. "No. The Dark Lord was certain to have something of Gryffindor's. Probably Ravenclaw's, as well. But Dumbledore and I were never able to locate them." Snape snorted. "I sometimes miss the nagging old bastard. He had his uses."

"Why did you kill him?" Draco asked suddenly. Snape's cheerful demeanor evaporated.

"Another tale we do not have the time for. Suffice it to say, it was necessary. I wish you well, Draco. Know that I will protect your mother with my life."

He started to walk away, but Draco halted him. "Professor Snape?" he asked, although the title was no longer relevant. "Why are you helping us?"

Snape walked to a black bundle that lay at the end of the pier. He rifled through it and pulled out a Death Eater cape. "Someday, it may all come clear, Draco. I have given up or betrayed every single thing I ever held dear. To one purpose. But, your mother was always my favorite…" Snape paused with a pained look. "She was always kind to me, even though she doesn't know—will never know—the truth."

"What truth?" Draco asked shortly, hoping he would not hear a declaration of love for his mother. It was one thing to suspect it, but to hear it aloud…

Snape laughed; a sound that was curiously full of real humor. Draco wasn't sure he'd ever heard genuine amusement in Snape's voice before. The former Potions Master had changed a lot since the incident on the Tower. Snape slung the robes about his shoulders and fastened them at his throat. He grinned at Malfoy.

"Draco, Draco, there are so many lies now it would take days to uncover them, should I choose to disclose all my varied sins."

Snape flung the hood up to cover his lanky hair.

"I wish you success. By the way, should you choose to return to Malfoy Manor, beware the parlour and the basement. Those were the most likely areas for the Ministry to search, so they were laid with several traps before we departed. The rest of the house should be safe, but for prowling Ministry underlings and members of the Order of the Phoenix."

Snape lifted a hand in farewall and Disapparated. Draco looked around and then walked back to the fallen Muggle. He knelt and touched the man's neck. The fisherman was dead. Draco stood up quickly and shuddered in distaste. He was not completely certain he wanted Snape on his side. What had he said? He had given up or betrayed every single thing he had ever cared about. Why would Draco and his family warrant any better treatment? If Draco ever stood in the way of Snape's purpose—whatever that was—he had little doubt he would end up similar to the Muggle stiffening at his feet.

Draco sent himself back to Stonehenge.

Draco appeared at the same spot from which he and Snape had departed. Luckily, the only person to see him Apparate was Hermione, who had obviously been worriedly waiting for him.

She flung herself on him and pressed her cheek against his.

"Thank God! I was afraid it was a trap and we'd never see you again!"

"I'm certain some of you would be more than pleased at that eventuality."

"Only Ron," Hermione admitted. "Where did you go?"

"A deserted pier," Draco said, knowing he would never dare to mention the dead Muggle to Hermione. "He had a message from my Mother. She wants me to flee to France and hide."

"That was it?"

"No. Voldemort is planning an attack on the Ministry of Magic. He knows Harry Potter is at Hogwarts. And he intends to attack there, as well."

Hermione's face drained of all color, making her look like a pale waif under the blonde hair.

"He told you all of that?"

"Not in so many words. He couldn't tell me about Hogwarts, but he gave me enough hints to figure it out. Which means they have to be somewhere close to the school, if a Fidelius Charm prevented him from speaking of it. The forest, perhaps? That would explain why Wormtail and Greyback were meeting there."

"That's terrifying, to think of him so close. How did he know Harry was there?"

Draco frowned.

"I didn't think to ask."

"Are you certain they know he's at Hogwarts? Maybe they think he's at the Headquarters of the Order? Snape would know where that was, even if he couldn't speak of it."

Draco thought about it for a moment. "He did say that Harry was at a place he was not allowed to mention. I simply assumed he meant Hogwarts." Draco shook his head. "But then he said that the Dark Lord would not be entering by the front gate or a Vanishing Cabinet. Why would he say that?"

Ron approached, looking far too somber in black.

"Finally got back from your secret rendezvous, eh?" he snapped at Draco.

"Yes, Weasel. We'd better get back to Hogwarts so that I can set my wicked plans into motion."

"Stop it, you two," Hermione growled. She gestured to Neville and Luna. They waited for a lull in the Muggle tourists before Disapparating. Hermione took Luna through, but the others took themselves back.

Draco felt somewhat vulnerable waiting outside the front gates of Hogwarts, but this time there would be no Wormtail lurking in the bushes beside the road.

"Not much point in sneaking out if we have to beg admittance each time we return," Draco muttered.

"Maybe we won't have to," Hermione said and tapped the locks with her wand. After a moment, they clicked open and the chains drew back. She smiled at him with an air of smug superiority.

"I paid close attention last time Tonks opened them," she said pertly. They quickly filed inside and the locks clicked behind them.

"We should probably tell the Order about Snape's warning," Hermione said.

"Of course. Hopefully they will start searching for the Dark Lord… as long as they can do it without drawing attention."

They paused partway back to restore their appearances to normal. Weasley gratefully scrubbed the powder from his face.

"You should consider leaving that on," Draco suggested.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron snarled. Draco whacked him on the head to return his hair to orange-red.

"Ouch! Do you hae to do that so bloody hard?"

"Yes, Weasel, I do. I really do."

Ron scowled and stalked into the building. Luna and Neville looked at Hermione, who sighed.

"Draco and I will go talk to Lupin and Harry. We'll meet later to discuss retrieval of… of the bracelet. We can't let Harry get suspicious. I hate keeping this from him, but I think it's best, under the circumstances."

"I'll go see if there are any books on warding in the library," Luna offered, tossing her head. She had insisted on keeping the pink and purple streaks in her hair, although she had allowed Draco to return the rest of it to normal.

"I'll help you," Neville decided. "I feel pretty useless."

"If you two can find a way to break the wards, you'll be far from useless," Hermione said. Neville nodded and they went inside.

The Great Hall was crowded once more, and in a surprising uproar.

"What did we do now?" Draco asked.

"I don't think it was us, this time," Hermione said worriedly. The others were clustered around Molly Weasley, who was seated in a chair sobbing hysterically. Harry noticed them and hurried over.

"What's happened?" Hermione asked.

"Rufus Scrimgeour was just here. They haven't seen Percy Weasley since yesterday evening. He stayed late at the Ministry to finish something and no one has seen him since. They checked with his Slytherin girlfriend, but she hasn't seen him in two days."

Hermione looked at Draco with a sick expression.

"My God, Voldemort has him."

"Don't even suggest that!" Harry hissed. "Mrs. Weasley is already hysterical, blaming herself for not making more of an effort to reconcile with the pompous git. Besides, we don't know for certain—"

"Actually, I think we do," Hermione whispered. "Snape mentioned to Draco that Voldemort knows your whereabouts, and hinted that you were here—at Hogwarts. Percy knows you're here."

"He knows I'm here, too," Draco said quietly.

Hermione clutched his hand.

"They can't suspect you're working with us. I don't think Percy would volunteer that information."

"Why the hell wouldn't he? He despises me like all the other Weasleys…well, except one, apparently, but that's beside the point. He would hardly spill the news about Potter willingly. They either tortured the information out of him or used Veritaserum. Or a combination of the two, knowing the Dark Lord."

"Well, now we've got even more incentive to find Voldemort. We've got to save Draco's parents and Percy."

"If there's anything left to save," Draco said grimly.

"Don't even think it," she said and squeezed his hand tightly. "Snape would have told you if your parents were in danger, right?"

Draco sighed and nodded.

"I think so, if Mother was in trouble, at any rate. He said he'd die to save her, but I wouldn't exactly trust his word, even about that. If her life stood in the way of his grand purpose, he'd sacrifice her with the rest of us. I have little doubt of that."

"We'll have to hope his purpose coincides with ours, for the time being."

"What are you three whispering about over here?" Lupin asked as he and Tonks approached. Tonks looked at them curiously and tugged at her green hair.

"Wotcher, cousin," she said and grinned at Draco.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" he asked sharply. "Who are you?"

Tonks giggled. "Blimey, you don't remember me? I'm not surprised, really. You were only four when I was banned from your house forever for scaring you and making you cry. Your dad hated my mum, anyway. Narcissa was forced to visit at our house after that. Which she only did about once a year, for mum's birthday."

It came to Draco in a rush.

"Aunt Andromeda's daughter," he gasped. "Tonks" had been a dirty word in the Malfoy household, rarely mentioned after Andromeda had thumbed her nose at the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black and married a Muggle.

"Cracking good memory, coz," Tonks said.

"I don't remember you at all."

She laughed. "You probably blocked it. I wasn't very nice to you after you called me a half-blood scum."

Draco flushed. Lupin looked from him to Tonks.

"I'd forgotten you two were related."

"The Blacks and Malfoys have been trying to forget that, too."

"Sorry," Draco said.

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're finally coming around." Her gaze flicked to his hand, still clasped in Hermione's, but Draco felt no compunction to let go.

"We have some grave news," Hermione cut in. "Best delivered in private."

They left the gathered Weasleys and went to the nearest private place—Snape's old office.

42 The Elven Council

Once inside the dark office, they each lit a few lamps to dispel the perpetual gloom. Besides Snape's old chair, there were only two hardbacked wooden chairs before the desk. Lupin took Snape's seat with a sigh and commented, "I have the feeling I need to be sitting down for this."

Tonks perched on one corner of the desk and looked at some of the bizarre items Snape had left on his desk. Hermione marveled at the quantity of items Snape had left behind. When he'd left Hogwarts, he'd taken nothing but his wand. She wondered if any of his things held sentimental value. Or if Snape could even feel sentiment.

She sat down in one of the hard seats. Draco stood nearby, partially in shadow, likely uncomfortable as he usually was in the presence of others. Harry paced.

Without further delay, Hermione launched into an explanation of where they had gone—leaving out their side trip to Godric's Hollow. Lupin's lips thinned into an irritated line when he heard they had departed the school unannounced yet again, but he allowed her to finish without interruption. She felt quite guilty anyway, especially considering they planned to sneak out again at the earliest opportunity.

Draco willingly repeated his conversation with Snape and they postulated a bit on Snape's motives, without managing a satisfying explanation.

"Maybe Voldemort killed someone he cared about," Tonks suggested.

"I find it difficult to believe he could care enough about anyone to seek revenge for over a decade," Lupin said.

"He cares about Draco."

"Heseems to care about him," Harry snapped. "With Snape, nothing can be taken at face value."

His pacing was beginning to annoy Hermione. "Harry, will you please sit down?" she asked. He stopped walking, but did not sit.

"Well, the first order of business is to send a warning to the Ministry. They will likely not heed it, particularly since we have only a vague caution, but at least we can keep our own Ministry officials on the alert. Unfortunately, there are only a few of them now."

"Jack and I can trade off shifts. Kingsley and Arthur, too."

"Try to spread as many rumors as you can to keep the sharper officials on their toes. If word gets out, some of them will pay attention. The rest of us will start combing the forest and try to locate some sign of Voldemort. I'll recruit Hagrid."

"And Grawp," Harry interjected. Lupin cleared his throat.

"And Grawp."

"Moody will leap at the chance for some action. I think we should start in the clearing where we found Draco—maybe we can figure out why he was taken there."

There was a long silence.

"Why does it disturb me that you three are not leaping to volunteer for one duty or another?" Lupin asked.

Hermione flushed.

"I'm rather tired," Draco said dryly.

"Would you let me help?" Harry asked bitterly.

"Probably not, but I think it is more likely that you are all up to something. Someone needs to invent a charm that will set off an alarm the instant any of you get too close to the outer wall."

"We'd just figure out how to disarm it," Draco replied.

Lupin stood up. "Yes, you probably would."

He and Tonks went out.

Draco was looking at the books lining the shelves.

"Remarkably similar to the ones Snape had at home," he commented. "Less deadly, however. At least he didn't willingly allow some of the nastier volumes to fall into student hands."

"Wouldn't you have been first in line?" Harry asked.

"As long as it would have given me a weapon to use against you? Most likely." Draco grinned. Harry shook his head wryly and tugged at his hair.

"Do you think there is anything useful in here?" Hermione asked.

"Like what?"

"Like a list entitled 'Places I Already Seached for Horcruxes,'" Draco suggested. Harry shot a mild Stinging Hex at him and Malfoy yelped and rubbed his arm. "Watch it, Potter."

"Don't you think he would have told you if he had such a thing?"

"Not necessarily. He's still a git. I think his need to destroy the Horcruxes wars with his need to make it difficult for me."

"He's probably just jealous of your blinding good looks," Harry commented and then made a gagging face.

"Potter's trying to hide the fact that he's in love with me," Draco said conspiratorially to Hermione. "You should see him grope me when we're alone."
A second Stinging Hex followed the first and Malfoy said, "Damn you!" But he grinned when he shot one at Harry, who leaped aside.

"Will you two stop acting like children?" Hermione snapped primly. "I'm sure the Order went through this place a dozen times, trying to find a clue as to why Snape killed Dumbledore."

"Do you think he'd write that down?" Draco asked ingeniously. Hermione stood up and glared at him.

"You don't want me to give you a Stinging Hex," she warned.

"Maybe I do," he said caressingly. She sighed in exasperation.

Draco was suddenly serious. "Is there any chance Voldemort has accessed the school? What if he found a weakness in the defenses?"

"We already checked," Harry said absently.

"You checked the entire school?"

"We sort of cheated," Hermione admitted, realizing Draco did not know about the Marauder's Map. "We should probably look again, Harry. Just to be safe."

"All right. We should also go say something to Mrs. Weasley, first." Harry pointed his wand at Malfoy. "Don't say it."

"Don't say what?"

"Whatever horrible, sarcastic comment you were about to make."

Draco clapped a hand to his chest. "You wound me, Potter."

"Let's go," Hermione said. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

As they began to enter the Great Hall, Fred and George Weasley stormed out.

"Hermione, just who we were looking for," George said.

"Ron says you found Malfoy by some scrying method," Fred continued.

"We need to use it to find Percy."

"He's a bloody git."

"But he's still our brother."

"Do you have something that belongs to him?" Hermione asked.

"Of course."

"I think we have something that belongs to everyone," Fred mentioned.

"You never know when you might need it."

"Even me?" she asked indignantly.

"Well, not you," said George.

"We'd never nick anything of yours, Hermione."

"Definitely not."

She looked at them suspiciously, but it was impossible to be cross with them, even at their most maddening.

"The scrying?" Fred prodded. Hermione nodded and led them down the hall to Firenze. Harry and Draco followed.

The centaur seemed glad to see them—he likely got very bored hanging out by himself in a castle—all except Draco, who stayed back as though Firenze had some sort of contagious disease. The centaur still had the bowl and water was quickly fetched. When it came time to drop in the object, Hermione gasped.

"You took his Prefect's badge?" she snapped.

"He foolishly left it out in the open," Fred protested.

"We were just keeping it safe for him."

"Hanging on that bare wall, in that flimsy frame, beneath that delicate glass…"

"Why, anything could have happened to it!"

"Peace, children," Firenze ordered calmly.

Fred and George managed to not only stop chattering, but they were remarkably quiet long enough for the bowl to ice over and an image to appear.

"He's alive!" George cried. Percy was lying on the ground, looking dead but for a hand he had flung up as if to ward off something. A guttering candle lay on the ground nearby. His clothing was torn and dirty and his spectacles were missing. A nasty bruise darkened one cheek and his chin seemed to be marred with dried blood.

"Doesn't look too good," Fred commented.

"Where the hell is he?"

"Looks like a cave."

"Well, that narrows it down to about a hundred million places."

"Hermione? Any ideas?"

Firenze pulled the image back as far as possible, but only darkness was visible beyond the rocky area surrounding Percy. She shook her head.

"It could be anywhere."

They all sat in frustration for awhile, and then Firenze dispelled the image. Fred and George launched into a discussion with Firenze about creating portable scrying pools and Hermione walked back to join Draco.

"Do you think we should scry for your parents?"

His silver eyes went far away for a moment.

"I'd have to go home. I don't have anything that belongs to them."

"Lupin would kill us if we left again this soon."

"I don't think your centaur likes me, anyway."

"I think it's the other way around," she said dryly.

"Well, it is a—"

She clapped a hand over his lips and hissed, "Stop that!"

He grabbed her hand and held it in place while he touched a tongue to her fingertips. She shivered deliciously. He released her when Harry walked over.

"Let's go get that map," he said. "I should double-check the Pensieve memories, to make sure I didn't miss anything. We have to find those Horcruxes."

They were on the third floor landing when a sharp pop halted them. Dobby stood on the step above Harry. The house-elf goggled at Draco for a moment before narrowing his eyes in an angry glare. Hermione realized she hadn't seen Dobby since the rescue of Neville Longbottom.

"Dobby must speak to Harry Potter. In private," he murmured loudly, shooting suspicious glances at Malfoy.

"Um…"Harry said.

"We'll wait for you in the Trophy Room," Hermione said with a gesture at the nearby door. She grabbed Draco's hand and towed him into the room. Sconces sprang to light when they entered, dimly illuminating the glass cases that lined the walls.

"You just wanted to bring me in here to snog, didn't you?" Draco asked hopefully.

Hermione's pulse jumped at the thought. She grinned and looked at him sidelong, but sobered when her attention was snagged by the prominent case at the end of the hall. They walked forward to look at it soberly.

"The Tri-Wizard Cup," she murmured.

The plaque beneath the cup had a memorial inscription for Cedric Diggory.

"Is it still a Portkey?" Draco asked.

"No. Dumbledore fixed it." She sighed. "I hate looking at it. So many horrible memories. Let's go next door."

A connecting door led to the Armor Gallery, filled with sets of armor, weapons, shields, and other accoutrements of war. She didn't think she'd ever been in the room, before.

"Remind me to hurry here if the Death Eaters invade the school. Magic is fine, but a fine length of steel is a nice backup." Draco admired a thin rapier with an intricate, lace-like guard.

Hermione looked at a case containing a wicked looking morning star that bristled with sharp metal spikes.

"I can't imagine hitting someone with this," she said. Draco joined her.

"I don't know, I think Snake-Face would look better with three-inch spikes imbedded in the side of his head."

