Isolation Chapter 30: Taboo

Chapter 30: Taboo

Hermione blinked away the blurry fog of sleep and tried to focus. She felt it before she saw it, something in her hand that didn't belong, and her brow wrinkled with a puzzled frown when she noticed the extra set of fingers tangled with hers. The light in the tent was faint - a small teal flame withering in a lantern in the corner - but she instantly knew whose hand was holding hers, and she followed the arm up to Ron's sleeping face.

She snatched back her hand so quickly, her elbow collided with her hip. The temptation to shake Ron awake and lecture him about the decency of keeping his hands to himself came to mind, but the thought passed and she was suddenly very alert and fidgety. She abandoned the idea of trying to fall back to sleep and eased herself out of her camping cot, tip-toeing out of the tent and deciding to find Harry, who she knew was on watch tonight.

She spotted him several metres from their camp, leaning against the crumbling trunk of a lifeless oak tree, and when the moon glinted in his glasses, she knew he'd seen her. He'd been determinedly avoiding her since her confession about Draco and she thought he might stand and leave, but his shoulders sagged and he huffed out a breath that turned to cold mist as she neared him. There were things that needed to be said; a cracked friendship that needed to be mended.

"Hi," she offered meekly, sinking to the ground opposite him.

"Hi," he echoed, and the awkwardness between them made her cringe. "Hermione-

"I want to ask you-

"I have some questions too," he interrupted, looking almost nervous. "I, um, I want to apologise first for being distant with you for the last week. "

Relief warmed her. "It's okay."

"I just…it was just a big shock…well, it's still a big shock, and I-

"I know," she nodded. "I understand-

"Well, that's my problem," said Harry. "I have been thinking about it, and I still don't understand, and I think I need you…yes, I need you to explain it to me."

"You want me to tell you what happened? Between Draco and I?"

"I want to hear your reasoning," he muttered. "You're the smartest person I know, so maybe if you explain, it might make some sense to me."

She chewed her lip. "I…I'm not sure how to-

"How long?" he prompted. "How long have you…had feelings for him?"

She cast her memory back to the first kiss she had shared with Draco; that odd day with the bee sting when he had saved her life, and she had touched his face so unabashedly, and then it had happened. That had been the catalyst that had sucked her into Draco's life. That insane moment of impulse had changed everything.

"November," she mumbled distantly, remembering the winds. "It started in November."

"Okay," he said. "And how?"

She went back in time again, thinking of all the little events that had built up to that fateful moment; from their lingering stares, to late nights on the sofas with hot chocolate. From him reading her Muggle books, to her cooking him meals. From him panicking when she didn't return, to her stabbing their hands and mixing their blood. From every prolonged glance to every inquisitive touch.

From tolerance, to curiosity, to lust, and then love.

Life is nothing more than a series of flimsy incidents that build up to something beautiful or tragic. Sometimes both.

"You know, it's true what they say," she whispered before she even realised the words had left her. "You never really know someone until you live with them. In a way, we were both lost and out of our comfort zones. I didn't have you and Ron, and he didn't have his friends or family…we didn't really have anything, and when all that was stripped away, there was nothing to hide behind."

"But-

"And we both just…crumbled in front each other," she went on. "You-Know-Who wanted him dead and he was completely overwhelmed by his circumstances, and after I Obliviated my parents, I was so…devastated. But it made us...human, I think. We were…we were real because we were broken."

Harry's brow furrowed. "I don't understand."

"I mean it was just…us," she tried to explain. "Our personalities, our…souls, I guess. Just emotions and instincts, and we just…matched. Connected, almost."

"Because you were both alone?"

"No," she shook her head. "No, there were other people I could have found company with if it had simply been loneliness. It was more than that."

She could see the uncertainty behind the glare of his spectacles. "So he just…stopped caring? About you being a Muggle-born?"

"Oh, Merlin no. It took a while for him to even be civil to me, but that's just how he was raised. Perhaps I'm being optimistic, but I think he'd been questioning his ideas about blood prejudices before anything happened between us. Maybe even before he let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts."

"What do you mean?"

"You saw him last year, Harry," she sighed. "How tormented he looked. Surely if he'd been that certain that everything he'd been taught about Muggles and Muggle-borns was right, he would have actually gone through with it."

"Hermione, he was still-

"He was never evil, Harry," she defended her absent lover hastily. "He just…made the wrong choices. I think the doubt was always there, and I simply…gave it a push in the right direction-

"But that doesn't-

"Why do you love Ginny, Harry?"

"I…what do you-

"I mean, it's not exactly convenient," she carried on. "She's your best friend's sister. Why do you love her?"

"I um…," he stuttered clumsily. "I don't know why…I just do."

Her lips twitched at the corners with a sad smile. "Exactly."

Harry seemed to consider her for a silent moment before he shook his head and pushed his glasses further up his nose, a habit she knew he did when he felt uneasy. He stared at the tips of his shoes and exhaled through his nostrils.

"What did you want to ask me, Hermione?"

She dropped her eyes, sensing that he was done with their conversation about her relationship with Draco, and she couldn't tell if his opinion had softened or not. From the agitated drumming of his fingernails against his kneecaps, she doubted it.

"I wanted to know what you told Ron."

"Nothing," he mumbled. "I knew if I said you liked someone else, he would want to know who and ask a lot of questions. I just told him I hadn't spoken to you because I didn't know what to say."

She swallowed down an itch in her throat. "He was holding my hand when I woke up," she said. "Harry, I need to tell him-

"No."

"But it's not fair on him-

"Not yet, Hermione."

.

.

His lids had begun to feel so heavy, like his lashes were made of lead.

Exhaustion had hit Draco hard in the last fortnight days, sinking deep into his muscles until they throbbed, and a permanent headache had settled right between his eyes. In the fistful of days following the news of Ted's death, all those little patterns and routines that had kept everything running had diminished. There had been no languid games of Wizard's Chess, no communal breakfasts, and no midnight meetings with Andromeda over cold cups of coffee. Everything had fallen into a dreary and disorganised bedlam, and nobody could quite muster the effort to give a shit.

Except perhaps Blaise.

Andromeda had been sleeping in Tracy's room, because she couldn't bring herself to return to the home she had shared with her husband and confront all the memories that would inevitably be scattered everywhere amongst the dust. She barely surfaced from Tracy's room, and Blaise had done his best to keep some sort of order in their safe-house, assigning various chores to the Slytherins and adopting Andromeda's role as the head of the home, although Draco wondered if Blaise might be doing it to distract himself from his lonely nights without Lovegood, who had been missing for almost a week now.

It was...difficult.

Draco couldn't recall a time when he'd been surrounded by people coping with death in such a delicate manner, and he had no idea how to act amongst his mourning companions. He hadn't known Ted well by any stretch, but evidently his affinal uncle had had a huge impact on the others' lives before he'd arrived; a pseudo-father to Theo and Millicent it seemed, and melancholy is contagious when it's trapped in a confined space.

As expected, Theo's reaction had been the most severe, and for the first two days he had done nothing but vomit, scream, and try to demolish anything in his sight. But, much like life and everything else, the anger and energy had slowly bled out of Theo, and for the last four days he had mirrored Andromeda's corpse-like appearance and sluggish movements.

The two of them did nothing more than existed, trapped in a catatonic-like trance of bereavement that resisted any sort of purpose.

Blaise had concealed Theo's wand somewhere, and had also decided that he was to be monitored, and they all took turns to stay in his room at night, although Draco had offered to take the later shifts several times. He slept less than everybody else, so it made sense.

But it was all catching up to him now, and he had actually retired to bed at a reasonable hour for a change, so he was more than irritated when a disturbing dream about Dark Marks and Granger's cries woke him too soon.

Jolting up in bed with a harsh intake of air, there was cold sweat in his eyes and shivers scraping down his spine as the echoes of Hermione's screams rang in his ears. He dropped his face into his clammy palms and tried to steady his breathing, and he shot the clock a scowl when he realised it was half three in the morning.

He was contemplating whether or not it was worth trying to fall back to sleep when he heard it; the faintest murmur of voices from downstairs.

He knew it was most likely nothing, probably Miles and Tracy getting a drink, but a dubious sensation tugged at his gut. Pulling a t-shirt over his head and smoothing it down his sweat-dampened chest, he grabbed his wand and carefully left his room with silent footsteps.

"Lumos," he whispered as he moved across the landing.

The voices grew louder, but he couldn't identify who they belonged to or distinguish what was being said, so he followed them down the stairs and along the corridor until he was standing outside the kitchen door.

There were two voices, both female. He recognised Andromeda's gentle tone, but he couldn't place the second voice. He extinguished the glow of his wand and pressed his ear against the door as curiosity got the better of him.

"…and everything. I would have come sooner but it's so dangerous sending owls now, and I wasn't sure if your Wards would let me Apparate here, and I didn't want to use one of the Portkeys when my due date is so close-

"It's okay," Draco heard his aunt mumble. "I know you've had a lot on-

"No, I should've been here with you-

"Nymphadora, it's okay," Andromeda interrupted, and Draco's face screwed up on the other side of the door when he recognised his cousin's name. The cousin he didn't know.

"No, it's not," she said, and there was bang of flesh against wood, he assumed her fist and the table. He could hear the strain in her voice, that low tone of a person trapped between grief and raw fury. "I'm sorry, Mum, I-

"Stop apologising, Nymphadora. It's really fine. It's just…it's good to see you, sweetheart. I'm glad you're here."

"You know," his cousin said after a moment. "Remus and I were talking, and we decided that we're going to name the baby after Dad if it's a boy." `

There was a hollow pause, and Draco remained as still as his muscles would allow.

"I think that's perfect," sighed Andromeda, her voice fragile with emotion. "Your Dad would've loved that. Really."

"Well, I guess we'll never know, will we?"

"You sound so angry-

"Of course I'm bloody angry!" she barked. "They killed my Dad! They're killing people everyday, and then there's that bloody Muggle-born Registration Commission! Have you seen the propaganda they're making about Muggle-borns?"

Draco felt his chest tighten.

Muggle-born Registration Commission. Muggle-born. Granger.

"Yes," his aunt replied. "I saw something about it in The Prophet and there were some leaflets delivered to the house. It's awful-

"It's disgusting," Tonks spat. "I can't believe some people are actually believing all that crap. You know, when Hermione was staying with me, I…

Draco didn't hear the rest of that sentence. All his blood rushed to his ears and momentarily deafened him, until all he could hear was the rapid beat of his pulse as his vision went misty at the edges. It smacked into him so hard, a shaft of untainted rage that made even his fingernails burn, and then suddenly he was all adrenaline and heat, ramming his body into the door and bursting into the kitchen with his wand out and aimed. The two witches jerked with surprise, and Tonks was up on her feet, her wand centred on him, and her body carefully angled to protect her baby bump.

Tonks glowered at him with disgust. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Where the fuck is she?" Draco hissed at his cousin, and he barely recognised the sinister quality to his voice.

"Draco," Andromeda said warily. "Calm down-

"WHERE IS SHE?"

"Mum, what the hell is he doing here with-

"It's okay, Nymphadora-

"But, he's one of them," she argued stiffly. "He took the Mark, and he let the Death Eaters-

"He's defected," Andromeda explained quickly, rising from her seat. "Draco, please just lower your wand-

"Don't you come within an inch of me, bitch," he growled, slanting his eyes over to her. "You lied to me-

"No, I didn't-

"YOU SAID YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHERE SHE WAS!" he shouted, his voice quickly getting hoarse and his chest heaving. "YOU KNEW, AND YOU JUST LET ME THINK THAT SHE WAS-

"Draco, please just put down your wand-

"YOU HAVE SEEN HOW FUCKED UP I HAVE BEEN THESE LAST FEW WEEKS, AND YOU DID NOTHING!"

He was panting, eyes darting from his cousin to his aunt, and then back again. The betrayal left a bitter taste in his mouth as he absently wondered when exactly he had started to trust Andromeda, before he was silently scolding himself for relaxing his guard. He really should have learned by now.

"Draco, I swear I didn't know. Nymphadora only told me tonight-

"JUST TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!" he snarled fiercely. "NOW!"

"Who?" Tonks cut in.

"GRANGER!" he yelled, his hot glare back on his cousin. "I swear to Salazar, if you don't-

Andromeda groaned and swiped away a distressed tear. "Draco, just stop it. Please."

"Not until you tell me where Granger is," he said resolutely. "You will tell me-

"You mean Hermione?" Tonks asked, looking suitably baffled. "What does she have to with you?"

"SHE'S EVERYTHING TO DO WITH ME!" he fired back, his wand still trained on her and irately vibrating in his grip. "You tell me now!"

"Wait," his cousin mumbled, her eyes widening as she seemed to reach for a memory. "You? You're the…you're the boy she was talking about? Who she fell for at Hogwarts? You and her were-

"YES, ME!" he blurted, too incensed and impatient to care. "I AM THE ONE! I AM HERS! AND SHE-

"No way," Tonks shook her head doubtfully. "Hermione wouldn't-

"Nymphadora," said Andromeda, fixing her daughter with a meaningful look. "He's not lying."

Tonks' lips twitched, but her wand remained steady, and so did Draco's. There was movement behind him, but he held the eye contact with his cousin, ignoring the two sets of footsteps that entered the room and stopped a few feet away from his side. Intuition told him it was Blaise and Theo, but he was too focussed and driven by his wild temper, scratching like static beneath his skin, to glance in their direction.

"Malfoy," said Blaise, his tone sharp. "What in Merlin's name-

"Leave me be," he growled. "Don't get involved in this, just piss off-

"Draco, she's bloody pregnant-

"I don't give a shit!" he spat. "She knows where Granger is!"

"Granger?" Theo repeated quietly, evidently confused. "As in…Hermione Granger? Why would-

"I don't know where Hermione is!" Tonks yelled over him. "None of us-

"YOU SAID SHE'S STAYING WITH YOU!" Draco shouted. "I HEARD YOU, SO DON'T YOU FUCKING BULLSHIT ME-

"I said she was staying with me," she told him, her voice calmer and clipped. "Past tense, Malfoy. I have no idea where Hermione is now."

He faltered, and he suddenly felt very lethargic. "You're lying-

"No," she stopped him, as if she'd expected his response. "She was staying with me, but she left over a month ago-

"Where?"

"I don't know," she said slowly, relaxing her defensive stance. "She took off in the night. I assume she went to meet Harry and Ron-

"Oh, the death-trap twins!" he exclaimed, grinding his teeth when his voice cracked. "Fucking brilliant!"

"She will be fine," Tonks muttered. "Hermione is the brightest witch of her age-

"You stupid bitch," he sneered at his cousin, but he was starting to lose the fire to fight. He could feel the energy leaking out of his pores as the damaging wave of disappointment sank into him. "You let Granger, a known Muggle-born, just leave when there are Snatchers-

"Hermione knows to be careful-

"What, like your father did?" he replied, and a peculiar flash of satisfaction settled in his bones when he heard both his aunt and his cousin gasp at his cruel comment.

"Malfoy," hissed Blaise at his side. "You are done-

"Would you be so bloody calm if it was your witch?" he snapped at Blaise.

"My witch is missing too," his friend said, and Draco felt a hand applying pressure to his outstretched arm. "That's enough."

Draco didn't resist and lowered his wand, his eyes falling to the floor and clenched muscles flexing in his forearms. He had wanted just a little piece of information about Granger; just an assurance that she was safe, but that fleeting glimmer of something close to hope had been so quickly extinguished, and it felt like the air had been beaten out of him. He cradled his head in his free hand as the dull thuds of an inevitable migraine started banging against his sinuses. He could physically feel the eyes of the others measuring him, and he loathed them all in that moment for witnessing him lose control.

"Fuck this," he breathed, turning to leave.

"Hang on," Theo stepped into his path. "Have I gone insane, or am I hearing this right? You and Granger? Together?"

Draco didn't respond, but he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, daring Theo to make a derogatory comment or a mocking jeer. Instead, an odd expression stole his features, and Draco saw a flash of the mischievous and sarcastic man he'd known before Ted's death.

"Well," said Theo, a smirk trying to tug at his lips. "That's an interesting plot twist."

The urge to jam his fist into Theo's jaw turned his knuckles white, but he simply brushed past him and returned to his room, craving solitude and a shower where he might imagine Granger's reflection in the tiles.

The confirmation that she was roaming the war-ravaged country with Potter and Weasley injected a fresh and powerful dose of insomnia into his veins, and he did not sleep for four days solid.

He pointedly avoided the others, particularly Theo, Blaise and Andeomeda, until the latter sought him out on a rather dreary Tuesday in April. He remembered eyeing the new leaves and pink blossom outside his window, magnified by the layer of drizzle streaming down the pane. She came into his room without a knock, a genuine smile on her face that looked crooked, like she had forgotten how to.

She told him that she'd just received a letter, and that Tonks had given birth to a baby boy, Teddy Lupin.

He wondered why she thought he would care, and then wondered if he did.

He had mumbled a reluctant "congratulations," and she had left to visit her first grandchild.

The clot in Draco's chest had felt a little lighter, but he'd spent the rest of the day envying that baby for being oblivious to the dark and dying world he'd been born into.

Innocence and ignorance are one in the same; both blissful.

.

.

Hermione traced her fingers over the intricate pattern of swirls and loops of the sword's hilt, marvelling at how something so beautiful could be so deadly. Harry had given her the Sword of Gryffindor (and everything else for that matter), to store in her Charmed bag, insisting that she was the best person to keep their belongings safe. She'd had the sudden urge to study the artefact, fascinated by the history that she could practically feel beating in its blade.

It was warm beneath her touch. Warmer than her.

She slipped it back into her bag and returned to her book, underling anything that could be significant and jotting down a note here and there to come back to later. She was completely engrossed in her usual routine of reading and rereading words she had memorised weeks ago, trying to shake off thoughts of Draco that always managed to seep into her concentration. So when a friendly hand touched her shoulder and grazed the curls by her ear, she shot up to her feet with a startled gasp and her wand at the ready.

"Ron," she exhaled, lowering her wand from his Adam's apple. "You made me jump-

"Sorry," he mumbled quickly. "I did try calling your name."

"I was-

"Reading," he finished for her. "Yes, I know."

Hermione could tell he was nervous; it was so blatant in the way he shifted his feet and scrunched up his freckled features with uncertainty. She knew what was coming, and she nervously tucked the stubborn strands of hair he had touched behind her ear.

"Where's Harry?"

"He's making some food by the tent," he said. "Look, Hermione-

"I should go check if he needs a hand-

"Have I done something?" blurted Ron, and Hermione cringed. "I mean, have I…have I upset you, or something?"

She drew in a long breath. "No. No, you haven't upset me, Ron-

"Well…then I don't get it," he tried clumsily. "It's just…I thought you and I were…you know."

"Ron, I think-

"I mean, after what happened at the wedding and everything," he rambled on. "I know we never really talked about it, but I…do you regret it?"

"No, I don't regret it," she replied sincerely. "It's just that we-

"Because I thought that it meant we were together now, but it's…obvious that you don't feel that way."

The guilt was welling up in her chest so quickly. She was going to tell him. She could feel the words forming. "You're my best friend-

"But that's it?" he questioned dejectedly. "Just friends? That's all you see me as?"

"Ron," she started slowly. "You know I liked you, but…our opportunity to be more than friends just…came and went."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we took too long," she explained. "It was there for us to take, and we just…didn't, and it's because neither of us wanted it enough-

"That's not why-

"I'm sorry, but it is. It would have been…convenient for us-

"Convenient?" he repeated, and he looked wounded as he spoke. "What does that even mean?"

"I just mean that we spent so much time together, and it would have made sense, but…but convenience isn't a good enough reason to start a relationship. In fact, it's an awful reason-

"Hermione-

"Don't you think that if either of us really wanted it that much, it would have just happened?" she reasoned. "It wasn't like there was ever anything stopping us, except ourselves. Hell, our friends and family practically encouraged it-

"Are you still annoyed about what happened between me and Lavender?" he asked suddenly.

"No, of course not-

"Because it was just a mistake," he rushed out. He reached for her hand but she pulled away before he could graze her fingertips. "Hermione-

"Ron, I promise it has absolutely nothing to do with that-

"Then do you like someone else?"

There it was; the question she'd been dreading because the answer would destroy him. She wanted so badly to tell him, for only truth to exist between them no matter how hard it would be for him to hear it, but Harry's voice was whispering to her at the back of her brain. She watched Ron's anxious eyes flicker with disappointment, and she realised she'd been silent too long, and silence is simply a coward's confirmation.

"I-

"I knew it," he nodded, oddly calm. "I knew, but Harry said I was wrong-

"Ron, that's not the reason things didn't work-

"It's okay," he said with a painfully forced smile. "It's okay. I understand. We didn't see you for…what was it, five months?"

"Six," she corrected. "But I-

"Hermione, do you like someone else?" he asked again. "It's a simple yes or no question."

She shut her eyes. "Yes."

"That's…that's fine," he stumbled over his words. "I just wish you'd have told me-

"It's Draco Malfoy."

There was another silence, but this was the kind when even the birds and the winds seem to die in time, until nothingness is just screaming in your ears like a scorned banshee. She slowly peeled open her eyes and found Ron closer than she'd expected, his face frozen and blank, but then she saw his lips were stretching up his cheeks. And then he was laughing; that soft chuckle that made his shoulders bounce, quickly building in volume until it was heartily boisterous and causing his whole body to shake.

"That-that is hilarious!" he choked out between blasts of laughter. "Oh Merlin, Hermione, you do come out with some mental stuff-

She chewed her bottom lip. "It's not a joke, Ron."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Of course it is-

"Ron, look at my face," she said, bracing herself for the turn. "I'm not joking. It's Draco."

His chuckles weakened with every breath he sucked in, and his expression gradually twisted into a look of utter bafflement. His jaw sagged, and his baby-blue eyes narrowed into thin, curious slits that inspected every detail of her face like he'd never met her before. He cleared his throat, and she found herself oddly transfixed on a thick vein that twitched in his neck.

"Hermione," he frowned. "It's not funny any more-

"It's not meant to be funny," she told him. "It's the truth-

"Don't be ridiculous," he snorted. "No…no, it's impossible."

She groaned into her palm. "Ron, I know this a shock-

"I don't believe you-

"Ron," she sighed. "I swear on my life that Draco-

"Stop saying that name!" he barked, his eyes going wide and . "You've gone bloody mad!"