She chuckled. "Good point." She laughed again and tapped the glass. "Get it? Point?"

Draco groaned and grabbed her.

"That was so bad I see I shall have to shut you up."

He turned her to face him and kissed her. He pressed her against the glass case. That was a pleasant pursuit for a few minutes until she found herself drowning in sheer bliss. She broke away and ducked under his arm.

"Where are you going?" he asked when she hurried to put another glass case between them.

"I can't think when you do that," she said breathlessly.

"You don't have to think all the time, you know."

She watched as he peered through the case at her. Inside, a number of empty scabbards had been propped upright to resemble a teepee. They were all beautiful—leather or wood wrapped in gold filigree, silver gilt, or enameled metal.

"I wonder where the swords are," Draco commented casually as he sidled around the case. Hermione moved when he did, keeping the case between them. She didn't trust his casual interest in the scabbards.

"Probably broken in battle," she replied.

"What does the plaque say?" he asked seriously. She bent to read it and Draco bolted. She tried to run, realizing his trick, but it was too late. He caught her and slid his arm around her waist.

"You won't escape, now," he whispered and kissed her again. She gave in thankfully and slid her hands into his hair. She would never tire of touching it. After awhile, she admitted he was right. She didn't have to think all the time.

Harry and Dobby walked down the hall to the empty Charms classroom, which reminded Harry that he needed to show Hermione and Draco the spells Fred and George had developed.

"Where have you been, Dobby?" Harry asked, somewhat guiltily realizing he hadn't even thought of the house-elf in days.

"That is what I have come to tell Harry Potter," Dobby said seriously. "Dobby caught Kreacher when he left the house of nasty-bad Malfoy wizards. Kreacher fled, but Dobby finally caught him. Dobby took Kreacher to the Elven Council."

Harry blinked at him.

"The what?"

"The Elven Council. They are not house-elves. In fact, they hold us in contempt for choosing to bond ourselves to a wizard household or family. Yet, we are bound by their laws."

Dobby was unusually serious. Harry struggled to absorb the concept of elves that were not like Dobby and the other subservient house-elves.

"Did Kreacher break a law? An elven law?"

Dobby nodded.

"He betrayed Sirius Black and broke the covenant made with the Black household by obeying Bellatrix Lestrange over you, the rightful master. However, there is some question as to the legitimacy of your claim, Harry Potter. The elves are investigating."

"What? You are saying I might not be the rightful owner of Grimmauld Place?"

Harry sat down hard in Flitwick's chair. As much as he hated that house, it was his only connection to Sirius.

"Not by wizarding law!" Dobby assured him. "Only by elven law. Kreacher may be forgiven for his crimes. In the meantime, they are keeping him. Elven law is extremely slow where house-elves are concerned. They don't care about us."

Dobby sounded both sad and bitter. Harry was relieved.

"That's fine! Kreacher was more of a nuisance than a help. This way, at least he won't be assisting the enemy."

Dobby nodded. "Very good, yes, Harry Potter." The house-elf's tone hadn't changed.

"What is it?" Harry asked in trepidation.

"Dobby did not want to go to the Elven Council. Dobby did it for Harry Potter—to punish Kreacher for his betrayal."

"But?" Harry asked resignedly, knowing whenever Dobby did something to help Harry Potter, it usually ended up a cocked-up catastrophe.

"Dobby also betrayed his master. When Dobby was bound to the Malfoys. Dobby betrayed them to help Harry Potter."

Harry gaped at him. "But, you punished yourself every time you did anything against the Malfoys! You nearly beat your own brains out against my bedpost!"

Dobby scoffed. "Small pain is not elven punishment. The Council is looking into my crimes, also. Only because I am now free was I allowed to return to Harry Potter. I must go back once the matter has been decided."

"And if they find you guilty? What will happen?"

"I could be stripped of my magic. Or sentenced to a century of enslavement." Dobby shuddered. "Forest elves are horrible masters. They would make my time with the Malfoys seem like a happy holiday."

Harry couldn't fathom such a thing. "When will you know?"

Dobby shrugged. "A long while. As I said, elven justice moves slowly. I just wanted Harry Potter to know."

"Well, if there is anything I can do… just tell me."

Dobby beamed. "Thank you, Harry Potter!" His eyes welled with tears that Harry quickly staved off with a question.

"We think Voldemort might be hanging around the forest or somewhere close by Hogwarts. Do you want to do some spying for the Order?"

Dobby nodded. "Yes, of course, Harry Potter."

"Well, go talk to Lupin, then. I'm sure he'll find somewhere for you to look."

Dobby disappeared.

Harry sighed. Elven Council. Another freakish complication he didn't need

43 Death Eaters

Hermione vaguely heard Harry calling them from the Trophy Room. Draco was seated on the marble floor, leaning against the scabbard display and Hermione was in his lap, pleasantly lost in a fog of bliss.

Harry's voice grew louder as he entered the Armor Room. Hermione fought her way out of Draco's embrace with effort and stood up shakily.

"Here!" she called brightly. She took Draco's hand and pulled him to his feet, surprised to note he looked just as dazed as she felt.

Harry blinked at them when he approached. Hermione giggled at Draco's disheveled appearance.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Harry asked dryly.

Hermione shook her head, but Draco said, "Yes. Can you make yourself disappear, Potter?"

"Never mind," Hermione said. "We were just… looking at the displays. What did Dobby have to say?"

Harry frowned.

"Malfoy, have you ever heard of the Elven Council?"

Draco paused in smoothing his hair back to its normal perfection, although Hermione thought he looked delectable with it hanging over his eyes in a silver curtain…

"Elven what?" he asked.

"That's what I thought. It doesn't matter, at the moment. We were going to fetch the map, remember?"

"What map?" Draco snapped.

"You'll see. Come on. The sooner we check this, the sooner you two can get back to snogging."

Hermione blushed, but Draco laughed.

"Smartest thing you've said all week, Potter."

They were nearly to the fourth floor landing when a cry from below halted them. They stopped and peered over the railing at Ginny Weasley, who bolted up the steps, looking agitated.

Hermione felt a sinking sensation, wondering if they received bad news of Percy.

"Harry, come quickly!" Ginny yelled when she was near enough to be heard. "Susan Bones just killed the Carrows!"

"She what?"

Harry raced down the stairs two at a time, followed by Hermione and Draco.

"She tried to get Greyback, too, but he kept dodging her Avada Kedavras. Nearly blew his cell to pieces. Moody had to knock him out and move him."

The Great Hall had an atmosphere of shocked silence.

"How did it happen?" Hemione asked Fred and George, who stood nearby.

"We came in here and announced that Percy was alive," said Fred.

"Mum started going all to pieces again, knowing Percy was trapped somewhere," George continued.

"Possibly tortured."

"Susan got up and walked out."

"Hagrid came in from outside and heard the shouting."

"Susan was screaming, calling them murderers."

"By the time Hagrid tackled her, it was too late for the Carrows and Greyback was pretty singed."

"Too bad Hagrid wasn't a bit slower," Draco said dryly. No one contradicted him.

"And Wormtail?" Hermione asked.

"She doesn't know who or what he is. She let him be."

"Another pity," Draco commented. "We should have labeled his cage."

"Where is Susan?" asked Neville. He and Luna had come in to hear the tail end of the story.

"Sedated in the hospital wing," said Ginny.

"They'll have to turn her over to the Ministry, of course," said Fred.

"McGonagall went to contact them."

"I'll go sit with Susan," Neville said quietly. "After what happened to my Gran, I sort of understand how she feels."

"I'll go with you," Luna said.

Bill Weasley stood up from where he'd been sitting near his parents.

"Since most of you are here now," he said, "I have an announcement. We have decided the wedding will be held August fifteenth, and the ceremony will be outside, near the lake. You are, of course, all invited."

Fleur suddenly burst into tears and fled the Hall. Bill hurried after her. Draco looked confused.

"What? Now she doesn't want to get married?" he asked. Hermione rolled her eyes. Males were so dense, sometimes.

"This is supposed to be the happiest time of her life, and look what's happened. Percy kidnapped. Death Eaters everywhere. The Ministry in danger. Voldemort a complete unknown… of course she's upset."

"Maybe they should postpone the wedding," Harry suggested.

"Well, that would be admitting defeat, wouldn't it?" Hermione said forcefully. Ginny nodded.

"I'd better go talk to Ron," Harry decided. He and Ginny moved away.

Hermione looked at Draco seriously.

"We have to go tonight," she said quietly. His silver gaze sharpened. "I feel like we're running out of time."

Draco slipped out the large front door with a brief thought back to the number of times he'd crept out the same doors. Those days seemed so carefree and simple, now.

He hurried down the steps and around the side of the castle to find Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom waiting for him.

"Where's Granger?"

Ron made a sound of disgust and even in the dark, Draco could picture him rolling his eyes.

"She stopped by the library again to check on something. If she could find a way to bring the whole library along, she would."

Draco glanced at the sky. No stars were visible. Clouds had begun to roll in shortly after dusk. Longbottom yawned.

Hermione finally hurried up.

"Sorry," she said. "Let's go."

They mounted brooms—Hermione rode with Draco by unspoken agreement and he wished he had his own broom. It was back at Malfoy Manor. Even Weasley's broom was better than the substandard school broom Draco rode. Luckily, the distance was short. Once beyond the school walls, they Disapparated.

The graveyard near Godric's Hollow was creepy at night, which was most likely true of all graveyards everywhere. Rain was spitting fitfully.

"Perfect night for grave digging," Draco said cheerfully. Weasley gave him a toxic glare.

Hermione had brought a backpack filled with supplies. Salt was useless in the rain, but she had also brought sand. She poured it out into a pentagram around Lily Potter's grave. The candles were more challenging as it began to rain in earnest shortly before they lit the candles. After they went out several times, Hermione commandeered a nearby vase, broke it, and transfigured the pieces into covered holders for the candles.

Hermione had instructed Neville on his part earlier and he invoked his quarter nervously, but managed not to stutter. Ron and Draco did theirs and when the circle was complete Hermione pulled out her wand and began the complex incantation to cancel the wards.

They quickly became soaked as they waited. Draco had worn a cloak, but the hood did little to keep the rain off his face. He blew at a droplet of water that hovered on his nose.

Hermione finally finished and quickly cast another spell. She sagged in relief.

"I think it worked," she said. "No ward lines."

Draco hadn't doubted her for a moment.

"All right, let's get this dirt out of here."

"Wait! I want to disturb the site as little as possible," Hermione said. "Not just because it's the right thing to do, but I also don't want Voldemort to know we were here, if at all possible."

The four of them used their wands to cut the grassy hillock from the grave and set it gently aside to expose the soil beneath. After that, it was sheer, grueling labor to levitate out as much dirt as they could life—soil that was quickly turning to heavy mud.

Finally, the top of the coffin became visible. They barely had time to sigh in relief before the crack of Apparition shocked them out of their tired stupors.

Three masked Death Eaters stood among them. There was a stunned moment of silence before they all erupted into action.

Draco threw himself sideways and leveled a blast that sent one Death Eater sprawling backward. Hermione cried out, hit by something. Draco looked at her worriedly, but she thankfully remained on her feet.

He heard Weasley shout and glanced back to see Ron dodge a green blast. Weasley shot an orange bolt at his attacker, who slipped in the mud and narrowly avoided it.

Neville was down on one knee, blasting madly with his wand like an American gunfighter shooting at a running Death Eater.

Hermione giggled and threw her arms wide before spinning in a giddy circle. Draco groaned. Confundus. He pointed his wand at her, intending to counter the spell, but the Death Eater he'd hit originally was up again. Draco felt a spell tug at his hood as it passed and experienced a moment of alarm, hoping his hair wasn't singed. He shot an absent curse at the man and tried to get to Hermione.

Neville's opponent suddenly turned and hit Longbottom full on with something. Neville dropped like a stone.

Another spell shot by Draco and he glared before sending his patented gale force wind at the man, who miraculously braced himself and did not fall.

"Malfoy!" the Death Eater yelled in recognition. Draco swore roundly. He had assumed the Death Eaters to be standard-issue underlings, like Crabbe, Goyle, and McNair. Now, he wasn't so sure. What if the Dark Lord had sent someone competent, like Lars or Mulciber? As if on cue, Ron went down with a yelp. Draco shot a Full Body Bind at Weasley's attacker an instant before he was enveloped in pain.

Draco went down on one knee, trying to fight the blinding excrutiation. Neville's attacker had hit Draco with the Cruciatus Curse—the other one laughed chillingly and Malfoy felt fear begin to overwhelm his pain.

"You are alive, Draco," Mulciber yelled. "Did you desert us for this? A girl?"

The agony forced Draco to his knees. He put one hand in the mud and it clenched convulsively as he strove to keep from screaming. His teeth were clenched in an effort not to bite his tongue.

"Will you come back to us when she's dead?" Mulciber continued conversationally. "Let's see, shall we?"

Ron's wail of denial behind him told Draco that Weasley was alive, but wandless.

Mulciber raised his own wand and gestured at Hermione. Draco's wand was still clenched in his hand. Using every ounce of willpower, he fought the Cruciatus Curse and lifted his wand. It seemed to move through molasses—slowly, too slowly. Green light erupted from Mulciber's wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" Draco screamed through a haze of red. Mulciber was felled like a tree and Draco was suddenly free. He sagged in the mud for only a moment before scrambling to Hermione's prone form.

"You killed Mulciber?" the other Death Eater yelled in disbelief. "Malfoy?"

Draco paused long enough the stun the bastard—Rabastan or Antonin, he thought, and then he was cradling Hermione in his wet arms.

"Oh God, don't let her be dead," he begged, nearly overwhelmed at how much he needed it to be true. He shifted her slightly and raised his muddy hand to feel for a pulse at her throat. To his utter shock, her brown eyes blinked at him semi-lucidly.

"I fell down," she said in a stage whisper and giggled.

Draco buried her face in his chest in relief and felt a hot wetness sting his eyes for a moment.

"Mmmm, you're warm and you smell so good," Hermione purred. Her voice was muffled by his shirt. "Do I know you?"

Draco smiled gently and touched her with his wand to cancel the Confundus Charm. Her bemused gaze cleared instantly.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't know," Draco admitted. "I thought you were dead."

"She tripped," said Ron behind him. "Right when he cast—it barely missed her."

Draco swiveled his head around to look at Weasley. Ron was lying in the mud, looking as though he'd dragged himself forward with his hands.

"You okay, Weasley?"

"I can't move my legs. And my wand is gone."

Draco cancelled the Leg Locker Curse on Ron while Hermione Accioed his wand, which snapped into her hand from the undergrowth.

"Where's Neville?" she cried when Ron stood up and retrieved his wand. Draco helped her to her feet.

"He went down over there," he said and pointed. If the Death Eater who had hit him was Dolohov, Longbottom might not be getting up. Ron hurried over to check on Neville and Draco walked to Ron's former attacker, who was still stiff from Draco's Full Body Bind. Malfoy knelt and tore off the mask.

"Hello, Gerald," he said to Goyle. "Nice to see you, again."

The Death Eater's eyes registered surprise for a moment, but Draco left him to remove the mask from Titus Mulciber, whose dead eyes stared into the rain, unseeing.

"Neville's okay!" Ron called. "Hit with a Stunner, looks like!"

Hermione joined Draco. She gasped at Mulciber.

"My God! Did you—?"

Draco nodded and laughed humorlessly. "Looks like I really am a killer."

"I can't believe it," she murmured and Draco's jaw clenched. He'd acted on impulse, but he hadn't hesitated to use the Unforgivable Curse. Potter would never have done it. He would have used a Stunner or Disarming Charm or something non-lethal. Now, Hermione knew what Draco was capable of. Regardless that he'd done it for her, she would still be properly appalled. He could practically feel her shrinking away from him.

Draco turned and walked abruptly to the last Death Eater, unwilling to meet her accusatory gaze. Ripping away the mask, Draco revealed Dolohov, who was unconscious. Malfoy conjured ropes to bind him further, and then did the same to Goyle. He levitated them and bound them to nearby headstones, making sure they would be unable to view the upcoming proceedings.

Neville was up, looking rather annoyed at having been knocked out. Hermione touched Malfoy's arm.

"Draco—" she started, but he shook her off.

"Let's get this done with, before he sends reinforcements."

"How did they know we were here?" Ron asked. "I thought we broke the wards."

Hermione cast a spell into the grave to reveal another set of glowing lines.

"How could I be so stupid?" she cried. "Second wards, right above the coffin. I should have guessed!"

"It doesn't matter," Draco said shortly. "It's already been triggered, so we no longer have to worry about it." He issued terse instructions and Hermione stood at the base of the grave, ready for anything, while the others cast an opening spell. The coffin lid snapped upward with a crack and they all cast Lumos spells.

Lily Potter's corpse was no prettier than any other body that had been lying in the ground for over a decade. The hair was a dull red, and looked almost too lifelike on the grayish skull.

Hermione turned away with a sob and the other two looked like they might be ill. Draco ignored them and knelt to peer closer at the body, increasing the light from his wand. Prisms of light glinted from an object on Lily's left wrist—the Ravenclaw bracelet.

"So… who volunteers to hop down there and get it?" Draco asked lightly. Both Weasley and Longbottom stepped back, horrified. Draco sighed. "That's what I thought."

Bloody squeamish Gryffindors.

"Wait, there might be a trap!" Hermione said. "Can't we just levitate the bracelet out?"

She tried several times, but it could not quite fit over the wrist bones, even though it seemed impossible that it wouldn't. Draco swore and impulsively jumped into the grave, ignoring Hermione's cry of protest.

Draco was prepared for just about anything, but he was still surprised when Lily Potter sat up and clamped a bony hand around his leg.

Hermione shrieked as Lily's corpse began to pull itself upright and the leering jaws gaped open. The Gryffindors began to pelt the body with spells while shouting madly. Draco began to shout, also, hoping to be heard over the din.

"Stop it!" he bellowed. "Inferi are immune, damn it! They're already dead!"

The jets of light either bounced off the corpse or were absorbed. Several ricocheted and nearly hit Draco. If one of the idiots Stunned him, he was dead.