"We were together at Hogwarts," she murmured. "And I fell-

"Don't you dare say it!"

"If you just…if you just let me explain-

"Hermione, stop it!" he yelled, turning away from her and balling his fists in his hair. "Stop it now!"

"You might understand," she pleaded, trying to grab his arm. "You might-

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" he bellowed, loud enough that a flock of birds in a nearby tree scattered. "I love you! Did you know that?"

"Ron, please-

"Did you know that when Harry and I found the locket, it showed me my biggest fear?" he told her, and the tears in his eyes made her breath hitch. "And did you know it showed me you? You and Harry! And now you're telling that it's you and Malfoy! "

"I-I'm sorry!" she sputtered, and she was crying too. "Ron, I really am. I just needed to tell you-

"How the fuck could you do this to me?"

She flinched. She'd only heard him use the harsher swear words a couple of times and they sounded so out of place on his tongue. "Ron, I never meant to hurt you-

"SHUT UP!" he roared, clenching his eyes shut like he was in physical pain. "Shut. Up! Just stop it!"

"Hey!" Harry's voice came from behind her, and she spun around to find him jogging towards them. "I heard shouting-

"She's lost it, Harry!" Ron shouted, pointing a trembling finger at Hermione. "She's completely bloody lost it! She said that her and Malfoy were at Hogwarts and-

"You told him about Malfoy?" Harry snapped his eyes to her. "I told you not to tell him!"

"I'm sorry," Hermione sniffed. "I needed to-

"Wait. You knew?" Ron accused, and he looked completely betrayed as he regarded Harry. "You knew, and you didn't say anything?"

"Ron, mate," said Harry steadily. "I'm sorry-

"You lying tosser!"

"Mate, calm down-

"DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!" he seethed. "Both of you stay the hell away from me-

"Please, Ron," Hermione tried desperately. "If you just give me a moment I could…Draco's not like he was-

"He's a bloody Death Eater, Hermione! A. DEATH. EATER!"

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he fucking is!" he spat. "He tried to kill Dumbledore! He let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts! He's got the Mark and everything, you idiot! He follows Voldemort, and-

"RON, NO!" she cried frantically. "THE TABOO!"

But it was too late. The wind changed, and she could hear them coming.

 

Isolation Chapter 29: Weeks

Chapter 29: Weeks

Hermione flicked aside another page with a huff of irritation.

After some intense reading about the Deathly Hallows and a futile hunt for any documented hints about the whereabouts of the Elder Wand, she had returned to her obsessive research on the Horcruxes. After a few weeks, with nothing accomplished but bags under her eyes and chewed fingernails, she could feel the inevitable tension sneaking up on Harry, Ron and herself.

It was only natural, she knew. While they would always be the closest of friends, spending every second of every day with only metres for personal space and drowning in all this angst and apprehension was taxing, to say the least.

It didn't help that they were all trying to deal with their individual troubles.

Harry was constantly uneasy, blaming himself for every death and swinging between moods of melancholy and madness, while Ron constantly fretted about his family and struggled to realise his significance in their little group, leaving him frustrated and testy. She knew she was hardly helping his insecurities with her rejection of anything that could lean towards something beyond friendship, but the thought of anyone other than Draco murmuring against her lips made her feel queasy and unfaithful.

And therein lied her own problems; guilt and heartache.

Hermione scorned herself for lying to Harry and Ron, but she went to bed each night begging nameless gods that she wouldn't call out Draco's name in her sleep so she could keep the secret just that little bit longer.

But she could feel the confession eagerly waiting on the tip of her tongue.

Lying to them was simply too hard on her conscience.

"Hermione," Ron's voice stole her, and she met his eyes over her shoulder. "Do you want some food?"

"No, thank you," she said, knowing Harry was resting in the tent. "I think I may be onto something, so I ought to keep reading."

The inevitable disappointment marred his boyish features. "You could come and sit with me for a little while?"

"I'll come back up in a moment," she offered. "I won't be long."

"Okay," he sighed with a nod, pivoting on his feet to walk the short distance back to the tent, his shoulders hunched with defeat.

"Ron," she called, frowning when he didn't turn back to acknowledge her. "Happy Birthday."

.

.

A week later.

Draco had forgotten what if felt like to have sunrays kiss his face.

February had come and gone, and March had brought some Spring heat to warm the breeze. He was in his usual spot, sat on the stone steps and trying to ignore the irritating voices of Bletchley and Davis, who were having an unnecessarily loud lovers' tiff inside the house. He absently realised he'd been here just over a month now, residing in Andromeda's safe-house with the defected Slytherins. A month without Granger.

A fucking month.

The notion that time heals all wounds does not apply to the scars of young lovers separated too soon. Draco still felt as damaged as the day Granger had cried in the rain and sent him here.

He drifted between moments of blistering anger to a damning numbness that made his bones vibrate beneath his skin. He had tried to distance himself from the others, preferring to linger on the outside and only involve himself with their discussions when he decided the solitude was getting to him, but he seemed to find himself interacting with them more and more as the weeks rolled by.

Since Ted's departure, Andromeda's sleeping pattern had deteriorated and hidden itself under the floorboards, much like his, and sometimes they would find each other in the kitchen during the lonely hours before dawn. They would sip lukewarm coffee and pass the nights with only a handful of sentences between them, and although neither of them would ever admit it, their odd routine became something of comfort.

And it wasn't just his aunt's company that helped to keep him sane.

Draco and Theo had taken to playing Wizard's Chess in the afternoons, and Blaise would often join them when Lovegood was elsewhere, like she had been for the last seven days. As if to punctuate that thought, Blaise burst through the door so violently that it slammed against the wall and shuddered on its hinges.

He surged straight past Draco without acknowledgement, his strides heavy and harsh, and his wand clenched firmly in his trembling fist. Draco remained silent as Blaise came to an abrupt stop a few metres away and raised his arm to hurl a non-verbal curse at one of Andromeda's apple trees. It exploded with a shrill bang, and cindering splinters rained down with red and orange sparks.

"Feel better?" Draco questioned.

"No," Blaise spat, slowly turning around. "I just felt like killing something innocent."

Unable to think of a response, Draco simply studied his old friend; from the shadow of week-old stubble glittering on his jaw, to the broken skin of his chapped lips, and to his swollen and bloodshot eyes.

Insomnia is never a secret. It carves itself into your appearance.

Seeing Blaise so affected by Lovegood's absence made Draco feel uncomfortable, for Blaise had always been the rational one, while Theo had a volatile nature that often led to outbursts, and Draco decided he was somewhere in between the two.

"Those two are doing my fucking head in," said Blaise, his voice hoarse as he started to pace back and forth. "Screaming at each other like a pair of ten-year-olds over something they can't even remember-

"They'll calm down in a bit-

"And Theo is pissing me off-

"Zabini, just take a seat. You're giving me motion sickness-

"It's been seven fucking days, Malfoy!" he blurted. "Seven! She's usually gone for three, maybe four at the most. Something happened-

"Blaise, just relax-

"Don't tell me to bloody relax, Malfoy!" he spat. "You don't know-

"I don't know what?" Draco cut him off, narrowing his eyes. "You think seven days is bad? Trying a fucking month."

Blaise hesitated. "You mean Granger?" he asked with a cynical tone. "It's different-

"No, it's not-

"You finally admit you love her then?" he challenged.

Draco broke their eye contact and stared at the smoking remains of the apple tree. "Ask me again when something good happens." He closed his eyes. "Ask me on a day when nobody dies."

Luna came back that evening and told them to turn on the radio, rambling about something called 'Potterwatch.'

Blaise shaved.

Draco wore the coat Granger had given him and destroyed two apple trees.

.

.

Another week later.

In her dream, people were screaming, and she could neither move nor blink.

Draco, Harry and Ron were calling her name somewhere behind her, but she couldn't turn her head to find them, and the blood of the fallen was crawling her legs like a morbidly beautiful parasite. She willed her dream-doppelganger to twist or budge but it was futile, so she stopped fighting and just listened to the voices.

"Do you think Hermione's been acting a little odd recently?"

It was Ron's voice, and it sounded clear and close. She concentrated on it, and the howls of the dying started to weaken, and the dream began to fade.

"What do you mean?"

Harry's voice. She managed to blink, and her surroundings morphed into the familiar inside of their tent. Sucking the air through her teeth and shaking off the disturbing remains of her nightmare, she scanned the space for her two best friends and found their shadows near the entrance, flickering across the fabric. They were outside the tent, and she could hear the staccato crackling of a fire as she tried to catch their mumbled conversation.

"She's just…," Ron sighed. "She's been really quiet, and she's always reading one of those books-

She heard Harry scoff. "That sounds like classic Hermione to me-

"She won't let me touch her," Ron rushed out, and Hermione frowned into her pillow. "And I don't mean like…you know, like that. She won't let me hug her or anything, and it's like she doesn't want to be alone with me."

"Maybe she's just trying to focus on finding the Horcruxes," Harry offered. "You know what she's like when she sets her mind on something."

"No, it's something else," Ron argued. "Do you think she might still be mad about the Lavender thing? I mean, I know I screwed up with that, but I thought after what happened at Bill and Fleur's wedding-

"Please don't give me any specifics-

"That we would be alright now," he continued quickly. "That we would be together and stuff, like boyfriend and girlfriend or something."

Hermione grimaced and closed her eyes, Ron's words eating away at her conscience.

"Maybe she's just upset about something, like the whole thing with her parents," she heard Harry suggest with obvious uncertainty. "You could always ask her?"

"I'd say something stupid to make it worse. You could ask her for me, though?"

"Ron, I'm not sure that's a good idea, and I don't really want to get involved-

"But she'll probably talk to you about it," Ron pushed. "Even if I tried to talk to her, she would just make some excuse and leave. I told you, she won't be alone with me-

"And what makes you think she would talk to me about it?"

"Because you two are close with things like that. You said yourself that you're like brother and sister-

"Yes, but-

"Please, mate," said Ron, and Hermione's heart sank at the desperation in his voice. She hated that she was the cause of it. "Just give it a go, and then maybe I could-

"Just give it a little more time," Harry mumbled so quietly that she barely heard it. "She might still be a little upset that we left her behind-

"No, it's something else-

"Just give her a bit longer, Ron," said Harry, his words firm this time. "Everyone is going to be acting differently right now because everything is different. Hermione probably had a few things going on at Hogwarts that she's thinking about, like the whole thing with Snape. There's probably other stuff too-

"Yeah, like maybe she doesn't see me that way anymore," Ron mumbled, so quietly Hermione barely heard him. "Maybe she started to like someone else."

She inhaled a sharp breath and locked it in her lungs, keeping as still as possible when the voices of her two friends paused. Her pulse sped up a little, and she wondered if she had indeed whispered something indicative in the rare hours that granted her sleep.

"Ron-

"Is that so hard to believe, Harry?" he went on. "We weren't with her for months. She could have easily fallen for someone else, like Justin or Michael or…Merlin, it could be anyone-

"You don't know that-

"But it could have happened. And…you know, of course I'd be gutted and everything, but I'd rather she told me-

"You're jumping to conclusions," Harry interrupted tiredly. "I think you should just leave her for a little while-

"But if nothing changes, you'll talk to her for me?"

"Yes, alright," Harry groaned. "But I think you're getting worked up over nothing."

"Cheers, mate," said Ron, and she knew he would be forcing a tight grin. "Hey, pass me the radio. I want to see if that 'Potterwatch' thing is…

Hermione felt the guilt nibbling at her heart again, and she blanked out their voices as a lone tear skimmed down her cheek and stained her pillow. She tucked her chin against her chest, and the comforting ghost of Draco's scent, still barely trapped in his t-shirt, fell against her tongue. It really hit her at that moment; just how much her secret was pushing pressure into the cracks of her relationship with her best friends.

She knew then that she would have to tell Harry and Ron.

.

.

Another week…

In a rare incident of reluctant rapport, Andromeda, Luna and the defected Slytherins (minus Tracy and Miles, who had yet to emerge from bed) somehow ended up meeting for breakfast in the kitchen that morning. Draco scowled at the back of his aunt's head when their elbows clashed, causing him to pour a little too much milk into his tea, but she was too busy trying to prepare food with rushed spells and a clumsy wand arm to notice. Rolling his eyes and deciding that starting from scratch would be pointless, he joined Millicent, Theo, Luna and Blaise at the table and stared at the steam rising from his mug.

"You make it the Muggle way," Luna remarked, dragging him from a daydream before it had even started.

"What?"

"Your tea," she said. "You always make it the Muggle way."

"I noticed that," Theo chimed in. "Your food too, now I think about-

"So?" Draco shrugged. "What's your point?"

"You're a spoilt prat who is used to taking the easiest option," said Blaise curtly. "You would normally use magic-

"I didn't have my wand when I was staying in Hogwarts-

"But you have it now-

"I've just gotten into the habit of doing it myself," Draco shot his friend an impatient glare. "Merlin, you lot are fucking nosey-

"Is the new way better than the old way?" Luna asked suddenly.

His attention shifted to her; his eyes wary and calculating. After fractured weeks in the eccentric presence of Lovegood, he had learned that she wasn't the dim-witted girl he had always expected she would be. On the contrary, he was convinced that everything she said had a hidden meaning or a riddle attached to it, which irritated him to no end, and he was just about to tell her to mind her own business when the radio in the centre if the table screeched.

Since Lovegood had introduced them to the pirate programme, the radio had remained in the kitchen, and he had half-listened to two broadcasts, which had featured 'River,' 'Romulus' and 'Royal' attempting to calm the public and encourage them to assist Muggles. He watched Lovegood tap her wand against it and mumble the appropriate password - Padfoot this time - and as the sullen voice of 'River' floated into the kitchen, Draco felt his gut twist with anxiety.

Listeners, we don't have much time…

Draco did a quick scan of the room and knew they all felt it too; a foreboding knot of apprehension in their chests. Andromeda had paused her ministrations and was nervously wringing her hands, her eyes fixated on the radio. The others were all so still and rigid that it looked like their bones might shatter beneath their flesh, particularly Theo, who seemed to be holding his breath.

It is with great regret that we inform you that we have learned of several deaths that have not been reported by the Wizarding Wireless Network News…

In his peripheral vision, Draco saw Lovegood grasp Blaise's hand so tight, her nails sliced into his knuckles.

Fuck, he missed Granger.

We can confirm that the following people have been murdered…

Everything got a little blurry for Draco at that point.

Annabelle Snowbloom…

Samantha Jones…

Lewis Gibson…

He didn't recognise those names.

Ted Tonks…

He heard his aunt take in a shuddering breath, and that's when everything began to fall apart. He couldn't tear his eyes from the radio, but he heard the drumming of stumbling footfalls and an unnatural strangled sound as Andromeda ran for the back door with sobs clogging her throat. Theo was up on his shaky legs a second afterwards, staggering out of the room and knocking over glasses and ornaments as he went.

Draco kept listening.

Dirk Cresswell…

"Fuck," Blaise swore behind his teeth. "I should-

"No," Draco heard Lovegood say. "You go and check on Theo. Millicent and I will go to 'Dromeda."

There was another rumble of rushing footsteps and chairs clattering to the floor. A door opened and the broken cries of Andromeda harassed Draco's ears before the door slammed shut and cut them off.

"Draco," Blaise called. "Come on, I might need a hand with Theo."

Blaise's voice barely registered.

A Goblin by the name of Gornuk…

"Draco, come on!"

"Just give me a minute," he hissed quietly.

Matthew Greenweed…

There was a heavy thud from upstairs and the piercing crash of exploding glass.

Blaise growled from the door. "DRACO, WILL YOU JUST-

"I SAID JUST GIVE ME A FUCKING MINUTE," he roared.

"What the hell-

"I NEED TO-" his voice broke for a moment. "I JUST NEED TO MAKE SURE THAT GRANGER ISN'T ON THAT FUCKING LIST, OKAY?"

That must've been good enough because he heard Blaise sprinting up the stairs, followed by muffled yells and heavy thuds that made the ceiling lights judder.

Timothy Stephenson…

Grace Hartwood…

He was panting, and his heartbeat was pounding against his eardrums.

And Dominic McGrath. We have to go off the air now, but as we do, we ask you to take a moment's silence, in memory of those who have fallen. Keep safe and keep faith.

Draco let go of a moaning breath and dropped his head with relief. He stole some selfish seconds to let all the trepidation ooze out of his pores, but a choked scream from upstairs snapped him out of his alleviating trance, and with uncooperative limbs, he stood up and went in search of Blaise and Theo. He followed the sounds of scuffling and disconcerting whines that sounded too raw to be human to Theo's room, and he found carnage.

A section of Theo's desk was charred and smoking, the window had been smashed through with what Draco guessed was a chair, and there was blood smeared across the spider-web cracks of the destroyed mirror. His eyes trailed the path of blood down the wall and across the floorboards until they landed on Blaise and Theo.

They were struggling on the floor; Blaise desperately trying to keep a hold of Theo's hands and distribute his weight to gain some balance. Draco realised then that there was a wand a couple of feet away, and Theo was trying to drag himself over to it, hooking his nails into the splinters of the floor. There were shards of mirror-glass embedded in Theo's skin, glinting in the morning sun, and Draco cringed when one of Theo's fingernails split and ripped away from his cuticle, and he let out a pathetic whimper. He didn't stop reaching for his wand though.

"Draco, bloody help me!" Blaise demanded. "Grab his arms!"

He blinked to clear his head before he did as instructed, grasping Theo's elbows and giving them a firm tug so they were behind his back. Draco noticed the sweat gathering between Theo's shoulder-blades and dribbling down his temple as Blaise altered his stance and helped to keep Theo's arms locked in place.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME!" he screamed. "BLAISE, I SWEAR I WILL CRUCIO YOU WHEN I GET FREE-

"Where is your wand?" Blaise asked Draco.

"Downstairs."

"Shit, mine too-

"I AM WARNING YOU, BLAISE!" Theo threatened furiously. "LET ME GO!"

"Theo, breathe," said Blaise steadily. "Come on, mate-

"FUCK YOU-

"Easy, Theo," Blaise tried. "Just breathe in, and then out. Come on. Just try it."

Draco heard him swallow a huge gulp of air, and Theo was shaking so violently, that his limbs contorted in disturbing shapes and angles. Then he started to retch and gag, and Draco hesitantly patted Theo's back as he heaved up his stomach contents, and the acidic stench of bile invaded the room.

"Easy, mate," Blaise mumbled quietly. "There you go."

"Fu-fuck them," Theo choked between heaves. "I-I hate them."

"It will be alright," Blaise soothed. "It will be alright."

But Draco didn't believe him.

.

.

Not a week. Just the hours of daylight.

Hermione flicked her wand to awaken the dying fire. It was her turn to keep watch tonight, and she had ventured a good distance away from their camp to escape the repetitive drone of Ron's snoring, mindful to stay within the Wards. She tilted her head and looked back up to the cloudless sky; a deep blue canvas speckled with blinking stars, and she decided it was all too calm. Too beautiful.

They'd listened to the 'Potterwatch' broadcast earlier and Hermione's heart had sank for Tonks. If her calculations were correct, Tonks was only a few days away from her due-date, and she couldn't begin to comprehend how her friend would be feeling under the circumstances. And Annabelle Snowbloom…

Yes, she'd only met the woman for a fleeting moment in time, but sometimes the briefest of encounters can leave the boldest of imprints on your memory.

Hermione simply found it all so bizarre that there were wizards and witches being slaughtered amongst the flames of war, and here she was; studying constellations with a book in her lap and only the snapping sounds of embers the to disturb the peace.

For the hundredth time, she caught herself staring at the fourteen stars that outlined the constellation in the shape of a dragon, and she closed her eyes to savour a daydream of Draco sighing against her neck.

Her eyes snapped open and she straightened her spine when a second set of breaths accompanied hers.

Her conscience was itching again.

"You should be resting, Harry," she mumbled guiltily as he neared her. "You kept watch last night, so you must be tired."

"I can't sleep," he replied, dropping to the ground to sit beside her. "I thought I'd come keep you company, and I wanted to talk to you-

"Are you going to ask me why I've been avoiding Ron?" she questioned before she lost her nerve, and she frowned when Harry's eyebrows lifted with bewilderment. "I heard you two talking about it several nights ago-

"Hermione, we didn't mean anything by it-

"I know, I know," she hushed him. "I'm not upset or anything. I mean, Ron was right, I have been acting…differently around him, and you are entitled to explanation, but I just…I am uncertain how to explain this."

"You know you can tell me anything," said Harry softly. "It's okay-

"I'm not sure if I…," she trailed off, but she shook her head firmly. "No. No, I need to tell you-

"Hermione-

"Ron was right," she rushed out. "I, um…I don't feel anything romantic towards him like I used to, and there is…someone else."

Harry tilted his head, and she could see a flicker of disappointment behind his glasses. "We thought that might be the case," he confessed. "Well…that's okay-

"It's not that part I'm worried about," she moaned, and she had to avert her eyes. The dance of the flames captivated her for a moment. "I just…I need to figure out how to tell you this."

"Hermione-

"Right," she said with conviction. Hell, she had started now. "Remember what I told you about Snape? Well, he came back to Hogwarts to ask McGonagall a favour…And I was there, and, um…the favour was to hide…" she hesitated before she said his name. "…Draco from You-Know-Who, because he failed his mission and-

"Malfoy?" Harry asked in a stunned tone. "Malfoy was at Hogwarts? We thought he was dead."

"No," she whispered. "He's very much alive. Anyway, McGonagall asked me to…keep an eye on him, I guess, and he was staying in my dorm, and we lived together for a few months-

"I don't understand," Harry interrupted, looking completely lost. "What does Malfoy have to do with this?"

"Everything," Hermione blurted, and she met her best friend's confused stare because she had to. Her heart went wild in ribcage. This was it. "Harry, it's him…it's Draco."

She felt her chest constrict when her best friend physically recoiled at her words. "What...what are you-

"Now just…just listen to me," she stuttered. "When he was living in my dorm, I got to know him and we just…I developed feelings for him and it just sort of happened-

"You're actually serious," he murmured incredulously, getting to his feet and backing away from her. "Hermione, are you-

"He's not what you think he is," she rambled desperately, following him as he moved away. "He's not, I swear-

"He's a bloody Death Eater!" Harry exclaimed. "How could you even think that-

"He's not really one of them!" she argued quickly. "You know he's not! You said yourself that he wouldn't have actually killed Dumbledore-

"And that excuses everything else?"