"STOP!" he thundered. Lily's face drew close to Draco's groin as she pulled herself upright with the painful grip below his knee. He felt the circulation in his foot going fast. He put his left hand out and kept her clicking teeth away with a tight grasp on her jaw, cringing when his fingers sank into the decomposing gore.

The nearness of his flesh seemed to excite her and she strove to turn her head and bite Draco's arm. Her strength was incredible and Draco felt his sinews strain with effort.

"Draco!" Hermione screamed. "What should we do?"

"Nothing!" he gritted loudly. He pointed his wand at the Inferius and began to chant. A Binding was effective against the undead and similar horrors, but it took a bloody long time to cast.

Lily's other clawed hand reached up and snagged his waistband, dragging her long nails through the flesh of his waist. Draco winced, but his chanting did not falter. The Inferius heaved herself at him suddenly and he jerked backward to avoid the teeth that clicked where his belly had been an instant before. Draco's chant became a shout and finally a deep purple cloud began to form around the body.

The Inferius began to wail—a horrific, unworldly noise that raised the hairs on the back of Draco's neck—as it sensed its prey beginning to escape. The snapping jaws bit at the air more savagely and frantically. Then, it was still. Draco was completely drenched now. Covered in sweat on the inside and rain on the outside. He panted with exertion.

"Get off of me," he ordered. The Inferius obediently released him and he felt the blood begin to flow back into his left foot. He shook it experimentally. Lily's body scooted away from him. The eye sockets seemed to stare at him balefully.

"Now, give me the bracelet," he snapped. She reached a bony hand to the bracelet and slipped it easily off her other wrist. It dangled between them from the nearly fleshless bones of her fingers.

"Well," he said. "That was too easy. Give me something to put this in."

Hermione handed down the leather bag that had contained the sand.

Draco held it open beneath the bracelet.

"Drop it," he said. The sapphire encrusted trinket slipped into the bag and Draco tossed it up and out of the grave. If there was another curse on it, they could deal with it back at Hogwarts.

"Now, lie down like a good dead body," he commanded and the Inferius obediently, if somewhat petulantly, resumed its original position. Draco levitated himself out of the hole and slammed the lid of the coffin with a spell.

"Should we just leave her like that?" Hermione asked anxiously. He looked at her sadly.

"It's not Lily Potter. It's just a husk of flesh, animated by a dark spell. It will lie still as soon as we replace the soil."

"Can't we free it?"

"We don't have time. The Dark Lord will be wondering where his underlings are any moment, if they were sent to check the wards and return. We need to get the hell out of here. If you like, we can return later." His voice was sharper than intended.

Hermione nodded soberly and raised her chin.

"Let's cover it, then," she said and they started to lever the mud back into the grave. When that filthy job was finished, they replaced the grassy knoll. Draco looked around. The whole area was torn and muddy—it looked like… well, it looked like a battle had been fought there.

"So much for being inconspicuous," he commented.

"There's no help for it," Hermione said as she gathered the guttering and unlit candles. She tossed them into the bag with the bracelet and slung it over her shoulder. She took a moment to repair and replace the vase she had stolen from a nearby grave, something that wouldn't even have occurred to Draco. "What should we do with…?" She gestured to Mulciber.

"We'll have to take him. And the others. No sense broadcasting what we've done. If he checks for the Horcrux, he'll know we have it and the whole secret is out. I don't plan to leave him any witnesses, alive or dead."

Ron was charged with taking Gerald Goyle and Hermione grabbed Antonin Dolohov. Draco partially hefted Mulciber's body. The four conspirators and three incapacitated Death Eaters appeared back near Hogwarts' outer wall, covered in mud that the rain couldn't wash off.

Even with brooms, it would be a long, silent journey back to the castle.

44 Draco's Surprise

They opened the front doors as quietly as possible, to find Harry and Ginny waiting for them in the Front Hall.

"All right, where the hell have you been?" Harry snapped angrily.

"Collecting Death Eaters," Draco said mildly. "Since we were running low."

Hermione maneuvered the levitated Dolohov and Goyle into the Hufflepuff dungeon. Neither moved as Malfoy had unceremoniously Stunnedthem the moment they had started struggling in their bonds. Hermione was concerned about Draco's current state of mind—he seemed to have reverted back to his traditional icy demeanor.

They locked the Death Eaters into empty cells. Greyback watched them pass in silence.

"We brought you some new playmates, Fenrir," Draco said companionably.

"You'll pay for crossing the Dark Lord, Malfoy," Greyback muttered ominously.

Draco sneered. "Spoken like a loyal Death Eater," he said in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Iam loyal!" Fenrir snarled.

"You're loyal only to your own twisted ends and everyone knows it!"

"Then it's lucky my objective coincides with the Dark Lord's, doesn't it?"

"Lucky. Too bad you're stuck in a cage instead of out there living your glorious life, eh?"

"Not for long, Malfoy. Not for long." Fenrir showed his teeth in a horrific grin.

Hermione paused at that and noticed Draco did the same. The werewolf sounded too confident. She made a note to tell Lupin about it in the morning.

They filed out of the dungeon. Hermione touched her face, which itched where the mud was starting to dry.

"Are you going to tell me where you've been?" Harry asked impatiently and Hermione giggled when she looked at the others.

"Mud wrestling?" she suggested. Ron looked worse than any of them. His arms were brown up to the elbows and much of his clothing was completely covered. Draco wore all black, but his legs had a coating of brown, as well as one arm and most of his cloak. He had mud in his hair, which had to be driving him crazy. He kept picking at it fastidiously. Hermione's hair was so caked she felt like she wore dreadlocks.

"Granger can explain," Draco said shortly. "I'm for a bath and then bed. See you tomorrow."

With that, he stalked for the stairs and disappeared.

"Good idea," said Neville, knocking a drying clod from one arm. He followed Malfoy, likely heading for the Prefect's bath. Hermione sighed and reluctantly went back outside. Harry accompanied her, trailed by Ron and Ginny.

"I'm not sure what to do with the body," she said. Mulciber's corpse lay at the base of the steps. "I suppose I should wake McGonagall."

Harry gaped. "Is he—?"

"Dead. Malfoy killed him," Ron said abruptly. He tugged a bit of mud from his hair. "He fought a Cruciatus Curse to do it. I've never seen anything like it. He still would have been too late, though. If Hermione hadn't fallen, Mulciber would have killed her. I hate to think what Malfoy would have done, then."

"What do you mean?" Hermoine asked.

"It was amazing," Ron said. "I never would have believed it, but Malfoy… he wasn't even fighting. He was just trying to get to you. If Mulciber had killed you, I think Malfoy would have taken them all out without a second thought. You should have seen his face when he thought you were dead."

Hermione suddenly felt like weeping. She remembered Draco's words at the grave site. Looks like I really am a killer. She needed to find him… talk to him.

"So, you just felt like going out and battling some Death Eaters?" Harry asked tightly, still fishing for information.

"No, we went to get this," Hermione said and opened the leather bag to show Harry the bracelet, remembering at the last moment not to touch it.

"The Ravenclaw bracelet!" Harry breathed. "Where was it?"

"I'd rather not say. The problem is Voldemort may figure out that we have it. Since the Death Eaters showed up, we weren't able to remove it very inconspicuously."

"What's so important about a bracelet?" Ginny asked. Harry exhaled heavily.

"Justtell her, Harry," Hermione snapped. "Our big secret isn't going to be a secret much longer. Besides, after we take care of this, there should only be one left."

She closed the bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"All right," Harry said. "Ginny, let's take a walk. I probably should have told you a long time ago…"

They moved off toward the lake. Hermione sighed tiredly.

"I'll go fetch McGonagall," Ron offered. "I won't tell her about the Horcrux—that should come from Harry. Cor, I can't really even tell her where we were… she'll freak."

"Just tell her we'll explain in the morning. Maybe we can think up a decent story, by then."

Ron nodded. "You'd better go find Malfoy."

She blinked at him in surprise. Ron shrugged.

"He's bitter enough without beating himself up over this scum." He nudged Mulciber's body with a toe. "Bill and Charlie told me stories about Mulciber. He helped kill my uncles. He would have killed us all and laughed about it, later. Frankly, Malfoy did us a favor."

Hermione threw her arms around Ron and impulsively kissed him on the cheek. Then, she stepped back and spat on the ground.

"Why do I always get that reaction from you?" Ron asked dryly. She laughed.

"It's not you—it's the dirt on your face."

Ron rubbed at it absently and grinned. She smiled.

"Thanks, Ron."

"Don't mention it."

Hermione turned and went inside. A bath was definitely the first order of business. A glance at her watch showed it to be nearly one in the morning. She went to her room and tucked the leather bag under her mattress. They would have to deal with the bracelet tomorrow.

A half-hour later, clean, dry, and wrapped in cozy flannel pajamas and dressing gown, she made her way down to the Slytherin common room.

Draco was already asleep, sprawled across his bed as if he'd thrown himself there. Thankfully, he wore dark silk boxers, since he hadn't even bothered to draw back the covers. She listened to his breathing for a moment and admired his lithe form stretched out over his blankets. She should probably let him sleep, but she felt it couldn't wait until tomorrow. She sat down next to him and reached out to touch his soft hair. It was still slightly damp from his bath.

His silver eyes snapped open and his wand appeared in his hand at the same instant. The wariness disappeared from his gaze when he groaned.

"Granger. Did you come to torture me?"

"No. I came to thank you for saving my life."

He blinked at her for a moment, as if trying to wake up.

"I didn't save you—your incredible Gryffindor luck did that."

She shook her head in denial. "You think Mulciber wouldn't have tried again in the next moment?"

Draco rolled over and braced his head on a cocked elbow to look at her curiously.

"I didn't have to kill him. The Chosen One wouldn't have killed him," he said bitterly.

"Will you stop comparing yourself to Harry?" she snapped.

"Why? Because I'll never measure up?" he demanded sharply.

She buried her face in her hands in frustration. Why did she always seem to end up arguing with him?

"Look, I just want you to know I don't think any less of you for killing him."

"Why not?"

Why not? He expected reasons? How could she explain how she felt? How could she admit to being glad someone like Mulciber would never be able to hurt anyone again? How could she describe her sheer elation that Draco cared enough for her to kill without hesitation? How could she tell him that waking up from a Confundus to find him holding her with almost intense anxiety had been incredible? How could she possibly rationalize the knowledge that she would forgive him just about anything?

"Because I… I…" She was suddenly tongue-tied and felt her hands twist together fretfully. "I should go. I'm sorry I woke you."

She got to her feet, but his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

"Come here," he said with a sigh. "I never see you at a loss for words except when you're with me. Why is that?"

"Because you make me nervous," she admitted. His thumb caressed her wrist gently as she sat back down, affirming her words.

"I'm too tired to make you nervous right now," he said and let his head drop to the pillow. "I'll give it a go in the morning, all right?"

He tugged her wrist insistently and pulled her down to lay next to him. She curled next to him with an exhalation of tired surrender and slipped her arm over his waist. She lay her cheek against his chest and felt his face in her hair. He breathed deeply.

"Why do you always smell like apples?" he murmured.

She smiled softly. "Why do you always feel like heaven?" she whispered, so quietly she didn't think he heard her, but his arms tightened around her for a moment. Hermione sighed in contentment and drifted off to sleep.

A small sound woke Draco. He reached up under his pillow and grasped his wand silently. The sound came again—a faked cough.

"Malfoy? Are you awake?"

Draco groaned inwardly. It was Potter. He wondered what the hell would bring The Boy Who Annoyed down here at… whatever ludicrous time it was.

"I am now," Draco muttered.

"Is Hermione here?" Potter asked.

She most definitely was, wrapped around Draco like a cozy blanket.

"She's asleep," Malfoy said.

"Iwas asleep," she corrected groggily. Her lips brushed Draco's bare chest as she spoke, and sent a pleasant tingling through Draco's nerve endings.

"I need to talk to you, Hermione," Harry said briskly. "I'll…uh… wait out here."

His footsteps retreated.

"Remind me to change that damned password," Draco said as Hermione raised her hand to look at her watch.

"Good idea," she said. "It's barely eight a.m.—doesn't he ever sleep?"

Hermione rolled away from Draco and lit her wand dimly. She looked around for a moment in puzzlement.

"Oh. I didn't wear shoes." She got up and padded out, barefoot. Draco pondered going back to sleep, but curiosity made him sit up and light a lamp. He tugged some clothes on and walked out to the common room, which Potter had lit up like a damned stadium. Draco blinked against the brightness.

He stopped dead at the sight of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger wrapped in an intimate embrace. Potter's arms were tight around Hermione's waist and her hands held Harry—one of them was in Potter's dark hair… In an instant, all the hatred Draco had ever felt for Harry Potter returned in a rush. Draco felt such a blinding moment of pure rage that he actually raised his wand, thinking Potter would look quite a lot better with a set of moose antlers. He opened his mouth to tell Potter to get his bloody hands off of her—

Then Hermione's gaze met Draco's, full of such sympathetic remorse that Malfoy paused.

"Ron told Harry where we were last night," she said softly. Draco felt his anger dissipate as though burst like a bubble. It was replaced by a stunning revelation. He leaned against the doorway and stared at them like an idiot, wondering when the hell he had allowed himself to fall in love with Hermione Granger.

Potter was speaking, but Draco barely heard him as he staggered forward and sank into a padded chair.

"I'll kill him for this, Hermione. I've wanted to kill him before, for my parents, for Cedric, for Sirius—but this?" Potter's voice rose and he began pacing.

Draco needed a drink.

"Wasn't it enough that he killed them?" Harry yelled. "Did he have to turn my mum into… into…?" Potter buried his face in his hands with a sob and Hermione hurried forward to hug him again. She crooned to him soothingly. Malfoy watched in curious detachment, thinking back.

It could have been the morning he woke up in her house and went downstairs to find she had nervously cooked enough breakfast for a dozen people. That long ago? He smiled in bemusement at the memory.

"I want that Horcrux destroyed," Potter gritted. He stepped away from Hermione and dragged an arm across his eyes. "I want it destroyednow."

Hermione nodded soberly.

"I'll get it," she said softly. Harry bobbed his head abruptly and went out. Hermione watched him leave with a worried expression. She looked at Draco and her eyes widened. She hurried over to press a cool hand against his forehead.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "You look terribly pale—have you been taking your potions?"

Draco shakily took her hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles.

"I'm fine," he murmured, although he felt far from fine. She sighed, as if realizing that nagging him would be futile.

"I'd better go get the bracelet before Harry decides to blast apart the girl's dorm to find it himself."

Draco brusquely yanked her down into his lap and kissed her, enjoying the way she melted into his arms after only an instant's hesitation. His kiss was gentle at first, and then bruising as he tried to convince himself that what he felt for her was simple lust and nothing more. She gripped his face with both hands and pushed herself away forcibly.

"Seriously—I have to get the Horcrux. I've seen him like this before—he has no patience. I'll meet you in the room where we destroyed the cup…that is, if you want to do this."

"I want to do this," he said and kissed her again. Hermione laughed against his mouth and pushed him away.

"Later," she promised. She hopped out of his lap and danced away before he could grab her. She walked around the Slytherin couch and started out.

"Hermione?" he called huskily. She gasped and stopped as if she'd hit a wall. He grinned wickedly at her transfixed expression.

"Never mind," he said lightly.

Her eyes narrowed in perplexed uncertainty, and then she shook her head and went out. Draco leaned back and propped his arms behind his head with a heavy sigh. What the hell was he going to do if life ever returned to normal? He couldn't possibly be in love with Hermione Granger. It was unthinkable.

He pictured his father's face at the news. God, Lucius would absolutely forbid their relationship… and then Draco would be forced to tell his own father to get stuffed.

Draco clenched his hands in his hair convulsively.

Bloody hell, he was turning into a Gryffindor!

Hermione walked through the maze that exited the Slytherin common room, feeling completely baffled. Her own name kept bouncing around her skull. What had possessed Draco to call her that? He had never done it before… not once. It was always "Granger." Always. She felt hot and cold at once, remembering it, and cursed herself for letting a single word from him affect her. Damn Draco Malfoy! Would she ever figure him out?

Harry was waiting for her impatiently in the Gryffindor common room. He watched her without comment until she returned with the bag containing the Horcrux.

"So…you and Malfoy…?"

Hermione face flamed and she realized it hadn't even occurred to her what it must have looked like for Harry to have found them together. In Draco's bed.

"How did you know where I was?" she asked sheepishly.

"Ginny told me you never made it to bed… I sort of guessed."

"We were only sleeping," she said defensively.

"Okay," Harry said mildly. She glared at him.

"Where is Ginny, anyway?"

"Breakfast. She was tired of listening to me yell at Ron."

"And where's Ron?"

"Probably in the Stone room, by now. He went to fetch all the supplies. Salt, candles, and so on."

"You shouldn't have yelled at Ron. It was my idea not to tell you. With good reason, I might add."

Harry scowled. "Don't you think I should know that my own mother is now an Inferius?"

"No, I do not. All it did was upset you."

"Yeah, well, I've been upset before. I've learned to deal with it. Are you planning to get dressed, or are we going to destroy this Horcrux with you in your pajamas?"

She nearly went down in her pajamas just to irritate him, but after a stubborn moment, she returned to her room and put some clothes on.

The bracelet Horcrux went the way of the cup, with little change except an audience. Neville, Ginny, and Luna had all come down to watch. Draco kept yawning, which put a less than sober face on the ceremony. Hermione was getting tired just watching him. They were, however, careful to make no mistakes.

Harry rubbed his hands together in satisfaction when they exited the circle, leaving the black and twisted ring of sapphire-studded metal where it lay.

"Fabulous. Another Horcrux down," Draco said. "I'm going back to bed."

They all followed Malfoy back to the third floor where they were nearly run down by the frantic Weasley twins.

"There you are!" George yelled.

"We've been looking everywhere for you!"

"What's happened?" Hermione asked.

"Dad got a message regarding Percy. They want to exchange him for Fenrir Greyback!"

"What? How does Voldemort know we have Greyback?" Harry asked.

"Well, the Ministry knows. And You-Know-Who is likely to have agents there."

"Regardless, we're not turning over Fenrir. We have a plan."

The twins started back downstairs, detailing the plan as they went. When they finished, Hermione reflected with admiration that it might actually work.