"No, of course not!" she tried, and she felt the tears begin to burn. "But he's not like that now! Harry, I swear, if you could just speak to him, you would see-

"I would see the same evil prat who did everything he could to make our lives hell!"

"No, no you wouldn't," she disputed adamantly. "He's different now. Think about Regulus, Harry! And Snape! It's not always so black and white. People can change. People do change-

"Not him!"

"Harry, just listen-

"You betrayed us!"

"He's not one on their side-

"He's not on our side though-

"Harry, please trust my judgement on this," she implored, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face her. "You are…you are best friend, practically my brother and I need you to try and understand."

A pained expression crossed his features. "Hermione, I don't think I can-

"Harry, you know me," she continued. "If I…if I thought there was any way that he would still be associated with the Death Eaters, then I wouldn't-

"I just can't-

"I'm sorry for lying to you," she said sincerely. "I really am-

"But not for getting involved with him?"

"I…no," she stammered. "No, I don't regret what happened-

"Do you love him?" asked Harry suddenly.

"What?"

"Do you love him?"

Hermione swallowed back the lump in her throat. "Yes, I do."

He grimaced and pulled away from her, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. She could see the conflict etched in every muscle of his face as he began to pace for some lingering minutes, glancing back at her and shaking his head. She wanted to continue defending Draco, but she doubted it would help the matter, and as the silence stretched out between them, she could see the horror slowly leaving Harry, until he released a heavy breath and paused his steps.

"I'm not going to pretend I understand," he said finally. "I don't think I ever could-

"Harry-

"But you are my best friend," he carried on, looking completely defeated. "I love you like a sister, Hermione, and I…I'm thinking about the people who were killed today and…You know, the likelihood that we will all survive this War is not looking brilliant-

"You don't know that. We can win this-

"But we might not," he stopped her. "And I would never want you and I to end on bad terms after everything we have been through. You have stood by me through all the…insane decisions I have made with no questions asked, and perhaps I can…return that favour…I think."

"Harry-

"I'm not saying I'm happy about it," he told her. "Far from it. I think you are…completely wrong about Malfoy, and I don't think that opinion will ever change, but it's not like he's here and I have to see it, so I will…tolerate it, I guess."

"Okay," Hermione accepted his response with a weary frown. "Well…thank you. Now, I just need to figure out how to tell Ron-

"You can't tell him," Harry interjected swiftly. "No way-

"What do you mean?" she asked. "He needs to know. I feel like I'm leading him on, and it's cruel-

"Hermione, it would devastate him if he knew about Malfoy," he reasoned. "And he's got enough to think about. Didn't you see him today when they were announcing who had been murdered? All his family are involved in this War-

"I can't keep lying to him, Harry-

"He loves you, you know," he stated as though it was obvious. "He hasn't said it, but I can tell he does-

"Harry," she groaned. "That's all the more reason-

"You can't tell him," he said firmly, brushing past her. "I'm going to bed. Tomorrow we act like this conversation never happened, okay?"

Hermione sighed, looking back at the withering fire as she numbly nodded her head with assent. She could hear Harry's footsteps getting distant as he returned to the tent, and she was alone again. Retaking her seat on the ground, her eyes went back to the sky and sought out the constellation that stirred memories, and it was as if nothing had changed.

The lies and secrets remained, and her conscience felt just as bruised as before.

Isolation Chapter 28: Angel

Chapter 28: Angel

Contrary to popular belief, the infamous monument that stands tall in Piccadilly Circus is not a statue of the Greek God, Eros.

When Hermione had stumbled across an old Victorian text in The London Library referring to it with another name, she had naturally been intrigued and given herself a little research project to pass the time during her summer holidays before fourth year. It had originally been a statue of Eros' brother, Anteros, but had been renamed 'The Angel of Christian Charity' for some time, before being changed back to Anteros. Despite this, almost every tourism guide, signpost and local Londoner - be them cockney or otherwise - still call it 'The Statue of Eros.'

When she'd returned to Hogwarts, she had told Harry and Ron about her findings and they had predictably been indifferent, but she had scolded them every time they'd called the monument its incorrect name, and they had eventually grown tired of her lectures on the importance of appreciating its true title. Ron, for some reason, had had a little difficulty with the name Anteros, and he'd kept mispronouncing it, 'Antross,' which had only irritated her more.

Somehow, they had compromised, and they had started calling it 'The Angel of Christian Charity' - for at least that had been its name at one point - and then that had simply been shortened to 'The Angel.'

The Angel in the Circus.

She had been born at exactly half four in the morning, a detail she was surprised Harry and Ron had remembered, but perhaps they really had been listening between the eye-rolls and blank expressions.

She had to give the boys credit. The destination was cryptic with their inside joke, and Piccadilly Circus would be busy enough with London's constant bustle for them to go unnoticed at that time, but not too busy to get disorientated.

After throwing all her belongings into her charmed bag, including all the books she had yet to read and all the notes she had scribbled in the last week, she had whispered a goodbye to Crookshanks and told him to behave while she was away. It had barely passed midnight, so she sat in the kitchen for a few hours, fidgety with anticipation and drumming her nails against the dining table, always checking the time.

A watched clock ticks slower.

When it was almost four, she jotted a quick note to Tonks and Lupin, apologising for her absence when they woke up and promising to be careful. As a precaution, she charmed her hair a light blonde, a few shades darker than Draco's, and fixed her woolly scarf to veil the lower part her face, just below her nose.

With a final glance at that bloody clock, which read ten past four, she took a deep breath to ease the odd bundle of nerves in her stomach, and walked out the door. She padded across the dew-licked grass until she felt a shift in the air which indicated she had gone beyond the Wards, and then she Apparated.

.

.

Sleep was an evasive bastard.

There had been too many revelations in the last week. It was almost as if his body and brain were still trying to accept his separation from Hermione, and were too dented by the impact to really absorb this new environment and the people in it. Maybe he was simply rejecting this Granger-less reality.

He didn't know. It didn't matter.

Nevertheless, he had passively observed the routines and conduct of his old classmates and his Aunt, if only because there was hardly anything else to do. He had learned that this wasn't Andromeda's main residence but a safe house, and she was constantly returning to her home, usually with Bulstrode, who seemed to have quite a good relationship with his Aunt.

Davis and Bletchley were always in each other's shadow, lost in their own world. In the rare moments they emerged from their rooms for mealtimes and the like, they were rather affectionate, Tracey more so, but not to the point that it made Draco gag. Bletchley never rejected her, but he always had a protective rigidity to his posture that made the intensity of his feelings for the witch obvious.

Theo, was a different story. If Draco had been concerned that he was the only one having trouble with this bizarre situation, Theo was not in the same place as his companions. While the others seemed to have adapted rather well to the circumstances, Blaise had remarked how Theo had his good days, and his bad days. On no less than four occasions, Draco had heard him mumble something derogatory about Muggles and Muggle-borns, and Draco hadn't been able to decide if he'd felt uneasy or relieved.

He might not be able to utter the word 'Mudblood' anymore, but hearing the slur was eerily familiar, and there was the faintest trace of a response to it. He was still questioning. He was still undecided.

It was only when Ted Tonks had paid a visit two days ago that Draco had witnessed one of Theo's good days. Draco had purposely kept his distance, but he'd noticed that his Aunt's husband had a laid-back and affable presence that was difficult to dislike, and Theo had lost all the revulsion in his expression. They'd played Wizard's Chess like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The others had refrained from asking him any questions, and he had a feeling Blaise had something to do with that. Draco could see he had a silent control over the small group, absently studying everyone and everything with seemingly dull eyes, except when Lovegood was around. Draco was still trying to really grasp their bizarre relationship, but he could hardly comment considering his own attachment to Granger.

Blaise and Luna had that hushed sort of love that you only noticed if you were watching; entirely expressed with lingering touches and secretive smiles. They would quietly disappear in the evenings without a word or whisper, and on the days when Lovegood was elsewhere, Blaise would wear that distant look of a man who didn't know if his soul mate was coming home.

Draco only recognised it because a similar expression had haunted his mirror every morning.

Between Blaise and Luna and Andromeda and Ted, he was surrounded by taunting reminders of his own unconventional attachment to Hermione, and it all seemed so natural to them. Like breathing.

Judging from the inky hue of the sky, it was somewhere between four and five, and he was outside, perched on the stone steps at the front of the house. He was wearing the coat Granger had bought him, inhaling the faint remains of her scent, and flicking his wand every now and then to renew the Warming Charm that shielded him from the frosty chill.

There was little to do but think here, and his thoughts were always as turbulent as a storm-licked sea. Tonight was no different. He didn't hear the door opening.

"Good morning, precious," Theo's droll voice broke the peace, and Draco shot him a cold look as he settled on the step next to him. "And why aren't you tucked up in bed?"

"Probably the same reason as you," he said.

"Morning wood?"

In spite of himself, Draco exhaled a low chuckle. "Not quite. Just…too many thoughts to sleep."

"Oh, that," Theo nodded. "Yes, this is hardly the best place to catch up on your beauty sleep, Malfoy. I would say that it gets easier, but if that was true, I wouldn't be here talking to you at four in the morning."

"Brilliant."

Theo drummed his fingers against his shin. "So, you really defected then?"

"Would I be here if I hadn't?"

"Fair point," he conceded. "And how exactly do you explain your sudden tolerance for Muggle-borns? I saw that look you gave me when I said 'Mudblood' the other day."

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. "A lot has changed since we last spoke."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not right now," he shook his head. "How can I tell you my reasons when I don't completely understand them myself?"

Theo snorted and rolled his eyes. "That's just a poetic way of telling me to mind my own business."

"Then mind your own business," Draco shrugged. "Why are you being such a prick, Theo? We were mates once-

"Yes, but you said yourself, a lot has changed since we last spoke," said Theo, somewhat coldly. "Everyone has these little fucking secrets, and Blaise, Miles and Tracey are suddenly fine with Muggles. Fuck, even you-

"I'm not fine," he interrupted. "I am…confused, like you."

"And how would you know how I feel about all this?"

"I saw you with Ted, Theo. You don't hate him, and he's a Muggle-born."

Theo rubbed his hands together and dropped his gaze to his feet. "Ted's a good bloke," he started, his tone now and reluctant. "In my first week here, I downed some dark potion I'd nicked from my father. I was pissed off, and I just…wanted out."

Drcao snapped his eyes over to his companion. "You tried to top yourself?"

"I don't know," he said quietly, closing his eyes. "I knew the potion was dangerous but I was just so fucking angry. It basically started eating at my organs, and it bloody hurt. Ted found me, pumped my stomach, and stayed with me for six hours trying to heal the damage. I asked him not to tell anyone, and he didn't." He paused and cocked his head to the side. "I'd called him a Mudblood the day before."

The silence between them was that static kind that warned you not breathe first; thick with angst because no words would ever be appropriate to follow what Theo had confessed. Draco's brow wrinkled with his pensive frown, and he hesitantly lifted his hand and gave his old friend's back a firm pat of reassurance.

Theo cocked a cynical eyebrow. "If you're trying to hug me, I'll fucking backhand you."