45 Rescue and Escape

The Great Hall was in an uproar again. Draco was starting to think uproar followed Weasley's around.

He sat down and bit into a golden apple while the group began to argue. The prisoner exchange was to take place in Trafalgar Square in London. All of the Weasleys wanted to go, of course.

The redheaded stick girl was immediately crossed off the list, much to her shrieking, stamping indignation. Draco vowed to get Potter a set of earplugs for his birthday. If they all lived that long.

Hermione sat down next to Draco and reached for a bunch of grapes. Her hip rested against his and their shoulders overlapped. He tried to remember if she had ever sat so close to him before. It made him slightly tense.

Draco was distracted by Ron joining the fray. Apparently, Mrs. Weasley had forbidden ickle-Ronnikins to attend, even though he was of age. The shouting grew even louder when Potter announced that he was going. Rufus Scrimgeour appeared via Floo Network and began issuing orders. The adults unanimously agreed the The Boy Who Lived would be The Boy Who Stayed at Hogwarts. Scrimgeour supported Molly and commanded Ron to stay, also, mostly to annoy Potter, Draco figured. The Minister didn't seem to like Harry much. Three enraged Gryffindors plopped themselves next to Draco and Hermione.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you, Malfoy," Scrimgeour warned Draco. "As soon as I return, we're going to have a full investigation into the deaths of Titus Mulciber and Albus Dumbledore."

"Severus Snape killed Dumbledore!" Hermione burst out, rising to Draco's defense like an angry lioness. "And Mulciber nearly killed us all! Draco acted in self-defense!"

"We will see," Scrimgeour said shortly. "Bring the werewolf."

Lupin entered, looking ashen and subdued. He had a chained Fenrir in tow. The werewolf seemed jaunty and relaxed. The room emptied quickly after that as they departed in groups for the Ministry of Magic. From there they would Apparate to London.

"Why didn't you go, Hermione?" Ron asked when the place had nearly cleared out. Of Hogwarts staff, only McGonagall and Pomfrey remained. Draco assumed Hagrid was around somewhere, as he hadn't been present for the mass exodus. Perhaps Filch. And the centaur, of course.

"I think most of the Order and half the Ministry is quite enough people to rescue Percy," she said. "Besides, we have a Trinket to locate."

Ron groaned. "Back to the library?"

"You guessed it."

"We're going to seach every bloody book that has even a passing reference to Godric Gryffindor," Harry said grimly. "We've got to find that last Horcrux."

Neville entered just as they were leaving, so they dragged him along after he collected a plate of food. Luna joined them. Draco had planned to go back to bed, but he felt more awake after eating.

Draco sat across from Hermione at a long table. If she wondered why he did not sit next to her, she didn't ask. He couldn't think clearly when she was leaning on him. Like Luna was at the moment. The Ravenclaw girl was cuddled up next to Draco like a happy kitten, clinging to his left arm while she idly flipped the pages of a book with her other hand. Her head was snuggled against his shoulder.

"Why do you suppose the Dark Lord wants to exchange Weasley for Greyback?" Draco asked suddenly. Several pairs of bored eyes suddenly fixed on him. "Doesn't it seem odd?"

"He must have plans for Fenrir," Harry suggested.

"I'm sure he does. The problem is that all the Death Eaters are expendable. Frankly, I think he'd rather just kill Weasley than go through the trouble of a prisoner exchange. There has to be more to it."

Ron stood up and took over Harry's usual pacing. Since no one had any further thoughts to add to the discussion, they went back to their books. Harry and Ginny wandered to a window niche and did more romantic gazing into each other's eyes than reading. At this pace, it would take them six weeks to find any useful information.

Luna raised her head and placed a sweet kiss on Draco's jaw. He saw Hermione smile sardonically and she raised a brow at him.

"Um…Luna?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"You do know that Granger and I are… sort of… together?" he managed. Both of Hermione's brows shot up at that statement. Draco scowled. She needn't look so damned surprised.

"Oh yes," Luna said. "It's obvious you two are passionately in love."

Hermione's cheeks turned an interesting shade of red at that comment and Draco blanched.

"Then why are you kissing me?" Draco asked, soldiering on. He reached up and wiped at the lipstick smear with his thumb.

"Because you smell so good. And you're always nice to me, now. Not like before. You were horrid. But now you're sweet. And I do like kissing."

"Maybe you should try kissing someone else for awhile," Draco suggested. Luna sat up and swiveled her head around. Neville sat nearby and his face turned beet red when her eyes fixed on him.

"Maybe I should," she agreed. She slid across the bench and practically pounced on Neville before he could escape. She planted an exuberant kiss on him. Longbottom's eyes were wide as saucers and stayed that way even after she released him. Luna tsked.

"You're stiff as a board, Neville. You should learn to relax."

Hermione began to chuckle. Draco heard her even though she tried to stifle it and he grinned at her. At least Luna was never boring. The Ravenclaw girl got to her feet. Within two steps, it was obvious she was stalking Ron, who started to back away in a panic.

"Now, Luna, I'm sure Malfoy was only joking about the kissing thing," he said quickly.

"Don't be shy. I saw you kissing Lavender Brown hundreds of times."

Ron backed himself into a table and then Luna sprang. His cry of protest was muffled by her kiss. The others watched in astonishment when Luna refused to release Weasley and her arms went around his neck like a python closing in for the kill.

After a long, long moment, Weasley relaxed and his hands gradually slid around Luna's waist. Draco looked at Hermione in bemusement and she clamped both hands over her mouth to keep from laughing. Weasley and Lovegood seemed oblivious to the rest of them.

"At least she's not kissing me, anymore," Draco muttered. They tried to ignore the snogging couple and went back to their tomes, but Draco kept glancing at the pretty blush tinting Hermione's cheeks. He had to fight the urge to get up and drag her into the bookshelves for some kissing of his own.

McGonagall suddenly appeared in the doorway. Luna released Ron with a squeak of surprise. Weasley looked rather dazed.

"You all need to come with me," McGonagall said seriously. "Do not ask questions. Just hurry."

Hermione looked at Draco in concern, but she stood up and followed the Headmistress out. They all filed upstairs to McGonagall's office. When the stairwell had safely sealed behind them, she said, "Fenrir Greyback and the other Death Eaters have escaped."

"What do you mean Fenrir has escaped?" Harry demanded. "From the Order? What about Percy?"

McGonagall shook her head sharply. "Greyback was never with the Order. He was downstairs in the dungeon the entire time. Nymphadora Tonks went with the others, pretending to be Fenrir."

Hermione gasped. Draco was mystified. No wonder Lupin had looked like he was about to vomit.

"So, when you say Fenrir has now escaped…" Hermione prodded.

"Yes, from the Hufflepuff dungeon. Hagrid went to check on them and the cells had been opened."

"Wormtail?" Draco asked.

"Gone, as well."

"Who the hell let them out?" Harry bellowed. "They couldn't have escaped on their own!"

"That is less of a concern than determining where they are now," McGonagall said prudently. "You children will stay here. The others and I are searching the premises." Her gaze sharpened when she leveled it at Harry. "I mean it, Potter."

Harry nodded guilelessly and even Draco nearly believed he would stay put. Potter could really turn on the innocence when he wanted to.

The Headmistress went out. The instant she was gone, Potter's whole demeanor changed.

"I'm going to get the Marauder's Map. I can't believe I forgot to check it!" he said.

"I'll go with you," Ginny said.

"No! It's too dangerous! I—"

"Don't give me that crap, Harry!" the stick girl shrieked. "Now, we can stand here and argue all day or we can just go get the damned thing!"

Potter yanked at his hair in frustration. One. Two. Three. Four. Draco shook his head sadly. Harry was going to be bald before he was twenty if he stayed with Ginny Weasley.

"Fine! You lot stay here. We'll be right back."

Hermione was looking at the Pensieve memories. Draco lounged in a chair. Neville stood next to Fawkes and began to pet the phoenix. Draco wondered when the perch had been reinstalled. Luna maneuvered Ron into the window seat and they went back to their passionate snogging. Dumbledore's portrait was empty. The dead Headmaster was probably off having tea with one of the other portraits somewhere. His gaze flitted to the Sorting Hat. Wretched, ugly thing. At least it had been smart enough to put Draco in Slytherin before he even had to put the filthy thing on his head…

"Granger?" Draco was looking at Godric Gryffindor's sword in puzzlement. She turned her brown eyes on him. He gestured at the sword. "Where's the scabbard?"

Hermione looked at the bare sword and then gasped. Without a word, she turned and bolted for the stairs. Draco watched her disappear in amazement.

"Not again," Ron muttered, as her flight had surprised him and Luna out of their ardent clinch.

"Should I go after her?" Draco asked.

"She won't tell you anything, anyway. I doubt Greyback will show up in the library, which is most likely where she's off to. Better to wait for Harry. Then we can track her down."

Hermione wasn't heading for the library. She raced down to the fourth floor, alert for both teachers and escaped Death Eaters. Inside the Armor Gallery, she halted, panting, before the scabbard display where she and Draco had passionately embraced. She blushed when she remembered her last attempt to read the plaque, when Draco had grabbed her… She shook of the memory with a sigh. Malfoy could fluster her when he wasn't even nearby.

She bent down to read the inscription.

Scabbards of Famous Swords. Gifford Ollerton's sword, Fodio, was twisted into a knot by the giant Hoot-uk shortly after he killed Ollerton…Hermione skipped that. Glenmore Peakes… sea serpents…Her eyes picked out the words she sought. Godric Gryffindor…sword resides in the Headmaster's Office, but the scabbard is a thing of beauty, studded with finest rubies and…

Hermione shattered the case with a spell and reached in to take up the ruby-encrusted scabbard. She shook her head at the simplicity of it. Godric Gryffindor had left only two relics. The hat and the sword. They had all forgotten the sheath for the sword. The final Horcrux. It would have been so simple for Tom Riddle to access, here in the Armor Gallery, collecting dust.

She brushed a hand over the hard leather and gold edging. It really was beautiful. Too bad it would soon be a twisted mass of metal, leather and jewels. She hurried out.

Harry burst into the room, followed by Ginny. He was clutching a piece of parchment and a bundle of cloth.

"Snape is here!" Potter yelled. The tone of his voice suggested it was Draco's fault.

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked calmly. Potter threw the parchment down on McGonagall's desk and spread it out.

"Look!"

It was a map of the school, with tiny names moving upon it. Draco watched the little names in astonishment.

"Where did you get this? You bastard, no wonder it was so easy for you to sneak out all the time. Invisibility cloak and this? Bloody hell, it's hardly fair." Draco's eyes narrowed as he thought back to the number of times Potter could have used the map… Now that he thought about it, Potter had completely squandered such a valuable item. He could have done some serious damage to Draco, sneaking into the Slytherin common room, or…

"Forget that right now. Look!" Potter stabbed a finger at the map. Severus Snape was labeled and with him were Peter Pettigrew, Fenrir Greyback, and Gerald Goyle.

"Snape let them out?" Draco was perplexed. "But, he's been helping us."

"Looks like he switched sides again," Harry snapped. "Is anyone surprised?"

Draco was, but Potter seemed a bit too agitated for rational conversation at the moment.

"Where are they?" Malfoy was having a hard time getting his bearings on the map. He twisted his head to look at it.

"Heading for the Chamber of Secrets. They're in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."

"Why go to the Chamber of Secrets?" Ron asked.

"I don't know, but we're going to stop them. Where's Hermione?"

"We were going to ask you that," Ron said. "Look on the map."

A quick search of the library showed it to be empty, but they spotted Hermione leaving the Armor Gallery and heading back up the stairs. Draco let out a quick breath of relief to see no other names near her.

"Ron, Malfoy, come with me. We're going after Snape. Ginny, Luna, Neville, stay here and wait for Hermione. Tell her where we went."

"What?" Ginny cried. "No! We are coming with you!"

"GINNY, WILL YOU STOP ARGUING, FOR ONCE?" Harry bellowed. She folded her arms and glared at him. Draco figured Potter should save his breath—and his hair—and just hex the little monster.

"We'll wait for Hermione," Ginny gritted. "And then we're coming after you."

"Fine," Harry spat. "Let's go!"

Harry ran down the stairs. Weasley and Malfoy followed. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was on the other side of the castle, so they would be taking the opposite steps from Hermoine. Draco hoped she made it back to McGonagall's office without incident. Then he remembered the coin around his neck.

It was difficult to use while jogging. He clenched his fist around it and sent a thought to Hermione.

You okay?

Fine. I have the scabbard. It's a Horcrux, I think.

Draco sucked in a breath. Ron looked at him curiously, but Potter continued to pelt at a breakneck speed down the hall. Gryffindors—always in a hurry to rush to their deaths. The sooner they were in danger, the happier they were.

Snape let the Death Eaters out. We're going to find them.

What? Where are they? I'm coming with you!

Draco blinked at the similarity to Ginny Weasley's words. Granger would never turn into a shrieking shrew like the redheaded stick girl, would she? He shook off the thought with a grin. He could just shut her up by kissing her, if that ever happened.

No. You should probably destroy that scabbard. Ginny, Luna, and Longbottom are back in McGonagall's office. They can help.

There was a short pause, during which Harry led them down the stairs in a suicidal Gryffindor fashion. Draco paused on a landing to read her response.

Be careful.

Draco grinned smugly. No nagging at all. She really was Little Miss Perfect.

46  Bellatrix Lestrange

When Hermione returned to McGonagall's office, Ginny practically leaped down her throat.

"We have to hurry!" Ginny cried and tugged on her arm. "Harry and—"

"I know where they went," Hermione said calmly and resisted being dragged. "We have something to do before we can follow them."

Ginny gaped at her in confusion. "But… it's Snape!"

"Draco won't let Harry charge headlong into battle. Besides, we still don't know whose side Snape is on."

"We know whose side Greyback is on!" Ginny cried, close to tears. "Frankly, your confidence in Malfoy is appalling—"

Hermione spied the Marauders' Map on the desk and hurried over to look at it. A quick glance showed Harry, Draco, and Ron nearing Moaning Myrtle's lavatory. Hermione scanned away from them to check out the route to the room where they had destroyed the other Horcruxes. They would have to use the room again because it had already been purified.

"Oh no," Hermione murmured. Bellatrix Lestrange was on the stairs heading for the third floor. The other three crowded around the map. Neville paled.

"It looks like she's alone," Hermione said.

"Good," replied Ginny flatly.

Moaning Myrtle was not moaning at the moment. A large hole gaped where one of the sinks used to be. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, no doubt. At least it wasn't part of a toilet, Draco thought, trying to dredge up something positive about the idea. What had Slytherin been thinking?

"My, my!" Murtle cried when she spotted them. "My toilet is such a busy place, today! So many comings and goings."

"Who has been coming and going, Myrtle?" Draco asked. She zipped across the room in a flash of white and sidled up to Draco, partly disappearing into his arm.

"Oh, it's you!" she crooned. "I haven't seen you since your bath last night."

Draco flushed a bit. Myrtle never seemed to miss one of Draco's baths when he was at Hogwarts.

"Did you recognize them, Myrtle?" he asked, hoping to forestall any commentary regarding his bathing habits.

"Oh yes. Nasty Mr. Filch has been in and out, in and out all day. He's very rude! And that wicked professor who saved your life the dayhe," she jerked an accusing finger at Harry, "tried to kill you!" She half-sobbed and then looked coyly at Draco. "Although I was sort of hoping if you died that you would stay here with me."

She giggled and Draco reflected that spending a lifetime in a toilet with Myrtle or being slow roasted over the coals of hell would be quite the toss up.

"Filch?" Potter snapped. "What was he doing down here?"

Myrtle ignored him. Apparently, she was still upset with Harry for nearly killing Malfoy during the Sectumsempra incident.

"Was anyone with him?" Draco asked.

"That nasty teacher. Filch went down this morning alone and came back with that fellow."

"Snape," Draco supplied.

"That's the one." Myrtle giggled. "Snape went out and came back with the other four."

"Dolohov, Goyle, Greyback, and Wormtail."

"If you say so. I didn't recognize any of them."

"I wonder where Filch went," Ron said.

"Fenrir probably ate him," Draco replied. Harry grimaced.

"I wouldn't even wish that on Filch. Do you think he was Imperiused?"

"Who cares?" Draco said. "Shouldn't we be getting after them?" He began to think Potter and Weasley were stalling. Harry sighed deeply.

"He's right. Let's go."

Ron shuddered. "I hate it down there."

Harry walked to the opening and stared into the huge pipe.

"I wonder how they opened it. Who speaks Parseltongue besides me and Voldemort?" It was a chilling question to which they had no answer.

"See you down below," Harry said and stepped into the pipe.

"You've got to be kidding," Draco said as Harry disappeared into the distinctly slimy entrance. Ron gave him a commiserating look and followed Potter after a jaunty salute. Draco sighed deeply and stepped in after Weasley vanished. It was one of the most unpleasant experiences of Draco's life—sliding along a wet, slime-covered pipe at increasing speed until he was shot out the end to land atop Ron Weasley. Malfoy rolled away immediately and got to his feet. He was coated in slippery grime. It was a hundred times worse than the mud he'd been covered in earlier.

Draco instantly cast a Scourgify on himself. He hated doing it because it stung quite nastily, but it was better than being filthy.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, must you always look like you stepped out of a magazine?" Potter snapped as Draco smoothed down his clean hair with a contented sigh. He scowled at Potter, whose hair was finally lying flat, now that it was plastered with goo. Draco vindictively cracked a cleaning spell at him.

"Ow!" Potter cried and Malfoy smiled wickedly. At least The Chosen One was clean, even if he didn't appreciate it. Draco looked speculatively at Ron, who backed away so quickly he tripped over a rock and sat down hard.

"I'd rather be dirty!" he yelled.

Malfoy laughed and Potter said, "Don't say it, Malfoy. Let's just go." Then he paused and shook out the cloth in his hand. He handed it to Draco. "Put this on."

"Your invisibility cloak? Why me?"

"We can't all wear it. We're too tall for even two of us to fit. Anyone waiting for us will expect Ron and I. But you? Let's keep that a secret as long as possible."