"I wasn't going to hug you, wanker-

"Too right you weren't," he scowled. "Are we done with this unnecessary and pathetic discussion?"

"Apparently so," said Draco, frowning as Theo got to his feet and made to go inside. Huffing out an agitated breath, he tilted his head to call over his shoulder. "For what it's worth, Theo, I still consider you a mate."

"Should I do a little happy dance?"

"I'm just…If you need to vent, then you can, alright?" he offered flippantly. "I know how fucked up this all is. Believe me."

Theo hesitated, and Draco heard him clear his throat. "Noted," he mumbled, fumbling with the doorknob. "Likewise."

.

.

Hermione Apparated to St. James' Park.

She knew the area well, and was careful to ensure she wouldn't be noticed, choosing a small collection of trees near the corner of Horse Guards Road and The Mall. Piccadilly Circus was barely a ten minute walk from here, and she immediately broke into a swift power-walk, reciting her pre-planned route in her head for reassurance. The guttural vibrations of traffic and city sounds made her ears itch, and she bowed her head to avoid the eyes of the handful of people that she passed.

On any other day, she would have lingered to admire the elaborate architecture on Carlton House Terrace, but she barely spared the regal buildings a glance as she moved up Pall Mall. The stream of pedestrians was thicker as she moved deeper into London's heart, and she gripped her wand in her pocket, remembering Moody's advice.

Constant vigilance.

Moving up Waterloo Place and Regent Street, she squinted her eyes as the brash advertisements of Piccadilly Circus stained the pavements with reds, blues and greens, and then she saw the statue. She allowed herself a small sigh as she approached it with quickening strides, her eyes darting in every direction, searching for a flash of red hair or a glare of light bouncing off some spectacles.

As expected, there were people speckled around the area, meandering around each other or settled on the steps at the statue's base; European tourists with over-worked cameras, tipsy students who had lost their sleeping patterns, and a few busy professionals who were clearly struggling with deadlines. But no Harry or Ron.

She stopped walking and folded her arms to fight to the chill, studying the statue, and anxiously wondering if she had misinterpreted the letter. What if the boys had gotten her time of birth wrong? What if Hedwig had delivered the message on the wrong day? What if the letter had been intercepted, or had been a decoy, and she had just strolled straight into a trap like a bloody idiot?

She checked her watch. Twenty-five to five.

Punctuality had never been their strong point; hell, five minutes late was early for Harry and Ron, but risks breed doubts, and then paranoia sneaks up on your before you notice. She had almost made up her mind to abandon the whole plan, but something that felt like intuition crawled up her spine, and her eyes snapped to the side and locked on two figures marching in her direction.

The familiar, rusty tint of Weasley hair was absent; replaced with a deep brown shade. There were no glasses, black hair and been turned fair, and both faces had been altered slightly with different skin tones and missing freckles.

But she would have known them anywhere.

She was frozen for a second, but then she burst into a sprint, relieved tears prickling her eyes as she rushed towards them. They were running too, whipping around the late-night Londoners, and she lunged at them when they were close enough, wrapping her arms around two necks and relaxing into two pairs of awkwardly positioned arms. The trio stayed that way for a few peaceful moments, and then Hermione was ripping herself out of the familiar embrace and slapping her palms against their chests.

"OW!" Ron grumbled. "'Mione, what the-

"Don't you two ever leave like that again!" she snapped, batting away their hands. "I could bloody kill the pair of you-

"I told you she'd be angry," Harry mumbled with a slight grin.

"Too right I'm angry!" she scolded. "I haven't seen you in months-

"We missed you too," said Ron in warm tone, but Hermione avoided his attempt to drape an arm across her shoulders. He gave her a wounded look, and a pang of guilt hit her chest. "What's wrong, Hermione?"

"Nothing," she sighed, avoiding his eyes. "I just…it will be light soon. We should get going. Where have you been staying?"

Her two friends shared an uncertain look. "Well," Harry mumbled. "It's a long story, but we've kind of been moving around a lot. We thought areas away from the cities would be best, but we don't really know many. What was that forest you visited with your family?"

"The Forest of Dean," she supplied. "Yes, that's actually not a bad idea-

"But we need to get more supplies," Harry explained, gesturing to the rucksack hanging off his shoulder; the bag she had given him before he'd left, complete with an Undetectable Extension Charm. "The tent we had is falling apart and-

"I have a tent," she interrupted, patting her own charmed bag. "I have been collecting things I thought we might need since you two left-

"What about food?" Ron piped up with his rather predictable request. "We're running low-

"I have everything we need," she told them, frowning when she realised the morning was already beginning to lighten the sky. "Come on, we should go. Let's find somewhere to Apparate from."

"You're right, we should move," Harry nodded, and the three of them started to move down Shaftsbury Avenue. "Honestly, Hermione, we have so much to tell you. You wouldn't believe what's happened since we left you."

Hermione clenched her eyes shut for a moment and thought of Draco. "Yes," she murmured absently. "I have some rather unbelievable things to tell you myself."

.

.

Chapter 28, Part 2: Adapt.

.

A week later…

.

Draco rested his weight against the wall, his eyes fixed on his Aunt, who was clearly fighting back the tears.

Andromeda had told them yesterday that Ted was going on the run. They'd received an anonymous warning, possibly from the Order, that the Ministry had been informed of Ted's whereabouts, and it was only a matter of time before they came looking for him. Theo had been quick to react, and he had dented the wall with his fist, demanding to know why Ted couldn't remain with them in the safe-house. Ted had had to calm him down, explaining that if Voldemort's followers knew he was being concealed, they would probably conduct a thorough search, and there was a risk that their hideout would be discovered. If they knew he was on the run, they would hunt him, and any attention would be diverted.

To put it bluntly; Ted was putting his life on the line to help a group of teens he hardly knew. Theo had been right; Ted was a decent bloke.

That notion had stirred a sobering amount of respect within Draco for his affinal uncle, and suddenly, there was a second Muggle-born in the world who he didn't despise. And just like Hermione, this Muggle-born was being forced to disappear from his life too soon.

It was almost like fate was taking time out of her busy schedule, just to screw with his head. She would plant these people in his path that would make him forget all his birth-taught prejudices, and then she would just rip them away like flimsy poppy petals, and he was left sore with confusion.

Draco shifted his attention to his uncle, who was ruffling Davis's hair, and mumbling some parting words to Bletchley and Bulstrode. Beside Draco, Theo was rigid with tension; fists clenched and quaking slightly, and his teeth grinding behind his pursed lips. His eyes fell to Blaise and Lovegood, noting that their fingers were intertwined - almost hidden, except from Draco's angle - and Blaise was stroking absent-minded circles against the back of her hand. Their fingers disentangled as Ted approached them, and Lovegood fell into his warm hug with that familiar distracted smile of hers.

"Remember to stay away from unripe blueberries and mistletoe," she said as she pulled away. "You don't want to upset some nargles."

Draco arched an eyebrow, but resisted the urge to scoff at her comment.

"I'll do that," Ted replied with a fond smile, leaning forward to shake Blaise's hand. "Help Andromeda keep these lot in line while I'm gone."

"Of course," Blaise frowned. "Good luck, mate."

Draco straightened his spine when Ted turned to him next, nearing him with a serious expression that made Draco feel a little apprehensive and awkward.

"You look after my wife," Ted said in a hushed tone, so only they would hear. "Look after your Aunt, okay?"

Uncertain what to say, Draco slowly inhaled and simply nodded his head, and the small gesture seemed to be enough to appease his uncle. Shifting his weight with discomfort, he averted his eyes as Ted finally moved over to Theo, and Draco cocked his head so he could discreetly catch the hushed words of their conversation.

"…your temper, count to ten," Ted advised. "And just try to think before you speak-

"Yes, yes," Theo grumbled dismissively, and Draco didn't have to see him to know he was rolling his eyes. "Hug a Hufflepuff and all that bollocks-

"You are a good lad, Theo," Ted cut him off. "I can see that, 'Dromeda can see that, and all them here can see that. You need to have more faith in yourself."

"Whatever," Theo mumbled after a sigh and Draco glanced at them to find them shaking hands. "Just come back alive, alright?"

"Sure," Ted agreed casually. Too casually. And he gave Theo firm pat on the shoulder before he headed back towards Andromeda, pausing midway and scrutinising the silent inhabitants of the room with critical eyes. "Well, you lot look bloody miserable. You know, I'll be back before you even notice I've gone."

Nobody said a word for some slow and stretched seconds, and for some reason, Draco found himself staring at Blaise and Lovegood's rejoined hands. Just when the silence began to ring in their ears, Andromeda reached forward to tug on her husband's arm, and all the persistent optimism on his face drained away.

"Come on, love," she bade, her voice trembling slightly. "You have to go, and I would like to say my goodbyes."

"It's alright," Blaise spoke up. "We'll leave you-

"No, it's fine," Ted stopped him, taking Andromeda's elbow. "We'll go outside." He hesitated, and flashed the sullen Slytherin a final cheerful smile. "I'll see you all soon."

The moment the couple had left the room, there was a collective whisper of released breaths, and the prior silence was shattered as everything started to move again. Tracy was sniffing a little and doing a shoddy job at hiding it, and Miles led her out of the room, closely followed by Millicent. A moment later, Draco flinched when Theo abruptly pounded his fist into the wall and stormed out the door, spitting out a list of profanities as he went.

"Theo!" Blaise called after him, but all that responded was a few thuds of inanimate objects being hurled to the floor, and Blaise growled as he turned to Luna. "I'm going to make sure he doesn't do something stupid."

And then it was just Draco and Lovegood.

He focussed on his shoes and chewed his tongue, waiting for her to leave her seat and go after them, but she barely moved.

"You didn't shake his hand," Luna remarked in her usual dreamy tone.

"I barely knew the man."

"But you would have liked to," she said, and her blunt comment threw him for a moment.

He shot her a cold look. "What are you getting at, Lovegood?"

"Nothing. It was just an observation," she shrugged, and the distant snap of Apparition punctuated her words. "That will be Ted leaving."

"No shit-

"Maybe you should go and see if Andromeda needs anything-

"And what the fuck could I possibly offer her?" he spat defensively.

"Sometimes, another presence is all someone needs," Luna mumbled as she walked past him. "Even if it is a reluctant one."

Finally alone, Draco found himself waiting for, his aunt to return from outside, tapping his foot impatiently against the floorboards and contemplating whether he should bother at all. After five minutes of staring at the door, his curiosity, and perhaps something else, got the better of him, and he huffed out an agitated breath as he decided to see exactly what was keeping Andromeda.

He found her sitting on the stone steps at the front of the house; the steps he had routinely rested upon when everyone had retired to bed, and he had masochistically lost his mind to thoughts and memories of Granger. He could tell from the slight trembling of her shoulders and her bowed head that she was crying, and something that almost felt like empathy caught him completely off guard.

"What do you want, Draco?" she asked suddenly.

He licked his teeth and wondered what he had actually planned to accomplish from this, but his shoulders slumped in defeat, and the truth found him before he could reject it.

"I wanted to tell you that…perhaps you were right," he muttered, almost half-hoping she wouldn't hear him. "Perhaps you and I are not so different."

.

.

Hermione was reading the copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard that Dumbledore had left her in his will.