It seemed to take forever to navigate the dark tunnel. A door set with entwined serpents stood open before them and a strange, greenish glow guided them onward. Harry's steps had slowed until he seemed to be forcing himself forward.

"This is where you fought the basilisk, eh?" Draco murmured. Potter nodded. Malfoy conceded that Potter was braver than he'd thought. This place was creepy. For a twelve-year old boy, it had to have been absolutely terrifying, especially knowing a deadly serpentine monster waited at the end of it.

They entered the chamber and Harry raised his wand. He cast a Lumosbright enough to illuminate anything hiding in the room.

"Wouldn't it have been better to have sneaked in?" Ron squeaked.

"They knew we were here," Harry said flatly. The light revealed three people: Peter Pettigrew, Fenrir Greyback, and Severus Snape.

Bellatrix Lestrange stood before the shattered scabbard display. Her fists were clenched.

"Looking for this?" Hermione called sweetly. Bellatrix spun and Hermione dangled the scabbard from her left hand temptingly.

"Accioscabbard!" Bella yelled without preamble. The leather case snapped out of Hermione's hand, but the leather strap had been tightly wrapped around her wrist. The scabbard hovered for a moment, straining to reach Bellatrix.

Hermione tsked. "Oh no, it's not going to be that easy," she commented and shot a Full Body Bind at Lestrange, who stepped lightly aside. Ginny and Luna joined the fray and several bolts of light headed for Bellatrix. A large shield jerked from the wall to float before Bella and the spells bounced off harmlessly. HermioneTransfigured the shield into a small hand mirror. Bellatrix threw it down and it shattered on the floor.

"Seven years bad luck, Bella!" Hermione called.

"The Dark Lord will walk on your dead carcasses!" Bellatrix screamed and sent a green spell racing for Ginny, who avoided it by throwing herself to the floor. Hermione retaliated, but Bellatrix ran behind a large display of horse armor. The spell clipped her black hair as she fled. Luna cowered behind a halberd display and shot random spells at Bellatrix. Neville had disappeared.

"Harry will stop your precious Dark Lord!" Ginny cried angrily as she climbed to her feet. Bellatrix laughed and poked her head out to send a spell at Hermione, who reflected it back. It recoiled off the horse armor with an empty clang.

"Harry Potter?" Bellatrix spat. "That foolish child? His days are numbered. He'll not live to see his next birthday."

The comment seemed to enrage Ginny, who shot spell after spell toward Bellatrix in a flurry. The room rang with the reverberations of the armor. Luna joined her, happily sending who-knew-what spells winging at Bella. Hermione hoped none of them bounced off and hit her, but she took advantage of Lestrange being momentarily pinned down to hurry forward, hoping to get behind Bellatrix. Lestrange spotted her at the last moment and shot a wild spell toward Hermione, who held up the scabbard in reflex. The green spell enveloped the sheath and Hermione felt a stinging backlash. Bella cried out in alarm. To the relief of both of them, the Crucio had no effect on the Horcrux.

"Don't damage the Dark Lord's little toy, Bella!" Hermoine taunted and aimed a hex that Bellatrix deflected—barely. Damn, she was fast. Ginny and Luna had not relented with their barrage of spells and Bellatrix had a cornered look on her face. Hermione was afraid Lestrange was about to do something crazy and braced herself for anything—anything, that is, except for the blue light that pelted Bellatrix from behind and then enveloped her in a huge, clear bubble.

Enraged, the black-haired woman cast a spell, which bounced around inside the bubble and finally hit her on the posterior. She screamed in rage—or pain—but none of them could hear her.

"Lucky she didn't cast Avada Kedavra," Neville commented. Hermione grinned at him in surprise. He had obviously run down the hall to the Trophy Room and entered by the connecting door.

"Brilliant! It's soundproof, too!" Ginny said and giggled.

"I've never seen a spell like that," Hermione commented. "Where did you learn it, Neville?"

"Fred and George," Ginny answered for him. Bellatrix had tentatively tried other spells with the same result. She was now jumping up and down furiously and banging her wand and fists against the bubble walls. "She might want to stop that. She'll run out of air faster if she keeps that up."

Hermione gasped. "You mean it's airtight, also?"

"Yeah. She'll die if we don't let her out," Ginny said mildly. Neville's face hardened and Hermione remembered Bellatrix was one that had tortured his parents into insanity. She couldn't really blame him if he wanted to leave Bella in there. Neville sighed.

"We'd better let her out," he said.

"How do we do that without her killing us?" Ginny demanded indignantly.

"We could levitate it up to the ceiling and then release it," Luna suggested. They all look at the ceiling some six meters above.

"That might kill her," Hermione commented.

"What a pity," Ginny said dryly. Hermione sighed. Time was ticking away and they still had to destroy the Horcrux. They quickly made a plan and Luna levitated Bellatrix's bubble into the air. The Death Eater held the sides of the sphere in alarm and screamed at them soundlessly. It was beautifully coordinated, Hermione had to admit. Neville released the spell, Ginny cast Petrificus Totalus the instant Bellatrix began to fall, and Hermone gently lowered the frozen Death Eater to the ground. Her eyes glared at them in purest rage when Hermione plucked the wand from Bella's petrified hand.

"Better luck next time," Luna said brightly.

"There won't be a next time," Ginny gritted. She and Neville conjured so many ropes and tied them tightly around Bella she looked like a brown mummy. Hermione quickly cast a Patronus message to let McGonagall know what was happening, considering not a single one of them had remained in her office as ordered.

"We'd better hurry and destroy this thing," she said.

"Nice of you to join us, Potter. Weasley." Fenrir's grin was hideous.

Snape shook his head. "No backup? I see you're reckless as ever, Potter. I never expect you to learn, but sometimes you still manage to disappoint me."

"Damn, I really hate to disappoint you, don't I?" Potter said with a sneer. Snape returned the expression and his eyes flashed. Wormtail and Greyback started forward. Draco, invisible, began to sidle around behind the pillars. It worried him that Dolohov and Goyle were missing. Where had they gone? Another tunnel? Hiding behind the pillars somewhere?

"Harry Potter, eh?" Greyback snarled. "Be a nice treat to sink my teeth into your tender flesh."

"Down, Fenrir," Snape said sharply. "Plenty of time for that, later. Potter can entertain himself with some other playmates while we're gone."

Snape cast a spell and the area surrounding the Death Eaters was suddenly filled with clouds of black smoke. Draco ran forward quickly, expecting them to make a run for it—but to where? He heard coughing and followed the sound, plunging into the cloud. He wished he had his Hand of Glory—it would have been useful in this black fog. He kept a handful of the cloak over his face to filter the smoke.

Draco hurried a bit too fast and actually ran into someone.

"That you Wormtail?" Fenrir growled. "Watch where you're going, you stupid git!" Draco backed up cautiously, afraid the werewolf would recognize his scent. Thankfully, the smoke seemed to be masking it.

"What are you talking about?" Peter's voice sounded somewhat farther away.

"Will you two shut up and get inside?" Snape hissed. "Potter won't be detained for long. I'm sure the Dark Lord will want to prepare for his imminent arrival."

Draco's heart sank at the confirmation—Lord Voldemort was here. He followed the sound of footsteps as quietly as possible and heard the unmistakable grating of stone on stone. A doorway. The Death Eaters had been heading for the back wall, so the passage was likely beneath the statue of Salazar Slytherin. The black mist was already beginning to dissipate.

Ron Weasley began to yell, though Malfoy could not make out any words. He heard Potter shout, also. Draco fought his way out of the haze, coughing despite the cloth over his mouth. When he could see again, he stopped in surprise. A dozen dementors were swirling through the pillars of the room. Weasley stood behind Potter, yelling madly and waving his wand like an idiot. A silver stag burst out of Potter's wand and routed a number of dementors, who shredded like cheesecloth and tried to flee. A bolder one approached Weasley from behind. Ron wheeled in terror.

"Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!" Ron shrieked. Silver flashes spurted from the end of his wand and fizzled. Potter spun and cast another Patronus that charged the dementor, but those Harry had initially routed had nowhere to go—they reformed quickly in the shadows near the ceiling and swept downward en masse. Draco swore. There was no help for it. He shrugged the invisibility cloak back over his shoulders and raced forward. Draco's Patronussprang from his wand and scattered the dementors menacing Potter. Draco halted at Harry's side—Potter's emerald eyes were wide and frantic.

"There are too many!" Harry shouted. Weasley finally managed to cast aPatronus and the ratlike dog flew from his wand and routed a lone dementor. Others began to reform.

"Keep shredding them—don't let them regroup!" Draco cried and cast his Patronus once more. "And keep them off me!"

He steadied himself and raised his wand to cast a Binding. It would be difficult with so many. Luckily, Weasley's success seemed to have steadied him and Ron managed to keep casting. He and Potter kept the creatures from completely coalescing. Draco's voice rose to a scream. The dementors swirled in a spinning, dark cloud near the ceiling, as if trying to escape. Malfoy fought to maintain control.

At last it was finished. Draco grabbed Potter's wand to halt the nextPatronus.

"Wait," he gasped, panting. His throat was raw. The fleeing dementors solidified and gathered, but they did not try to descend. They floated menacingly—an evil cloud above their heads.

"What did you do?" Potter gasped in amazement.

"ABinding," Draco said tiredly. "It's how the Ministry—and the Dark Lord—can control them. It's damned hard with so many. Fucking Snape is a master at the Dark Arts. I'm sure it was child's play for him, damn him to hell."

Weasley suddenly laughed weakly. Potter looked at him curiously.

"NicePatronus, Malfoy."

Draco scowled. "I'd rather not discuss it."

Potter grinned at him. "A unicorn? Who would have guessed?"

"Shut it, Potter."

"I mean, the very symbol of purity and innocence. It boggles the mind."

"Are we going after Snape, or not?" Draco snapped. That, at least, forced Potter back to reality, although Weasley was still chuckling like a loon.

"Where did they go?" Harry asked.

Draco pointed. "We need to find the door."

With one last apprehensive look at the dementors hovering near the ceiling, Potter hurried toward Slytherin's statue.

"A unicorn," Draco heard Weasley whisper. Draco felt like yanking at his hair. Now he knew why Potter did it so often.

47 The Second Chamber

Hermione cast the circle as quickly as possible. She stood in the east position again and Neville took Harry's place. Luna was at the southern point and Ginny stood in for Draco in the west. Hermione suddenly missed him terribly, but she reflected that Ginny Weasley was a fine stand-in for him. They were much alike in temperament. Even now Ginny was tapping her foot with impatience. Hermione smiled, knowing what Draco would say about that observation.

She lifted her wand and began.

It seemed to take them forever to find the portal. Weasley, of all people, stumbled over it. Literally. He tripped on the hem of the cloak Draco wore and put his hands out on the wall to break his fall.

"Damn it, Weasley, can you get any clumsier?" Draco grumbled.

"The cloak is invisible, Malfoy, you bloody—" Ron began, but his words were cut off by a grating sound that drew their attention. A huge crack had appeared on Slytherin's boot. It opened wider and Harry grabbed it to throw it wider. It revealed a dark, cramped passage.

Potter took a step forward, but Draco halted him with a hand on his shoulder. Harry's green eyes flashed.

"This is my fight, Malfoy. I'll go first."

Draco rolled his eyes. "As usual, there are a number of things wrong with that observation, Potter, but I'm not trying to save you from yourself at the moment."

Harry cocked a brow at him and Draco smiled.

"I think it's only fair to send the Dark Lord's friends back to him, don't you think?"

With that, he flicked his wand and uttered a command. The churning cloud of dementors broke ranks, jetted downward, and flew into the passage with a rush of air, a burst of cold, and the whisper of fluttering cloth. Weasley jumped back with a yelp as the dark mass raced by.

Harry sighed and then grinned. "Malfoy, I hate to admit this, but sometimes I'm really glad you're pure evil."

Draco laughed.

"Glad you finally appreciate me, Potter. Let's go—the dementors won't occupy them for long."

Harry plunged into the passage in typical Gryffindor abandon and Weasley followed. Draco made certain he was fully concealed under the cloak and trailed after them.

The tunnel was only a few dozen meters long and opened into yet another chamber, this one completely circular. The three of them stopped short for a moment to observe the chaos. Several Death Eaters were shouting and casting various spells at the attacking dementors. Draco smiled in pure pleasure at the sight.

Directly in front of them, Lars cast a Patronus—a crocodile?—and shredded a dementor. Behind him, Crabbe was yelling and trying hard to cast at another. Beside him, Goyle managed another Patronus—a baboon, was that any surprise?—but it was weak and merely caused the dark creature to retreat for a moment.

Draco's eyes scanned the rest of the room. Seated on the floor next to Crabbe was Tonks—looking strange and terrified. Her hair was mouse brown. Bound as she was, she had no defense against the dementors. Draco leaped forward.

Behind her, Fenrir Greyback seemed to be casting a Binding.

In the center of the room, in what looked to be a pentagram carved into the floor, sat Voldemort on a chair Draco recognized as the one from the parlour at Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord looked bored. Next to the chair, Wormtail cowered with his hands over his head. On the other side of the chair, in a small iron cage, was Dobby. Behind Pettigrew stood Snape. The former Potions master effortlessly cast a strange, jagged purple spell at a menacing dementor and the creature vaporized. Draco wished he knew half the spells in Snape's arsenal.

Beyond Snape, Draco's father stood near the wall, casting his own web of defense. The final Death Eater present was Rodolphus Lestrange. Draco wondered where the others were. Where was Dolohov? And Narcissa?

There was no time for reflection. Draco hurried invisibly past Crabbe and Goyle and knelt next to Tonks.

"Wotcher, cousin," he breathed in her ear. With a quick spell, he severed her ropes as she gasped. "Sorry I don't have a wand to give you."

"That's all right," she murmured. "I feel better already."

Greyback spun suddenly, eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

"Malfoy!" the werewolf said. Draco backed away as silently as possible, cursing the damned werewolf's heightened senses. Greyback followed, clawed hands outstretched. As Draco sidled away from the werewolf, he caught a glimpse of Harry. What the hell was Potter doing?

Harry watched the scene for only a moment before taking a retreating step.

"We've got to get out of here—wait for Hermione and the others," Harry said quietly. "There are too many of them. They'll cut us to ribbons."

Ron did not need to be told twice. He slipped back into the passage.

"Malfoy?" Harry hissed. There was no reply. "Malfoy? Damn it—Draco?"

Harry nearly pulled his hair. Where the devil had the Slytherin gone? Harry turned to go and found himself unable to move.

"Harry Potter. Come and join our little party," Voldemort called. Harry fought the compulsion with a sinking feeling, but found his feet carrying him forward into the room. His mind screamed for him to resist, but his body refused to obey.

"I had planned to bring the festivities up to you," Voldemort continued, "But as usual, your Gryffindor impulsiveness has put a kink in my plans." Voldemort shook his head. He still lounged casually in the chair with his wand pointed at Harry. Wormtail hovered nearby, looking terrified. Harry vaguely noticed that the dementors were being brought under control.

"You've been quite a thorn in my side, Potter," Voldemort went on. Harry began to sweat with the effort of trying to raise his wand. He thought it moved fractionally.

"Wormtail, do go fetch Potter's wand before he hurts himself."

Pettigrew scampered forward and snatched the wand from Harry's hand. He felt almost physical pain from the loss.

"Now, Mr. Potter, you may kneel before me. You see, I am the new master here. I have the Ministry and shortly I will have Hogwarts."

"No," Harry managed. Voldemort scowled and sat up.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. Kneel."

Harry's legs buckled, but a part of him seemed to detach from the rest of his mind. No, it whispered. Harry swayed, but remained upright.

"Kneel!" Voldemort screamed, rising to his feet and brandishing his wand like a sword. Harry felt his knees slam into the stone floor. He shook with the effort to resist, struggling to rise. Confident once more, Voldemort settled back into the chair, although his previous casual attitude was gone.

"I am curious, Potter, how you managed to command the dementors. By all accounts, you are not the best student." His snakelike eyes flicked to Snape for a moment.

"I know how," Fenrir growled. "Draco Malfoy. He's here—I can smell him." The werewolf was stalking a path through the room.

Get out, Malfoy, Harry willed. Greyback suddenly launched himself forward and his hand clawed at thin air. There was an odd shimmer as the invisibility cloak slipped off to reveal Draco, who immediately cast a spell that sent Fenrir flying backward. When the werewolf landed several feet away, he did not rise.

Malfoy did not pause, but whirled and sent a killing spell at Voldemort, who did not bother to deflect it—Lars did it for him. The Death Eater cast a shield charm and Draco's bolt ricocheted off to blast a chunk of rock from the wall.

"Expelliarmus!"Voldemort snapped and Draco's wand was snatched from his hand to land in Voldemort's. Draco raised his chin, tossing his platinum hair defiantly.

"Lucius. I'm afraid your offspring has been very naughty."

"Indeed," Lucius commented. Harry marveled at the bored tone of his voice. Was it possible that Lucius did not even care about his own son?

"Don't you think it's time you punished him? It's a father's job, after all, to discipline their children, is it not?"

Harry felt sick. Voldemort's voice was heavy with amusement and tinged with excitement, as thought it were an entertaining game. The huge snake slithered out from under the chair, where it had apparently been coiled the entire time. It hissed.

"You are absolutely right, my lord," Lucius said. He strode forward and raised his wand. Father and son looked at each other for a long moment—so very alike, pale and haughty.

"Avada Kedavra!" Lucius snapped and a green light shot forward and slammed into Draco, who instantly collapsed and lay still.

Harry felt himself screaming in horrified denial. For a moment, he thought he'd managed to break the curse and scream aloud, but it was another's cry of pure pain that echoed in the room. Narcissa had entered by a passage at the rear of the chamber just in time to witness her husband murder their only child.

She flew forward with a shriek of rage to launch herself at Lucius. Her fists hammered into his chest, past all his efforts to deflect her. Her hair was a silver cloud as she pounded at him.