The story of the three brothers and their deal with death had become a favourite of hers, and melancholic legends and the white glow of her Lumos were good company at midnight while Harry and Ron slept. It was her turn to keep watch tonight, which suited her just fine. She had almost become paranoid that she would mumble Draco's name in her sleep when the nightmares ensnared her subconscious. She was also doing her best to avoid spending too much time alone with Ron, always making sure Harry was nearby or making excuses when he tried to initiate something that could lead to something beyond the realms of friendship.

Adapting to this new set of changes had been more difficult than she'd anticipated, despite the familiar company of Harry and Ron. Conversation had been a little awkward on her part, as she would over think everything she said, careful not to mention something that could somehow contain any hints of her time with Draco. For the most part, she had simply listened to the boys as they'd explained what had happened in her absence.

They had told her about their short stay at Grimmauld Place, and how they had established that R.A.B. had been Regulus Black's initials. They had described how a short interrogation with Kreacher had led them to Mundungus Fletcher, an original member of the Order who had turned to petty theft. A quick trip to Diagon Alley, and they had recovered the Horcrux, but they had struggled to find a method to destroy it, and the negative energy had caused some severe friction between her two best friends, although they had seemed hesitant to tell her what they had argued about.

They had decided to leave Grimmauld Place and had flitted between various locations when it became clear that Voldemort would eventually overthrow the Ministry. They had camped in woodland areas on the outskirts of the cities, occasionally returning to Grimmauld Place to search for any clues about a method to destroy the Locket. They'd been camping in Epping Forest when they'd discovered The Sword of Gryffindor, and her brow furrowed when she realised they'd never explained-

A twig snapped behind her, and she dropped the book and whipped around, her wand trained on her harmless target.

"Whoa," Harry whispered, holding up his hands. "It's just me, Hermione-

"Bloody hell, Harry, you made me jump," she breathed, lowering her wand as he came to sit beside her on the grass. "Everything okay?"

"It's fine. I just couldn't sleep. Thought I'd keep you company."

"Yes, of course," she nodded. "Actually, I was just thinking about something. You never said how you came across Gryffindor's Sword. How did you-

"My mother," Harry blurted, and Hermione watched an odd expression steal his face. "I know it sounds crazy, but just hear me out on this; a Patronus led me to it. And the Patronus was a doe. My mother's Patronus."

Hermione felt her heart sink as she recalled the night she had left Hogwarts; remembering the moment when she and McGonagall had been warned about the Ministry's fall by Snape's Patronus. A doe Patronus. A part of her contemplated if she should tell Harry about the secrets of their old Professor. After all, McGonagall had made it very clear that the information was not to be repeated, but it seemed too cruel to allow her best friend to clutch to some deluded belief that his mother was contacting him from the other side.

"Harry," she started with a grimace. "That wasn't your mother's Patronus-

"Look, I know how it sounds-

"No, Harry, just-

"But who else would have a doe Patronus who would lead me to-

"It was Snape," she rushed out, and Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. "I know it sounds bizarre, but when I was in Hogwarts, McGonagall told me that he's a spy for the Order-

"But he killed-

"I know," she sighed. "But it wasn't that simple. Dumbledore asked Snape to carry out the task so that…" she caught the emotion building in her voice as she prepared to say his name. "So that Draco's soul would be saved. I think there's more to it, but I know that Dumbledore asked Snape to kill him. Snape's been on our side all along."

Harry's expression flickered between shock and disbelief. "No," he mumbled, shaking his head. "That's impossible-

"Harry, I saw his Patronus," she carried on. "He sent it to warn us that the Death Eater's were coming to Hogwarts, and it was a doe-

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Harry exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. "Why the hell would Snape have the same Patronus as my mother?"

"I don't know," Hermione confessed wearily. "Perhaps it's just a coincidence-

"I need to get my head around this," he muttered to himself, turning away from her. "I need to think-

"Harry, I'm sorry-

"I just need some time alone," he said, taking a few steps in the opposite direction. "Just give me a moment, and then I need you tell me everything."

Hermione felt the guilt swallow her chest.

Not everything. Not about Draco. Not yet.

"Okay," she agreed. "Just don't go beyond the Wards, Harry."

The darkness sucked him in like hungry tar, and she was alone again, wondering what chaotic thoughts were stampeding through her friend's head right now. Merlin knew she had hardly taken the revelation about Snape's covert activities well all those months ago, and she began thinking of what she should say when he came to her for more details.

She dropped her troubled gaze and it landed on The Tales of Beedle the Bard, the wind flicking its pages like ghostly wind died down, and she concentrated on the small symbol scrawled on the displayed page; the triangle, the circle and the line. She'd noticed the odd mark a few times and never paid it much heed, but something had just…clicked. With a gasp leaving her lungs, she delved into her bag and rummaged for a book she'd read at Hogwarts.

And the words 'Deathly' and 'Hallows' were on the tip of her tongue.

Isolation Chapter 27: Truth

Chapter 27: Truth

Draco gawped at Luna Lovegood like she had just predicted the day he would die. The seemingly innocent blonde flicked her eyes from Blaise over to him, and she had a slight bend to her smile that suddenly seemed deliberate and intuitive, as though she had purged his mind and kept all his secrets for leverage. And then she blinked and turned her back to them, idly washing her hands in the sink and humming under her breath like the ditzy girl he'd always assumed she was.

He moved his baffled stare to Blaise, who was now wearing a subtle smirk and the telling look of a man who had answers. Draco frowned and risked a glance at Theo, expecting to see a similar expression of cocky recognition, but he looked just as confused as Draco felt.

"What are you on about, Lovegood?" Theo asked over his shoulder.

"Nothing," she replied breezily.

Theo arched a dark eyebrow. "Looks like she's having one of her funny turns again," he mumbled, and his head jolted forward when Blaise dealt him a firm smack to the base of his skull. "OW! What the hell-

"Mind your mouth," his friend warned quietly. "You're such a gobby prick-

"You need to gain a sense of humour, sunshine-

"I swear on Salazar's grave, Theo-

"I was going to start some of the washing," Luna announced, and again, Draco observed the clenched muscles in Blaise's face relax. "Would one of you mind helping me? I could do with an extra set of hands."

"Sorry, Lovegood," Theo shrugged, nodding his head at Draco. "We're in the middle of something-

"Theo, go and give Luna a hand," Blaise interrupted. "I want to talk to Malfoy alone."

"What? Why the hell should you-

"Because you're getting on my nerves and you might as well do something useful," he grumbled, tilting his head and catching Luna's eyes for a brief moment with an almost apologetic twitch of his lips. "I'm serious, Theo. Give me an hour and then you can hassle Malfoy all you like-

"But, Blaise-

"Theo, stop bitching like a first year Hufflepuff," he warned. "Either go and help Luna, or I'll have 'Dromeda confiscate your wand again."

Theo fired Blaise an irate glare and growled, smacking his palms down on the table and brusquely leaving his seat with a piercing screech of his chair and a muttered list of profanities under his breath. "One hour," he bit out, making his way towards the door. "And remind me to spit in your food later for being such a wanker. Come on, Lovegood."

"Why would you remind him to spit in your food?" Luna asked as she made to follow him. "Seems like a silly thing to say."

"He says a lot of shit," Blaise mumbled, reaching out to brush his fingers against her forearm before she slipped past. "If he behaves like a tosser; Petrify him, lock him in a cupboard or something, and I'll deal with it afterwards."

"Okay," she nodded with smiling eyes, and Draco almost choked on the air when she lifted a hand to gently touch Blaise's cheek. "You look a little stressed. Have some of that herbal tea I bought you."

"Maybe later," he agreed, his eyes lingering on Luna's back as she retreated out of the room. With the closing click of the door, his features quickly morphed back into a stern frown, and he met Draco with a cautionary stare. "Wipe that look off your face, Malfoy-

"You and Lovegood?" he blurted incredulously. "What the fuck was that?"

"It's none of your business unless I decide otherwise-

"But she's-

"Shut it," he snapped. "I'm not prepared to discuss the details of my relationship with Luna with you just yet-

"And if you knew I was in Hogwarts, then why ask me?"

"To see if you would tell the truth," Blaise said calmly, the words slow and deliberate. "Would you have told the truth?"

"Why should I?" he retorted. "You're not being honest with me-

"I have been nothing but honest with you, Malfoy. I told you we had defected-

"Yes, but you haven't explained why," he interrupted. "You haven't explained how you all got here. And what the hell is Lovegood doing here if this is a safe-house for people who have defected?"

Blaise rubbed his lips together with thought and released a long breath. "Luna's here because she and her father have been helping 'Dromeda to keep us hidden."

"Right, then what about you and the others?"

Another thoughtful pause. "Theo and I came here a few weeks after you went missing. Davis and Bulstrode had already been here a couple of weeks, and Bletchley came a few days after Theo and I-

"Yes, but how-

"Dumbledore approached me in sixth year when he saw me putting my fist through a window," he continued, smirking when Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Come on, Malfoy. Did you honestly think you were the only Slytherin Dumbledore was keeping an eye on? The world doesn't revolve around you, you know-

"What the fuck?" Draco scowled, clenching his fists until his knuckles clicked. "That doesn't make any sense. Last year you-

"Are you going to shut your gob and let me explain, or not?" Blaise snapped, waiting until Draco sat back in his seat before he resumed. "I didn't listen to Dumbledore straight away but…," he hesitated and cleared his throat. "But when I saw how fucked up you were after taking the Mark, I knew I didn't want to end up like you-

"Cheers, mate-

"So he asked me to keep an eye on you," he revealed in a measured tone. "He knew what you'd been told to do, and he'd hoped you would back out of your…mission, but he knew you were determined. That's why he left a couple of signs; hoping you would defect before it was too late-

"Signs?" Draco repeated. "What signs?"

"Who do you think asked Myrtle to talk to you in the toilets?" he remarked flippantly. "Did you think it was a coincidence that the Muggle-born ghost just always happened to be around? And why do you think Snape was always there to bail you out of trouble?"

"You're serious?" Draco breathed in shock, but he quickly veiled it with a snarl. "And I guess Theo was spying on me for Dumbledore too?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "After you took the Mark, all the Death Eaters started volunteering their kids too to boost numbers for You-Know-Who's army, and Theo's father jumped right on the bandwagon. When I found Theo having a breakdown in his room, I told him to see Dumbledore, but it took a lot of convincing-

"Hang on a minute," Draco mumbled absently. "You said you came here after I disappeared, but Dumbledore was dead-

"I was getting to that," Blaise cut him off. "A few days after you vanished, my village bike of a mother made Theo's dad husband number eight-

"What? You and Theo are step-brothers?"

"Technically, yes," Blaise nodded, rolling his heavy brown eyes. "But we reckon with my mother's track record as a seven-time widow, it won't last long. Anyway, Theo's father is a huge prick and elected both Theo and I to take the Mark. We did a runner and Dumbledore must have told McGonagall that he'd spoken to us because the Knight Bus took us to some house in Essex, and she was waiting for us. She brought us to 'Dromeda, and we've been here since."

"Bloody hell," he murmured. "But it's just you five? What about Crabbe and Goyle, or Pansy?"

"Crabbe and Goyle are doing the only thing they're good at; following orders," Blaise remarked with a hint of disgust. "They're probably bent over a desk right now and spreading their cheeks. As for Parkinson, the last I heard she had opted herself for the Mark and was helping her dear old Daddy with rounding up Muggle-borns."