"You bastard! You BASTARD! How could you?" she sobbed. Harry's heart twisted with pain. His eyes slid to Draco's unmoving body. He never would have imagined the crushing sense of loss he felt to know he'd never hear that snide voice again, or see those flawless features twist with wry humor…

Narcissa collapsed into Lucius's arms and the elder Malfoy buried his face in her hair as he held her tightly. Harry felt such rage toward Lucius Malfoy he thought he would burst from it. He clenched his fists and concealed his surprise when his hands responded. Could he fight the Imperius Curse? He had once before…

"Oh my, that was entertaining. Thank you, Lucius. Narcissa, it's for the best. Your traitor son was consorting with Mudbloods and their whelp. Potter, you seem upset." Voldemort tsked as if sympathetic. "Was young Malfoy your friend?"

Yes, you bastard, Harry thought furiously. Yes, he was.

"I suppose I should put you out of your misery then, eh Potter? Wormtail, kill him."

Peter's head shot up in surprise and then a stricken expression crossed his face. He hesitated.

"Don't make me tell you twice, Peter."

Wormtail crept forward and then slowly knelt before Harry. His features were twisted as he reached out his silver hand. Harry felt the cold metal close around his throat. He looked into Wormtail's watery eyes steadily, pleading.

"Forgive me, Harry," Peter whispered in a shaking voice. The hand began to tighten. Pettigrew drew a shuddering breath. "Oh, God, you look so much like James." Tears filled the eyes of the man who had betrayed Harry's parents to their deaths. "Forgive me, James, forgive me." Harry found it difficult to breathe as the metal hand continued to tighten. He struggled with all his might to move and felt his hands rise with ludicrous slowness toward his neck—far too slowly. Pettigrew sobbed and the tears flowed down his cheeks. "James. James, I loved you like a brother. I'm so sorry." Black spots appeared before Harry's eyes and he fought desperately for breath, but the air was not forthcoming. His oxygen-starved brain howled for him to do something—he couldn't let it end like this!

"I'm so sorry," Wormtail cried. The hand trembled on Harry's neck and then suddenly released.

Cool, sweet, welcome air flooded Harry's lungs and he drew in a gasping breath. He blinked in astonishment and would have fallen if the compulsion had not kept him upright. Wormtail climbed to his feet and stepped away.

"I…I can't, my lord," Peter said in a whining, begging voice. "Potter saved my life—he kept Sirius and Remus from killing me. I owe him a life debt."

"Pity," Voldemort said in a voice like a crypt. He flicked his wand. Wormtail's hand suddenly sprang up and closed around his own throat. Peter shrieked in surprised horror until the sound was choked off. Peter's other hand tugged convulsively at the metal appendage, trying to tear it away, but it continued to squeeze mercilessly. The Animagus tried to transform in a panic. His features melted and became even more ratlike. Harry watched in utter horror, panting through his bruised throat. The partial change made no difference. Pettigrew flopped to the ground, thrashing violently, half-man and half-rat. His back arched hideously and his heels drummed on the ground—and then he lay still.

Voldemort chuckled in the silence. Even the Death Eaters seemed stunned by the pitiless killing.

"Poor Wormtail. He never knew the hand was a failsafe device. I always suspected he would turn on me, in the end." Voldemort suddenly pounded a fist on the carved arm of the chair. "I am surrounded by traitors! Who will be next? You, Lars?" The brutal-faced Death Eater shook his head in terror and backed away.

"No, my lord!"

"Crabbe? Dolohov?" He turned his glare on the man that had escorted Narcissa Malfoy into the room. Antonin Dolohov held up his hands in fear.

"I am loyal to the death, my lord!"

Voldemort swung around to stare at Snape.

"Severus?"

Snape met his gaze coldly and said nothing. The lack of response seemed to calm Voldemort, who relaxed a bit and chuckled. "No… not you. Not the one who rid me of that pestilential Dumbledore." He sat back and steepled his fingers. The twisted wand jutted from the center of his hands like a bleached bone. "Perhaps it is time you rid me of Potter, as well."

Time to move, Harry, said the detached voice in Harry's mind. Move now.

Hermione raced for Myrtle's bathroom with the others. She was shocked to run into Susan Bones on the way.

"Where are you going?" Susan asked.

"Should you be… out of the hospital ward?" Hermione asked uncertainly. Susan glared at her.

"Probably not, since I'm such a dangerous criminal. I'm frankly surprised I wasn't confined to a cell with the Death Eaters."

"They've escaped," Neville said quietly. Susan's eyes flashed.

"Escaped! That explains why Pomfrey hoofed it out of there in a flutter. Damn it! They should have let me kill them all!"

"You might still have your chance," Ginny said dryly. "They've fled with Snape into the Chamber of Secrets. We're going after them."

A smiled curved Susan's lips and she raised her wand.

"Why are we standing here?"

Hermione brushed past her and they hurried to the entrance of the Chamber. Myrtle floated near the hole. She glared at them.

"No visitors for months and then everyone shows up in one day," she huffed. "I suppose you're going down, too?"

Hermione didn't bother to respond; she merely hurried to the entrance and stepped inside. The ride was more horrible than even Ron had described. She spat slime from her mouth after landing with a hard thump at the bottom.

"Ew, that's so disgusting!" she cried, shaking her hand to dislodge a clinging bit of something horrid.

"Hermione!" She looked up to see Ron running toward her. "We've got to hurry! They've got Harry! Voldemort's here!"

The others emerged from the pipe one by one and clustered around Ron, who turned and raced back the way he'd come. They all followed. They entered a huge chamber with large pillars that Hermione recognized from Harry's descriptions. She paused for a moment, astonished that Salazar Slytherin had managed to construct something so massive in total secrecy. Ron hadn't slowed, so she hurried to catch up with him.

Hermione suddenly screamed as a massive wave of agony bored into her—the source was the Galleon around her neck. She fell to the ground and barely caught herself with her hands. The pain disappeared as suddenly as it had come.

Ron was on his knees next to her. She gripped his arms in panic.

"It's Draco—something terrible has happened!" She threw herself to her feet and fled toward the doorway that gaped at the end of the room.

48 Avada Kedavra

Draco was aware of pain and nothing more. He'd never felt such excruciating agony in his life. He tried not to breathe because the very air hurt his lungs. Movement was out of the question. He tried to force his mind past the torment and find a rational thought. Was he dead and finally paying the ultimate price for his actions? Burning in hell? It certainly felt like it.

That lovely idea pulled him slightly back to reality. What had happened? It came back to him with a crushing weight that nearly drowned the physical pain. This was an anguish that was purely emotional. Lucius had killed him! Draco could hardly wrap his tortured mind around the idea. He knew without question that his father loved him—would die for him. That knowledge brought him even closer to coherent thought. He became aware of an annoying buzzing that slowly sorted itself into words—voices.

Voldemort? Unless Potter had finally sent the Dark Lord to a much-overdue demise and he now resided in hell with Draco… then he wasn't dead. Draco focused on the voice. Voldemort was ranting at Wormtail. The pain began to recede, thankfully. Draco slit his eyes open, but the light burned into his skull with a new brand of torment and he quickly gave up that idea. He would lie here for a moment and think, he decided.

Why hadn't the Avada Kedavra killed him?

That thought occupied him completely and the pain faded even more. He sent his mind back to everything he knew about Unforgivable Curses. His father… What had his father said? They had talked about it once, long ago…

"The Killing Curse is only as effective as the will of the caster," Lucius said.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked. He had spent the day reading up on Unforgivable Curses in the library, mainly because Theo Nott had irritated Draco by nearly knocking him off his broom during an impromptu Quidditch game. Draco felt it prudent to learn the Cruciatus Curse and prevent that ever happening again. When Lucius arrived home, Draco had asked if he had ever used the Killing Curse. His father bypassed the question with a thoughtful look. Lucius sat heavily in his favorite chair and stared into the fire. He began to reminisce.

"When I was a boy, my parents once went on holiday without me. They sent me to my uncle's farm in Scotland for the summer. My uncle—the man was a right bastard. I was quite surprised when he gave me a puppy on the day I arrived. I was horrified at first—what did I want with a pet? But the bloody little thing followed me around day after day. It had these floppy, uneven ears…"

Lucius grimaced. Draco was amazed at the story. He could not picture his father with any sort of pet, not even as a child.

"I grew to love that damned dog, although I knew my parents would never let me keep it at home. I assumed it would stay at the farm where I could visit it from time to time." He laughed harshly. "I should have known better. On the day I was to leave, my uncle informed me that they had no intention of keeping the dog and it would starve to death unless I killed it. My father concurred. It was a test, you see."

Lucius's face was impassive, but his voice had an unusual timbre.

"So, I cast Avada Kedavra on my dog."

Draco waited, sensing that wasn't the end of the story.

"The thing is… it didn't die." Lucius shook his head. "My uncle simply thought I cast the spell wrong. He corrected my 'mistake' himself, of course. But I've thought about it often since then. I know I cast it correctly. I simply did not want to kill the dog, so the spell was ineffective. You see, Draco, you have to want to kill. You have to want it, or it won't work."

It won't work.

Lucius had known. God, Draco hoped his father had known the curse wouldn't kill him. If not—if Draco was that delusional about his own family, he would have to change his name and move in with Potter. Oh God. Potter. Draco wondered if Harry was still alive and forced his eyes again.

Wormtail was whimpering and… what? Choking Harry to death? Draco shut his eyes again and swiftly pondered his options. He needed to get his wand, get up, and save Potter. In that order. He only wished he could move. Draco tried to stretch his fingers and had to grit his teeth when the tiny motion sent pins and needles of pain through his hand. The Avada Kedavra hadn't killed him, but it certainly hadn't done him any good, either.

Accio wand, he thought. Nothing happened. He tried to shove aside his awareness of the pain and concentrate. He'd done this hundreds of times. He could practically do it in his sleep. Come on!

Wormtail released Harry suddenly and took a step back, nearly standing on Draco when he refused to kill Potter. Surprise at the turn of events made Draco pause—perhaps Wormtail would be useful and turn on the Dark Lord? Or at least take out Fenrir or Lars? That vague hope died when Wormtail was quickly killed by his own hand and hit the floor near Draco's feet. Draco sighed and focused once more on retrieving his wand—the Dark Lord would not be distracted forever. Voldemort began ranting.

Draco's efforts were curtailed by Voldemort seating himself in the chair and snatching up the two wands he'd thrown carelessly on the seat: Harry's and Draco's. The Dark Lord dangled one before Harry for a moment.

"Trying for this, Potter? Looks like you don't quite have it in you to perform wandless magic, eh? Must be the Muggle-born taint."

Draco watched through nearly-closed eyes as Voldemort tucked the wands into his robe. He shut his eyes with a silent groan. Now what?

A muted commotion made Draco slit his eyes open again. Voldemort made a quick gesture and command. Most of the Death Eaters hurried for the passage that led back to the first chamber. The reinforcements must have arrived. Snape remained in the room, as did Draco's parents.

"Apparently your protectors have arrived, Potter. A bit too late." He snapped another directive and Draco felt more than saw the dementors fly after the Death Eaters. He heard Fenrir climb to his feet a distance away.

"Where is the Malfoy brat?" the werewolf snarled. "I'll kill him!"

"Lucius took care of that for you. Go join the others," Voldemort ordered.

Greyback growled, but thankfully came no closer. It was possible he could see through Draco's ruse. Fenrir chuckled ruefully. "What a bloody waste. I'll have to settle for Potter's little friends, then. I think I'll start with that Mudblood girl…"

Draco tried not to let the thought twist his insides.

"Where's the Metamorphmagus?"

Draco smiled inwardly. The idiots had forgotten to watch Tonks. She must have transformed into a Death Eater and ran out with the others. Hopefully, she could figure out how to get the Order here posthaste.

"Useless fools!" Voldemort bellowed. "Just go kill them!"

Hermione was nearly to the open passage when the sound of footsteps warned her. She threw herself behind the nearest pillar just in time to avoid a blast from a Death Eater wand. Voldemort's minions had barely poured into the room when a massive swarm of dementors joined them. Hermione cast her Patronus as one flung itself toward her.

"More stupid kids!" the brutal-faced Death Eater yelled. "They're supposed to stop us? Where's the Order?" He laughed loudly. "Oh yes, trying to save the Ministry."

A Death Eater ran toward Hermione and she raised her wand again, but it shockingly metamorphosed into Tonks. Hermione jerked her wand aside just in time.

"Tonks! Where did you come from?"

Tonks threw herself behind the pillar with Hermione and shot a spell at another henchman. The Death Eaters were racing to take up positions around the opposite pillars and the dementors dove and spun like evil birds. Susan Bones shredded one with a spell that looked like lightning and then turned the same spell on a Death Eater. They avoided it by leaping to the ground and rolling.

"I pretended to be Fenrir—they traded me for Percy as planned. I was to lead the order to Voldemort's headquarters, but when I got here the real Fenrir was free… as you must know."

The mention of the werewolf was timely. Greyback emerged from the tunnel. Tonks and Hermione ducked out of sight.

Tonks looked at her seriously. "Draco freed me… Harry's still in there, under an Imperius Curse. Hermione, Lucius Malfoy killed Draco."

She looked at Tonks uncomprehendingly. Draco could not be dead. It was impossible. She wouldn't allow it. She clutched the coin on her chest instinctively and forced down a rush of fear.

"Who else is in there?" she asked hoarsely.

"Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Snape. And Voldemort."

Fenrir had moved into the center of the room, dodging spells from Luna and Susan Bones. Hermione stood up.

"I've got to help Harry. You try to find out where the Order is and get them here as quickly as possible."

Hermione did not wait for a response, but dashed to the passage unhindered. When she reached it, something snagged on the edge of the open door. She looked down in surprise to find Bellatrix Lestrange's wand jutting from her back pocket. Bloody hell, she needed to give that to Tonks.

Draco cast his mind out desperately for a solution. Wormtail. His body lay nearby—Voldemort had not taken his wand, had he? Draco flexed his hand slightly, reaching… Before he could cast an Accio, he felt something heavy touch his leg. It slid up his thigh and over his crotch—oh hell, the snake! Its tongue flicked Draco's face and then it hissed loudly. Draco's shirt was suddenly snatched in a claw-like hand and the snake's weight fell away as Draco was hoisted. Wracking pain jolted through his body at the sharp movement. Draco fought to remain conscious as blackness clutched at the edges of his mind.

"The boy lives!" Voldemort snarled. Draco felt himself being dragged across the room. "What is the meaning of this, Lucius?" He opened his eyes to see Voldemort's horrible eyes glaring at his father. The snake quickly curled around Draco's parents—enfolding them in a deadly embrace. Lucius met the Dark Lord's gaze steadily.

"He's my son. I love him."

The words seemed to incense Voldemort. He shook Draco like a rag doll.

"I'll deal with you later, Lucius," he hissed. "Draco. Your father did you no favor by sparing you. Now he can watch you die in torment."

Draco managed to get his feet under him and contrived to bear his own weight, though he trembled with the effort. The Dark Lord's grip on his shirt did not slacken.

"Severus. Bring me the potion—the one I planned to use on Avery."

Snape approached and pulled a small vial of purplish liquid from his robes. Draco's eyes met his for a moment, but Snape's black gaze was impassive. Voldemort's other hand reached up to grab Draco's chin and force his eyes back to meet the reddish slits that burned into Draco's mind.

"My lord Voldemort," Lucius whispered, struggling against the coils that held him. "Please…"

"Silence, Lucius, or Narcissa will go first."

Draco's mother sobbed and maintained a ceaseless pleading that Voldemort completely ignored.

"Why did you betray me, boy?" he snarled. "Before you die, tell me why."

Draco's lips curved. If he were to die, at least he would die a Malfoy.

"Because you are mad as a fucking hatter, of course."

Voldemort's wand pressed hard beneath Draco's chin and his mouth cracked open in a hideous caricature of a smile.

"I could crack you open like an egg and no one would stop me," he murmured. "Oh, your parents would try, no doubt, but they are tied up at the moment and Lucius would be wise not to cross me again. You betrayed me to join Potter and his ilk. Do you think any of your new friends will save you? Do you think they would even try?"

Draco ignored him. Accio wand, he thought. Voldemort's robe twitched and Draco felt the hardness of wood against his hand—but it was hampered by the robe and remained in the Dark Lord's pocket. Damn the depth of the compartment—he would have to coax the thing upward and outward. He did not have the chance. Draco felt another spike of pain as he was yanked from his feet and hauled, stumbling, before Potter. Draco caught his balance once more and his eyes met Harry's. The rage burning in those green orbs made Draco's breath catch in his throat. Voldemort was a fool not to kill Harry immediately—if Potter freed himself from the Imperius Curse, he was going to erupt like a Gryffindor volcano.

"Do you think Potter and his chums will even notice when you're gone? They seem to value sacrifice—do you think any of them would die for you, Draco? Well, Potter? The Gryffindor hero? Will you take his place? Will you die for Draco Malfoy?"

Harry's mouth opened and Draco had little doubt what his response would be, but a clear voice suddenly rang in the room.

"No. But I will."

Draco's eyes left Harry and reluctantly moved to the passage entrance. Hermione Granger stood like an avenging angel; her wand was steady and her face set in defiance. Draco had never seen such a beautiful sight in his life. At the same instant, he was horrified that she was here.

"Ah, the Mudblood prodigy. Throw your wand down, girl. Unless you want Malfoy to suffer before he dies." Draco could sense glee emanating from Voldemort. He was excited at the prospect of torturing another of Harry's friends.

Just kill him, Hermione, Draco willed. Forget me, and kill the bastard.

Hermione threw her wand. It hit the floor and skid. Voldemort snarled.

"Clever girl, but we don't want to tempt Potter unduly, do we?" The Dark Lord Accioed her wand from where it had landed near Harry. "Come here."

Hermione's wand joined the others in Voldemort's possession and she walked forward calmly. The Dark Lord released Draco's shirt, only to reach up and snatch a fistful of hair at the base of Draco's neck and twist him around to face Hermione.Her huge brown eyes met Draco's solemnly. She tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage it.

"Tell me, Mudblood. Why are you willing to die for Malfoy?" Voldemort asked curiously. "By all accounts, he hates your kind."

"I love him," she said simply. Draco shut his eyes against the surge of emotion that rushed over him. How could she? Voldemort snarled a laugh.

"That seems to be a common malady today. Fatal, in this case. Severus, give her the potion."

Hermione's glance shifted to Snape, who handed her the purple vial. She took it and held it up questioningly.

"Doleovenen," Snape commented.

"A particularly nasty poison. It takes quite a long time to kill its victim. Extraordinarily painful, as well. Are you certain you won't allow Malfoy to take it? You can still save yourself. I'm sure you don't want to die."

For reply, Hermione uncorked the vial and tossed the cork aside. She held the potion in her right hand and prepared to drink.

"May I say goodbye, first?" she asked. Without waiting for a response, she stepped forward and pressed her lips tenderly against Draco's. At the same instant, he felt her left hand touch his wrist. Something hard slid beneath his sleeve—good God, it was a wand! He kissed her hard, begging her without words to escape. His mind was reeling—why hadn't she kept the wand for herself? Used it?

"It's done," she whispered when the kiss ended and her actions were suddenly clear. The Horcrux. It was gone, but she couldn't cast a Killing Curse on Voldemort—it simply wasn't in her. But she knew Draco could.

"I love you," he murmured. The surprise and warmth in her eyes dulled some of Draco's pain, but Voldemort's next words brought it crashing back.

"Drink up, girl."

Draco reached for the wand in his sleeve as Hermione stepped back and lifted the vial in a salute. She tipped the contents into her mouth. Her eyes were on Voldemort, holding his attention. Draco tugged the wand out. He willed Hermione to spit out the poison, but Voldemort suddenly touched the wand to her cheek and whispered a command.

"Swallow." Hermione, caught by the unspoken Imperius Curse, obeyed just as Draco touched the wand to Voldemort's chest and whispered, "Avada Kedavra."

The Dark Lord screamed.

49 Snape's Revelation

Draco felt a sinking sensation. When hit with a Killing Curse, one did not scream, one fell down and bloody died! Except when the caster was one's own father and he didn't really want to kill you, but regardless, Voldemort did not cooperate. He staggered backward and his scream turned into a macabre laugh. Draco tried again, remembering to want it—God, did he want the hellish bastard to die!—but this time Voldemort deflected the bolt. The Dark Lord flung a hex at Draco, who dove aside—away from Hermione. He saw her run to Harry out of the corner of his eye.

"Snape!" Draco yelled. "What the hell is wrong with you? They've been destroyed! Do you understand? We got them all!"

Draco scored another hit on Voldemort, who reeled, but did not fall. The Dark Lord snarled at Draco.

"Idiot! Did you think I would risk losing this body? The one it took mefifteen years to gain?" The Dark Lord laughed again. "There are means of protection of which Dumbledore knew nothing!"

Draco dove behind the chair to avoid another green blast, which took a large chunk out of the furnishing. He felt momentary chagrin—Lucius was going to be furious. Snape still stood nearby with an amused smile, not moving. Draco gripped the wand tighter and registered a moment of surprise when he recognized it. How had Hermione gotten Bellatrix's wand?

"Snape! Damn you, do something!" he demanded, casting a Shield Charmjust in time to deflect another blast.

"Nagini! Kill the Malfoys!" Voldemort countered before he seemed to recall the snake wasn't human and quickly hissed in Parseltongue. Draco shot a quick bolt at the snake—a move Voldemort anticipated. Draco expected the attack and leaped behind Dobby's cage. The house-elf howled in terror and pressed himself flat against the floor of the cage when it clanged loudly from the blast. Draco glanced over to see the snake's scales beginning to tighten around his parents.

"Bastard!" Draco snarled and leaped out to hit Voldemort again, but the spells were having no effect—how the hell was he managing it?

"Expelliarmus!" Voldemort shrieked and Draco felt Bellatrix's wand go flying. Bloody hell! Now he was completely defenseless. In frustration, Draco did the last thing the Dark Lord would expect—he charged him. Voldemort crashed to the floor with Draco atop him. Malfoy made sure to dig a knee hard into Voldemort's midsection when he landed. His left hand grabbed the Dark Lord's wrist while his right fumbled with the robes.

"Acciowands!" Draco hissed. This time it worked. All three wands slid from Voldemort's enfolding robes and into Draco's hand. Voldemort hurled Draco away from him with superhuman strength. Draco skid across the floor and cast a Shield Charm to deflect the inevitable hex that flew at him with intent to kill. The spell bounced off harmlessly, deflected by the odd triple-shield effect created by Draco using all three wands at once. Malfoy blinked in bemusement, never having seen anything quite like it.

Voldemort climbed to his feet, no longer amused. His red eyes fairly glowed with rage.

"Severus, kill this upstart immediately!" he snarled. "Kill them all!"

"No, I don't think I will," Snape said quietly and leveled a bizarre black spell at Voldemort that knocked him back several meters to slam into the stone wall. If Draco had thought Voldemort enraged before, it was nothing compared to the expression that now flooded his snakelike features. He seemed too livid even for words to find the last Death Eater in the room turning against him. Voldemort shot spell after spell at Snape, who either dodged them or blocked them with apparent ease.

Draco took advantage of the respite to race over to his parents. He spared a quick glance at Harry and Hermione as he passed. Granger looked pale and somewhat shaken.

"Granger, catch!" he yelled. She snatched both wands out of the air when Draco tossed them. Draco stopped in surprise when he neared the snake. His father held the reptilian head in both hands to fend off the menacing fangs, but that was not what arrested Draco's attention. Rather, it was the bloody slashes suddenly appearing on the snake's body. Draco puzzled for a moment over the source—Narcissa seemed to be unconscious, or worse. Then Draco heard someone yell, "Sectumsempra!"

"Weasel? Is that you?"

"Yes," Ron yelled from somewhere beneath Potter's invisibility cloak. "Harry told me to help your parents."

Draco wondered when Potter had managed that, but he did not pause to consider it as he cast several spells while keeping half an eye on the battle raging between Snape and Voldemort. The slashing spells worked on the snake, but not quickly enough. Draco could see his father's grip weakening under the crushing grip of the coils.

A flash of red and orange obscured Draco's vision and he blinked at the phoenix that suddenly hovered in front of him. In its claws, it held the battered Sorting Hat. The hilt of Gryffindor's sword jutted from the hat. Draco snatched the sword without thinking and raced forward.

"I'm really starting to like that bird," he murmured and swung the blade in a lethal arc, narrowly missing his father's hands as he lopped Nagini's head from the still-deadly body. Lucius flung the head away and collapsed.

"Weasley! Help me get the coils off—they're still tightening!"

Draco threw the sword down and used his wand to pry the scaled menace from his parents. Parts of Weasley appeared as he tugged at the snake with hands and magic. Finally, Draco's parents were free from the twitching coils.

"Mother—is she—?"

Lucius cradled Narcissa tenderly and touched her neck. His grey eyes met Draco's.

"She lives."

Draco's relief was tangible. He gripped his father's shoulder.

"Get her out of here," he said.

"Not without you," Lucius replied and looked at the strange battle. Snape and Voldemort seemed to be at a stalemate. Snape's spells—Dark magic Draco had never seen before—had little effect on the Dark Lord. Likewise, Snape deflected Voldemort's hexes with a frightening ease.

"No. I have to see this through," Draco said. And he wouldn't leave Hermione. "He'll kill Mother if he can, to hurt both of us. You must get her to safety." Lucius sighed and picked up his wife's limp body.

"Be careful," Lucius said. "And for pity's sake, don't do anything… Gryffindor."

Draco grinned, knowing he couldn't guarantee that. He turned; smile fading as he saw Hermione sprawled next to Potter. Her head rested on Harry's shoulder. He hurried over and knelt beside her, feeling a jolt of fear at the look of pain in her brown eyes. She tried to mask it with a smile that looked more like a grimace of torment.

"I can't believe you drank that," he admonished and took her hand.

"I can't believe you love me," she replied. Draco flushed and smiled ruefully. His eyes slid to Potter's. The green orbs were tinged with amusement for the briefest instant.

"We don't have time to discuss that," Draco said. "Did you free Potter from the Imperius?"

"No need—he did it himself."

"You shook off the Imperius and then sat here? Thanks for the help, Potter," Draco snapped.

"I didn't want him to know I was free—I didn't expect Snape to step in. How is Voldemort blocking the spells?"

"I don't know. He said something about protection. He must have an amulet, or something."

"That's one hell of an amulet."

"For someone that split his own soul into several pieces and tucked them into various objects, I don't think an amulet of protection is much of a challenge."

"All right, so how do we kill him?"

"Perhaps with the three of us attacking, we can overload the amulet."

"What do you mean three?" Weasley asked.

"Don't spoil the joy of not seeing you by speaking," Draco mentioned and added, "You stay with Hermione—keep her under the cloak so Voldemort doesn't try to use her against us again." Even though she's already dying, he thought with a spasm of pain. "We've got to get the antidote from Snape."

"If there is an antidote," she said gravely.

"Don't say that!" Draco said harshly. He planted a desperate kiss on her lips—God, they were so cold—and handed her gently to Weasley, whose face had briefly appeared from the folds of the cloak.

"Ready, Potter?"

"Yeah," Harry said and got to his feet. The two of them stood together and lifted their wands.

Harry was glad to have his wand in hand once more. He was also glad to have Malfoy beside him, though he would never have admitted that fact. They strode forward and cast simultaneously. Voldemort shrieked at the triple onslaught—Snape had cast a jagged, purple-black hex at the same moment. The Dark Lord actually staggered.

A pleading tone entered Voldemort's voice. "Severus, why? You were always my most loyal servant!" His words were belied by the vicious hex he sent spinning toward Snape, who dispelled it with a flick of his wrist.

"Loyal servant?" Snape growled. "To you? I haven't been loyal to you for the past eighteen years! My sole reason for living has been to see you permanently destroyed!"

Voldemort snarled and shot several spells in succession. He completely ignored Harry and Draco's concerted attack, which seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

"But you killed Dumbledore!"

"Do you want to know why, you half-blood freak?" Snape cried. "You twisted, blood-tainted horror!"

"Your own father was a Muggle!" Voldemort countered angrily. Snape laughed. He sounded genuinely amused. Harry paused, as did Draco.

"Fool! You pride yourself on your power—your vaunted ability as a Legilimens, and yet you never once suspected!"

"Suspected what?" Voldemort snapped.

"You never suspected that I was not Severus Snape." With that, the former Potions master touched his wand to his own head. His skin seemed to ripple and malform. The hook nose disappeared and the greasy hair became a gleaming black mass. The features reformed into a chiseled, handsome visage. The shocked silence in the room was tangible. Harry took a disbelieving step forward.

"Sirius?"

The bright blue eyes flicked to him for a bare instant before a sneer—utterly Snapelike and familiar, but puzzlingly different at the same time—twisted the handsome lips.

"Not my dear departed brother, Potter. My name is Regulus."

Harry could not quite twist his mind around the revelation. Apparently, neither could Voldemort, who frankly gaped at him in incomprehension.

"Regulus Black? But… how?"

"How? Yes, that is quite a tale, isn't it?" Regulus casually lifted his wand and shot a lightning bolt hex that knocked the Dark Lord off his feet to smash into the ground several meters away. Voldemort climbed to his feet with a snarl. Harry looked at Malfoy, who shrugged in puzzlement.

"We seem to be a bit useless, at the moment," Draco commented. As if the words called Voldemort's attention, a green bolt shot toward Malfoy. Harry instinctively cast a Shield Charm and the spell careened away. Malfoy turned his attention back to the Dark Lord and cast a spell that echoed Snape—no, Regulus Black's—next curse.

The three of them moved to position themselves around Voldemort, who was beginning to look like a cornered animal. His protection charm had to be weakening, given the severe pounding it had taken.

"You were killed!" Voldemort yelled. "How can you be here?"

"You think you are the only one that knows about Horcruxes?" Regulus taunted. He laughed at the horrified expression on Voldemort's twisted face. "Oh yes, I know all about your little toys. But no, my explanation is far simpler. When you sent your little group of Death Eaters to kill me, I killed them instead. Bole, Pucey, and Severus Snape. I forced Snape to drink Polyjuice Potion to become me. And then I killed him. His death anchored the spell—his body remained in my likeness. I then Polyjuiced into Snape and returned to you in triumph."

Regulus quickly cast a spell that resembled Fred and George's bubble spell, except Black's seemed to be filled with poisonous gas. Voldemort struggled to dispel it. After a moment it wavered and burst.

"Of course, shortly thereafter you stupidly decided to attack the Potters when I told you about that ridiculous prophecy. The one I heard while applying for a job with Dumbledore. Under yourorders I might add." That seemed to strike Regulus as funny and he chuckled—a sound so reminiscent of Sirius that Harry felt a sharp spike of pain. "You might say you engineered your own downfall."

Voldemort gathered himself and sent four quick spells zinging at Regulus. One missed and two were miraculously deflected, but the fourth spun Regulus half-around and sent him to one knee with a grimace of pain. Harry and Draco quickly attacked Voldemort, giving Regulus time to recover.

"I've never seen you take Polyjuice!" Harry called. When Barty Crouch, Jr. had playacted as Alastor Moody, he had continuously nipped from a flagon of Polyjuice Potion. Regulus rolled aside and leaped to his feet to escape additional spells. Harry thought Voldemort was definitely weakening and sent another Sectumsemprablasting at the Dark Lord.

"Once Voldemort was gone, I confessed all to Dumbledore. It was decided that I would remain Severus Snape in order to avoid Azkaban. Ironic, seeing that my dear brother was sent to that very place for a crime he did not commit."

"How could you let Sirius go to Azkaban?" Harry shouted.

"I didn't know he was innocent at the time. Frankly, I wouldn't have cared. He was a right bastard to me, back then!" Regulus raced forward and shot spell after spell at Voldemort while closing the distance. Voldemort backed away while casting deflective counter-curses. Regulus continued to speak in a casual tone, although his breath was coming in harsh gasps from exertion. "Dumbledore and I expected you to come back much sooner, Lord Voldemort. Good old Albus made my transformation permanent so that I did not have to continually imbibe Polyjuice."

A blast from Voldemort caused Regulus to pause and drop to one knee to avoid it.

"You killed Dumbledore!" Harry yelled.

"It was the only way to get back into Tom Riddle's good graces," Regulus said. "Besides, the old fool was dead already. Destroying the ring nearly killed him and drinking the potion in the cave clinched it. There was no way to save him and he knew it."

"Don't call me Tom Riddle!" Voldemort shrieked suddenly and leaped at Regulus, who was taken off-guard at the unexpected movement. He crashed to the floor with the Dark Lord on top of him. Voldemort's wand twisted into the folds of Black's robes and a reddish glow emanated from the wand to shimmer over Regulus, who threw back his head and screamed agonizingly.

Draco lobbed curse after curse at Voldemort, who finally climbed off of Regulus with a snarl and turned on Malfoy. Regulus lay still. Harry shook off his horror and joined Draco's efforts. Malfoy looked more frantic than Harry had ever seen him. He was puzzled for a moment until he remembered—oh God, Hermione. If Regulus were dead, how would they find an antidote?

"We've got to end this now!" Draco yelled, racing across the room pursued by a barrage of spells.

"How?" Harry demanded, throwing himself aside when Voldemort shifted the attack to him. "Our spells aren't working!"

"Give up, Potter!" Voldemort said and laughed. "Regulus Black was a master of the Dark Arts. You can't even cast a simpleUnforgivable!"

"I can!" Draco yelled and sent three at the Dark Lord. "And you are weakening!" It was true, Voldemort was panting raggedly and he seemed to be in pain. Harry thought some of the spells were beginning to work.

"Not enough to matter," Voldemort said simply and cast again. The green bolt shot toward Draco in a flash. Malfoy cried out and fell.

"NO!" Harry screamed. With renewed energy, he attacked Voldemort once more. The reddish eyes seemed to glow with rage and he advanced on Harry, who backed away and nearly tripped over the broken chair. A bolt nearly hit him as he skirted the seat and continued backward. Voldemort followed until he stood before the chair.

"It's just you and me, Potter," Voldemort grated. "As it was meant to be." He lifted his wand in what Harry knew would be the final encounter. Harry's eyes met the reptilian orbs and he knew death was a single spell away. Make it quick, he prayed. A voice cut through Harry's dark thoughts.

"Potter, catch!"

He glanced over to see the Gryffindor sword flying hilt-first toward him from Draco's hand. Harry caught the sword without thinking, twisted, and launched himself straight at Voldemort. The blade thrust the Dark Lord backward into the chair and the force of Harry's attack sent the sword straight through Voldemort's body to pierce the chair. Harry's face was inches from Voldemort's and the red eyes were wide with reptilian surprise.

"Did I mention we destroyed all your Horcruxes?" Harry whispered coldly.

"No… it's impossible," Voldemort hissed. Blood sprayed from his lips with the words and Harry grinned like a Malfoy.

"Enjoy hell, Tom."

Voldemort howled and his body suddenly softened and twisted. Harry shoved himself away and stood back. The body, a construct of magic, seemed to both split and dissolve at once. The howling scream keened to an almost inaudible pitch and then died away. The shrunken body contained in the black robes shriveled away, leaving a shapeless mass held to the chair by the gleaming sword.

Harry fell to his knees in stunned relief.

Draco did not wait for Voldemort to die. After ensuring Potter actually caught the sword, he raced to Regulus Black. His hands wrapped in the black robes. Thankfully, the cerulean eyes opened.

"Draco," Regulus said and coughed. "My sweet cousin."

Draco stared at him for a moment, suddenly realizing why Snape had always seemed to favor him—and why he always spent time at the Malfoys. Regulus had always been his mother's favorite cousin… He had forsaken his family, except in the guise of a pathetic half-blood teacher. Draco shook off the thought.

"The antidote!" he demanded. "Give it to me."

"Draco. She's a Mudblood. Let her die."

Draco's hands clenched into fists and he half-lifted Black with a sob of fear. Regulus had sacrificed eighteen years of his life for his pureblood ideals. Would he sacrifice Hermione to spare Draco from the Mudblood taint? Draco had never begged for anything in his entire life. He did so now.

"Please. Please, Regulus."

Black coughed again and blood flecked his lips.

"It's for your own good, cousin."

Draco nearly slammed Black's head into the floor in frustration.

"Let me worry about my own good, damn you!" he snarled. "Now, where is it?"

Regulus shut his eyes and sighed. "It's in my office. Left of the door. Cabinet—second shelf. Third bottle over. Green label. Cousin, you'll never get there in time."

Draco flung himself to his feet and raced for the passage, knowing Regulus spoke the truth. The poison had already been in Hermione's system far too long. When Draco reached the entrance, he bowled over Ginny Weasley as she exited. She glared at him from the ground and he stared at her red hair for a moment as a wild idea dawned.

"Fawkes!" Draco yelled suddenly, scanning the room. The bird had evidently been perched nearby, for it only took a moment for it to land on Draco's shoulder. Malfoy sagged in relief. "Get the antidote. Snape's office!" He explained where it was and the phoenix streaked off in a blur. Draco clenched his fists in anxiety, skirted the red-haired stick girl without looking at her and walked to Hermione—still half-covered by Harry's cloak. Ron moved aside as Draco sat down heavily and slid Hermione's head into his lap. Her body was wracked with pain and she was drenched in sweat.

Harry Potter stood nearby with a worried expression. Ginny slipped her arms around him.

"Hold on, Granger, you insanely stubborn Gryffindor," Draco murmured and took both her hands in his. She squeezed his hands tightly, white-knuckled. Hurry, bird, he urged.

50 A True Gryffindor

Harry watched Draco for a moment, astounded at the change in the Slytherin. Less than a month ago, Harry would have given anything to watch Malfoy suffer. Now it was agony. He held Ginny tightly; knowing he should ask her about the Death Eaters, but nothing seemed to matter except Hermione's shallow breathing.

A small rattle behind him made him turn. Dobby's cage was twisted and bent, but not broken. Harry released Ginny and walked over to release the lock. Dobby climbed out and gratefully looked at Harry sadly.

"Dobby found the Dark Lord, Harry Potter," the house-elf said. Harry tried to smile. Dobby went on, "Kreacher is free."

Harry nodded. "Because Regulus Black is the true master of Grimmauld Place and has been since Sirius died."

"Yes, Harry Potter."

Harry's eyes went to Regulus, who still lay unmoving where Voldemort's spell had broken him. Harry walked over and knelt beside him. For a moment, he thought Regulus was dead, but he blue eyes—so like Sirius's—opened and glanced at him. Blood bubbled from his lips with every breath.

"We need to get you some help," Harry said in alarm.

"No, Potter," Regulus rasped. He grimaced. "So. You managed to win, after all."

"Thanks to you," Harry admitted, although he wasn't certain he meant it. His memories of Snape were so steeped in hatred, it was hard to reconcile years of anger with the man who now lay before him.

Regulus closed his eyes.

"You were so awful to me," Harry whispered.

"I hate you, Potter," Regulus admitted with a slight smile. "I hated your father, I hated Remus Lupin, and I hated my brother…until he was gone. I wish…" He coughed and wiped his lips with a pale wrist, leaving a smear of red across his handsome face. "We had fun together as children. I wish we could have held onto that as we grew. I missed him when he chose James Potter over me."

Harry felt a yawning chasm of pain calling him, as it always did when he thought of Sirius. It was mingled with the ever-present rage.

"You let him rot in Azkaban," Harry hissed.

"Do not try to lay penance on me, Potter," Regulus snapped, Snapelike. "I know what I've done."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You killed Snape after you were both out of Hogwarts. Yet when I saw the memory in the Pensieve during Occlumency lessons—you… Snape? were in school."

Regulus barked a wet laugh.

"That was a true memory of dear Severus," he admitted. "I coaxed it out of him one night when we were both smashed. I kept several of Snape's old memories to help in my charade. Luckily, the horrid little git was never popular and no one knew him well. My identity was never questioned."

A coughing spasm wracked his body and Harry stood quickly.

"I'll get you some help."

"Heal me so I can go to Azkaban for killing Dumbledore?" Regulus asked and grinned horribly.

"No…I'm sure—"

A shout distracted Harry—Fawkes had returned.

The phoenix landed on Draco's shoulder and dropped the vial into his hand. It was a tiny, opaque brown bottle with a green label. The writing had long since faded into illegibility.

Hermione had slipped into delirium. She kept murmuring Draco's name between wrenching spasms of pain. He carefully uncorked the bottle and slid a glance at Regulus Black. Harry crouched over the former Death Eater.

Draco paused with the vial poised over Hermione's lips. Regulus despised her kind—the potion could easily be another poison to hasten her demise. Hermione whimpered and Draco realized it would be a mercy to kill her quickly rather than let her suffer the torment she now endured.

He tipped the potion into her mouth.

Regulus's hand caught Harry's as he began to walk away.

"Potter—perhaps you can help me."

Harry threw an anxious glance toward the others gathered around Hermione and then crouched beside Black once more.

"In my cape—there is a potion with a red stopper. It will help with the pain. Left pocket."

Harry quickly rifled through Regulus's pockets—the man was a veritable cornucopia of potions. He finally located one with a red stopper. It was an ugly blackish potion, unlabeled.

Harry held it up dubiously, wishing he had paid more attention in Potions class. Regulus reached up and took it, but he did not have the strength to unstopper it. Harry took it and popped out the red cork.

Regulus grasped the vial with a shaking hand and emptied the contents into his mouth. He grinned sardonically at Harry.

"I'll say hello to Sirius for you, Potter," he said. Harry watched in disbelief as Black's hand dropped lifelessly to the floor. The vial clinked on the stone and rolled away.

"Damn you," Harry whispered and grabbed Regulus's throat, feeling desperately for a pulse. After a moment, he sat back on his haunches with a strange sense of despair. Regulus Black was dead—in truth this time. And Severus Snape with him.

Harry rose and walked back to his friends.

After a long moment, Hermione's breathing eased. Draco did not know whether or not it was a good sign. He held Hermione tightly, as though he could somehow transfer his life force to her.

His eyes met Weasley's. Ron knelt nearby and his blue eyes mirrored Draco's. For the first time, he felt kinship with the Weasel and smiled ruefully.

"She'll be fine," Ron murmured fervently.

Draco glanced over at the passageway as several people entered—Neville, Luna, Susan Bones, Tonks, Remus Lupin, and Jack Williamson. Harry joined them as they approached.

"Regulus Black is dead," Harry said. Draco felt a twinge of… what? Remorse? Regulus, as Snape, had taken an active role in Draco's life, especially recently.

"Regulus Black has been dead for years," Tonks said, puzzled.

"Not quite as dead as everyone assumed," Draco commented. He noticed Lupin was bleeding from several claw like gashes, especially one that had carved a furrow across his scalp and over one temple, narrowly missing his eye. Blood trickled down his face and dripped onto his robes. Tonks repeatedly tried to dab at it with a cloth, but Remus waved her back.

"Voldemort?" Lupin asked.

"The Chosen One triumphed over evil," Draco said dramatically and grinned at Potter's glare. He felt Hermione's hand clench on his and looked down to see her eyes open. She smiled softly.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"A bit better. I'm no longer praying to die."

"Thank goodness, because I'm praying for you to live and it would be damned counter-productive." His words were light, but still he feared the potion might not be an antidote. It could yet be a painkiller or sedative.

"What happened to the Death Eaters?" Harry asked.

"Susan Bones killed most of them," Ginny said. Draco decided to hate Susan a bit less next time he saw her.

"Greyback nearly got me," Luna said. "But Professor McGonagall saved me before…"

"Before Greyback killed her," Tonks said quietly. Harry sucked in a harsh breath, but Draco felt little at the news. McGonagall had been a minimal presence in his life. Hermione's eyes filled with tears and Draco decided it would be a good idea to comfort her. He kissed her and was pleased to note her lips were no longer ice cold. He was mildly entertained by the gasp of surprise his action brought from Lupin.

Hermione's hand reached up and touched his hair. Draco enjoyed the kiss a bit too much and had to force himself to break it.

"I can't breathe again," Hermione murmured.

Draco looked at her in alarm, but she giggled.

"It's your fault this time."

"Voldemort said he had the Ministry," Harry said. "Is there any word?"

Lupin snorted and batted away Tonks as she held the cloth up to his head.

"Voldemort was a bit premature, there. If he had waited a bit longer, until the full moon—it would have been awful. As it was, they were poorly organized; a rabble, really. They were led by Avery and consisted of a group of Greyback's pet werewolves. They completely broke ranks and ran amok throughout the Ministry. That Death Eater with a face like a hatchet—"

"Lars," Draco supplied.

"—arrived later and tried to get them under control, but it was too late. A handful of Aurors and some of the more competent Ministry officials made mincemeat of them."

"And then Fred and George appeared and it was quickly over," Jack said. "Those two are bloody brilliant."

"Although they are now in some trouble with Rufus Scrimgeour…" Lupin added.

Jack chuckled. "You should see what they did to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Lupin sighed and ducked Tonks again.

"If you don't hold still and let me tend to that, I'm going to bloody well hex you unconscious and then do it!" she yelled. For a moment, Draco thought the werewolf might actually defy his cousin, but then Tonks smiled and wheedled, "Please." Lupin caved like a cheap cauldron hit by a Bludger.

"What about Percy?" Ron asked suddenly. Luna had sidled over and attached herself to Weasley's arm, as she usually did to Draco. Ron didn't seem to mind.

"He's fine. The exchange went as planned. He's at St. Mungo's with your parents. A bit bruised and shaken, but he should be all right."

"I think I can stand," Hermione said. Draco helped her to her feet, wincing when the phoenix shifted and dug its claws into his shoulder. He wondered how to make the bird depart, but forgot the thought as Hermione swayed against him. Draco caught her and his arms went around her waist. Her hands clutched his shoulders. He stared into her wide brown eyes for a moment before he noticed she was grinning wickedly.

"I did that on purpose," she admitted.

"You are turning into a shameless hussy, Granger!" he whispered into her ear.

"I nearly died," she said. "I realized there are some things I want to do before that happens. Most of them involve you… without clothing."

Draco went rigid and sucked in a shocked breath.

"Should we leave?" Potter asked dryly, echoing Draco's thoughts. When Hermione looked at Harry, he grinned and enveloped her in a hug—which included Draco, since he had not released her. Malfoy suffered Potter's arm around his shoulders. For a moment.

"Potter can't keep his hands off of me, Granger. You might want to have a word with him."

"If you let go of her, I won't need to touch you at all," Potter commented.

"I don't want to deprive you of your meager pleasures."

Harry gave him a pained look. "Malfoy—"

"Oh all right," Draco said and freed Hermione. Harry immediately pulled her into a joyful embrace, joined quickly by Weasley. Strangely, Draco felt no envy seeing the trio thus enfolded. He no longer felt like an outsider.

Lupin was kneeling by Wormtail. He gently pulled the metal hand away from Wormtail's throat and closed the staring eyes with one hand.

"Maybe we were too hard on him," he said regretfully. "Did we exclude him? Sometimes I felt inadequate next to Sirius and James… It must have been so much worse for Peter."

"Don't blame yourself, Remus," Tonks said with a hand on his shoulder. "Peter was responsible for the choices he made. He had to have known the consequences."

Lupin sighed and stood up. "It was such a bloody waste."

Draco agreed with that statement, although he felt no remorse whatsoever that Wormtail was gone. The little bastard had caused so much destruction in his quest for… what? Power? Any power granted to him by Voldemort had been an illusion.

"Let's get out of here," Lupin said.

Harry retrieved Gryffindor's sword, grimacing when the black cloth dropped to the seat of Malfoy's ruined chair. Draco noted he'd have to find another for his father. Ron picked up the invisibility cloak and slung it over his shoulder. Jack Williamson levitated Regulus Black's body and Lupin did the same for Wormtail.

As they left the chamber and walked through the passage, Potter glanced at the phoenix on Draco's shoulder.

"Looks like you've acquired a pet," Harry commented.

"I think it acquired me," he said wryly.

Harry blinked and said, "You know, we could have used Fawkes to heal Hermione—his tears…"

Draco glared at him.

"Bloody brilliant of you to think of it now, Potter."

Harry grinned.

"You know, Malfoy, Dumbledore once told me something interesting." He paused dramatically and Draco steeled himself for the dreaded snippet of wisdom. "He said only a true Gryffindor could pull Godric's sword from the Sorting Hat."

Draco halted, aghast. Hermione laughed merrily.

"Maybe you should switch Houses," she said.

Draco and Ron spoke together.

"You've got to be joking."

Hermione wasn't. "Just because it's never been done before doesn't mean it can't be done."

Weasley groaned and clapped a hand to his head. The red-haired stick girl looked equally horrified, which made Draco pause and actually consider the idea. Anything the Weasley's hated…

"Red is an appalling color on me," he murmured, but the thought of being in the same portion of the castle as Hermione had its appeal, particularly since Draco already knew how to disable the spell that kept boys out of the girl's dorm…

He looked at Hermione in sudden, wicked speculation and she caught her breath in surprise.

"Why the hell not?" he said and laughed. If nothing else, it would cause a bloody uproar in both Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses. Hermione threw her arms around him and gave him such a heady kiss he was ready to throw off his green robes and don the hideous red at that moment—figuratively speaking.

"God, I'll never be free of him!" Weasley moaned.

50 Epilogue

Draco tugged at his new dress robes. Hermione had picked them out for him after informing him that his black ones made him look like a vicar. He flicked a speck of imaginary dust from the silver-grey sleeve and grinned. She stood across from him and her brown eyes glowed appreciatively. She winked evilly and his pulse sped a bit at the anticipation of dragging her away after this foolish wedding business was over.

Bill Weasley looked nearly as nice as Draco from where he stood next to the minister. His long red hair was pulled back in a silver clasp and he wore rich blue robes trimmed in silver. He looked cool and confident. The rest of the Weasleys looked well-scrubbed and polished, even the red-haired stick girl who batted her lashes at Potter. Draco grinned. He had asked Harry if Ginny had extended him sexual favors and Potter's scarlet reaction had more than answered the blunt question. Draco had been happy to note that tormenting Potter was far more satisfying now than it had ever been when they were enemies.

Fleur Delacour appeared and Draco's brows rose appreciatively. She looked a vision in palest peach and the satin gleamed where the summer sun touched it. They could not have chosen a more perfect August day. Draco's eyes left Bill's bride and touched the school beyond. It was still uncertain whether or not Hogwarts would reopen in a few weeks. The battle over the new Headmaster or Headmistress continued. Slughorn had agreed to return as Potions Master once more. In a surprising twist, Lucius Malfoy had announced his intention to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts and become the new head of Slytherin House. He had been cleared of any charges after the testimony of Potter and Ron Weasley at the trial.

Draco knew his father had decided to teach solely to sway Draco from the "insane path" he had chosen—namely his decision to join Gryffindor House (not that he really planned to go through with it, but he was having a bloody fabulous time getting everyone into a complete froth the idea), but also his open infatuation with Hermione Granger. There had been quite a row at Malfoy Manor once Draco returned home, although most of the shouting had been done by Lucius. Draco had listened with a pleased smile—so glad to be home without the threat of imminent death hanging over them that he barely heard his father's words. Lucius had finally collapsed in his new chair with a frustrated glare. Draco had walked over and planted a kiss on his father's forehead.

"I'll be fine, Father. We all will."

Draco's meeting with Granger's parents had gone much better. They immediately adored him, largely due to his stunningly perfect teeth, apparently. Draco had spent several days there and enjoyed the shower as often as possible, both singly… and with company. He flushed momentarily at the memory and glanced at Hermione in remembrance of her wet body covered in suds… She caught his steamy gaze and blushed profusely. Draco willed the bloody ceremony to end.

The last of the Death Eaters had been rounded up and sent to the Ministry for trail—but for Fenrir Greyback, who had escaped after attacking Lupin in the Chamber. Auntie Bellatrix had not gone quietly, screaming insanely that the Dark Lord would return as before. Potter and the others had exchanged smug looks at that outburst—they were confident all Horcruxes had been destroyed. Her husband, Rodolphus, had been killed in the battle with Susan Bones, Neville, and the others. Susan had stood trial and been released after the Carrows activities had been examined. The Carrows had been instrumental in the murders of Amelia Bones and several others. Susan was being closely watched by the Ministry and had to report in weekly, but at least she was not in Azkaban. The Longbottoms had taken her in and Draco vowed to watch that relationship closely. Psychotic Susan with passive Neville. It was curious.

Potter's birthday had been a riotous celebration. They had held it at Harry's house in London—horrid nasty place though it was, especially jammed with Weasleys. Their house was being rebuilt, but they planned to live with Harry until it was complete. Draco was certain the fringe benefit of having the red-haired stick girl under his roof had not escape Potter. The party had begun innocently enough with singing, eating cake and opening cute gifts. Draco had finally tired of it, kidnapped Potter and taken him to a seedy wizard bar. They had gotten completely shitfaced and Potter had been in the process of drawing lightning bolts on the ample bosoms of several local girls when Hermione and Ginny had tracked them down and ended the festivities.

Draco looked at Granger again through narrowed eyes. He still wasn't sure how she'd managed to find them. Clever little minx. He might have to torture the information out of her. The thought made him pleasantly warm again and he looked at Bill and Fleur. They were finally exchanging vows, thank God.

Finally the kissing, cheering, flower tossing and other wedding-related chores were past. They all adjourned to the Great Hall for the reception. Draco dragged Hermione straight to the Slytherin dungeon. She was vexed with him for almost two minutes until he kissed her senseless.

"We're going to miss the gift opening," she protested.

"Thank God," he said ardently. His fingers worked on the buttons of her gown while his mouth worked on the hollow of her throat.

"Won't it be nice to get back to school?" she asked.

"Nice," he agreed as the fabric pooled at her feet. Bloody hell, she was wearing those delectable lace undergarments again. Burnished copper in color. He picked her up and carried her to the cashmere rug he had installed before the fireplace.

"It will be rather sad, though. Our last year. I never asked what you plan to do after school."

Draco wasn't listening. It didn't matter; he knew how to silence her.

"Hermione?" he asked before kissing his way beneath the lace. She gasped and arched beneath him.

"Draco?"

"I love you," he said and proceeded to prove it.

End