Draco felt a surge of disappointment. His former classmates and lover had always been weak-willed - hell, that was what had initially made them such useful allies - but he was suddenly aware of how much the dynamics and circumstances had changed since he'd been in Hogwarts. "Bugger me," he whispered. "Pansy took the Mark?"

"Are you honestly that surprised?"

"No," he admitted after a moment, dropping his face into his hands and massaging his throbbing temple.. "This is all just…fucked up."

"You wanted the truth, so there it is," Blaise reminded him, leaning forward in his chair with intrigue. "So, now it's your turn to be honest."

"You already know I was at Hogwarts," Draco sighed, his voice muffled against his palms. "What else could you possibly want to know?"

"How about what you were doing with Hermione Granger on Christmas day by the Black Lake," he countered, his lips tilting into a very Slytherin smirk, and Draco's head snapped up so quick his neck cracked. "Oh yes. Luna mentioned that as well."

.

.

She'd needed to get of her room, and the kitchen felt less claustrophobic with its essential supply of coffee and biscuits, so she'd left Crookshanks snoozing on her bed and opted for the solitude that echoed off the tiles.

Hermione was hunched over the dining table, scanning the sentences with exhausted eyes and searching for something useful amongst the hectic mess of witness accounts and Auror statements from the First Wizarding War. Shacklebolt had managed to recover some old Ministry documents and restricted texts before Voldemort's infiltration, but endless hours of pouring over pages had proved futile thus far, and a volatile mixture of insomnia and heartache was making her fidgety and impatient. She was staring intently at the file between her elbows when a tear slipped past her lashes and kissed the parchment.

"Merlin, not again," she sighed to no one, lifting her fingers to rub her eyes until the friction started to agitate. "This is ridiculous."

The tears never really stopped; only subsided, and Hermione had learned three things in the last few days.

Firstly, it was better to tolerate the damaging effects of sleep-deprivation than to confront the nightmare she'd had on her first night alone; an exact replay of her final moments with Draco, except when she'd pulled away from their one-sided kiss, there'd been blood crawling down his chin, and she'd woken up screaming, retching and convinced she could taste iron against her tongue.

Secondly, the line between dedication and obsession is precariously thin. She had almost become dependent on her determination to help the Order, and a little voice in her head warned that if she put down the books, it would all become too real, and she might not handle it as well as everyone expected her to. She surrounded herself with her work, coating the walls in her borrowed room with notes she had scribbled, and only pausing to eat, nap or practice some defensive spells with Moody or Lupin. The world around her was blurred and muffled, and that was how she needed it right now. Distraction would keep her grounded; keep her sane.

And lastly, sometimes it was irrelevant how hard she focussed on her tasks. Random flashbacks - be them blissful memories or disturbing ones - penetrated her concentration without regard almost hourly, always leaving her dizzy and trembling ever so slightly. The moment would pass, she would berate herself for allowing her attention to waver, and then she would get on with life, dreading the next one. They seemed to harass her most in the shower, sometimes so vivid that the steam seemed to whisper with Draco's voice, but she had taken to having the water ice cold so her senses were on edge and she would be alert enough to snap out of it.

For the most part, she had managed to keep her composure, but every now and then, an inconvenient tear would splash against her books, like now, but she would hide it before anyone would notice.

Vulnerability was not her colour.

"Hermione," Tonks' warm voice made her start. "Please don't tell me you've been up all night."

"No," she lied automatically, stealing a glance at the clock. It was almost eight, and she wondered where the last four hours had gone. She hadn't even noticed the morning birds or the faint glow of the sun. "I just woke up early."

"If you say so," Tonks mumbled, obviously unconvinced as she slumped into the opposite chair with a little difficulty. "I think the baby has actually figured out a way to squeeze my bladder."

Hermione cracked a smile, but it was strained. "Do you want me to make you some breakfast or something?"

"No, I'll wait until Remus wakes up," she said. "Any luck with those files from the Ministry?"

"Nothing really, but I'm not really sure what I'm looking for. Just some clue about the Horcruxes, I guess."

"I'll give you a hand after we've had some food," she offered, and then she fixed the younger witch with a reassuring look. "He'll be okay, you know."

Hermione felt her heartbeats hesitate, and her stomach did a nervous flip. "What?" she asked in a croaky voice. "Who will be okay?"

"Whoever it is you're missing," Tonks said as though it was obvious. "I'm guessing it's the boy you mentioned when I visited you before Christmas?"

"I'm fine, Tonks," Hermione mumbled, dropping her eyes back to the book. "I just miss Harry and Ron-

"You've barely talked sine you've been here, and I recognise that look of girl missing her-

"I'm really fine," she interrupted quickly. Almost frantically. "I just…I need to concentrate on this right now, and I can't-

"If you want to talk about him, you can talk to me," Tonks pushed, frowning when Hermione shook her head. "You know, you need to have a break every now and then or you'll drive yourself mad-

"Tonks, please," she tried. "Don't."

"Just one question, and I'll drop the subject," Tonks insisted. "If you answer honestly, I promise I won't mention him again."

Huffing out a frustrated sigh and combing her hair away from her face, Hermione hesitantly tipped her head in agreement. "Fine. One question, but that's it."

"Okay," she said gently, taking her time. "Does he love you back?"

And Hermione closed her eyes so Tonks wouldn't see her torment. The tears were back and burning the backs of her lids, but she'd be damned if she let one slide down her cheek.

"I honestly have no idea."

.

.

"Granger," Draco echoed her name before he could help it, because it just didn't sound right coming from Blaise's mouth. A sudden headache pounded behind his eyes and he clenched them shut, forgetting to keep his expression trained with indifference.

"Then I guessed right," his companion remarked smugly. "You were fucking her."

The thud of Draco's fist against the table sent a glass tumbling to the floor, and Blaise warily shifted in his seat. "Don't talk about her like that," Draco hissed between his bared teeth. "I'm warning you, Zabini."

Blaise had the decency to look slight taken aback. "So, it was more than fucking," he mumbled, ignoring Draco's incensed glare. "You like her-

"Zabini, I swear to Merlin-

"Calm down, Malfoy," he said. "There's no reason to get so defensive. Luna had her suspicions. Hell, I owe her five Galleons now-

"Bollocks," he scoffed. "Since when is Loony Lovegood observant?"

"You'd be surprised," Blaise replied with a subtle grin. "So are you going to tell me what happened between you and Granger? Or would you prefer I jump to conclusions?"

"I'd prefer you minded your own sodding business," Draco spat, his body beginning to vibrate as he became more infuriated. "It has nothing to do with you."

"Malfoy," he breathed impatiently. "I am trying to do you a favour. If your views on Muggle-borns have changed because of Granger, like I reckon they have, then I might be able to trust you, and that would make your situation a lot easier."

Draco narrowed his eyes into suspicious slits. "And how exactly do you feel about Muggle-borns now, Blaise? You hated them just as much as I did-

"No I didn't," he argued quickly. "Did you ever hear me use the word, 'Mudblood?' And the only step-dad who didn't treat me like shit was a half-blood with a Muggle mother. I met her back and fifth year and she was nice as hell-

"But you called people blood traitors and-

"It's all semantics," he said flippantly. "I just repeated what you lot did. I didn't even know what Mudblood meant until you said it to Granger in second year." Blaise paused to watch Draco cringe at that comment. "Which brings us back to the very interesting present; you and Granger."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he snarled quietly, tapping his finger against the table with frustration.

"Maybe a little bit," Blaise smirked. "Irony tastes good in the morning-

"Fuck you, Zabini. It's not a joke-

"Well, if you would stop being so bloody secretive, perhaps I might take it more seriously-

"No, you wouldn't!" Draco barked loudly, sucking in a sharp breath. "You just…You wouldn't fucking get it, Blaise!"

"Oh really?" he challenged. "In case you missed it, I am romantically involved with Luna bloody Lovegood. You know, the girl we tortured in Hogwarts, and a loyal supporter of the Order. If there's anyone who's going to understand, it's me, Draco, so you might as well just-

"YES! FINE!" he yelled, springing up from his chair and pacing a few steps away so he wouldn't have to look at Blaise. "Whatever the hell is going on between you and Lovegood, Granger and I are in the same boat! Wait, fuck that! We WERE in the same boat! But now I'm here and I don't know where the hell she is, and I don't know WHAT THE FUCK TO DO!"

He froze where he stood, forcing tension into his limbs to stop them shaking, and trying to steady his heaving chest. The heat of his temper was simmering under his skin, and he shook his head, feeling that same destructive sense of helplessness from the night Hermione had left. He could feel Blaise's eyes studying him, but he refused to meet them, transfixed on a crack in the wall and not trusting himself to move.

"She was the only thing made sense," he murmured before he could think, doubting Blaise would even hear him. "And now she's gone, there is…nothing. Nothing that makes sense." He glanced at his silent companion and knew that he'd heard every word. "Go on then, Zabini. Say what whatever you're going to say."

Blaise stayed still for a moment, his expression impassive, before he slowly nodded his head with something between satisfaction and approval. "Welcome to 'The Enlightened,'" he said evenly. "Sit back down, Draco. We're going to have a coffee, and you look like you could do with something to eat."

"That's it?" he questioned sceptically.

"I've heard what I needed to hear," Blaise shrugged. "If you want to tell me more, you can, but I just wanted to be certain that your being here is justified and safe."

Draco cocked a brow and hesitantly retook his seat. "Will you tell the others?"

"That you're in love with Granger? No-

"I never said I was in love with her," he retorted hastily. "I never used that bloody word-

"So you don't love her?"

"I…" he started uncertainly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I am not even going to dignify that with a response. What would you say if I asked if you loved Lovegood?"

"I would say I do," Blaise answered without a flinch, and Draco's jaw sagged with disbelief. "So what?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Malfoy, in case you haven't noticed we're in the middle of a war," he said with a slight flicker of dread. "We could all die tomorrow, and Luna deserves to know she isn't just some shag-buddy to pass the time. Aside from that, I don't give a flying fuck what anyone thinks, and that includes you. So, if you didn't tell Granger how you really felt, then more fool you, because I hate to break it to you, Malfoy, but you might never see her again."

And although it didn't show on his face, Blaise's words stabbed at Draco's chest like splinters, and he felt sick to his stomach as a crushing wave of regret stuck him. "I will see her again," he disputed, but the doubt was so obvious in his voice. "I will."

Blaise exhaled and regarded Draco with half-lidded eyes. "For your sake, I hope you're right."

.

.

Four days before Valentine's Day and her eighth day away from Draco, and Hermione was back in the bedroom with her pile of books and her shadow for company. A gruelling three-hour session on defensive spells with May-eye had left her sore and fatigued, but the day had just drifted into tomorrow, and midnight had become her favourite time to work. Everyone went to bed, and she was left undisturbed for at least eight hours, save the moments when Crookshanks would crawl into her lap for a little attention. She could also think about Draco and not feel too guilty about it, or worry that Lupin and Tonks might notice a stray tear or the quivering of her bottom lip.

She found herself daydreaming of ice-skating and window-seats, and she was just about to collect her things and head down to the kitchen for her caffeine fix when she heard a faint tapping against the window pane. When she saw the moonlight reflect off snowy white feathers, she shot out of her chair and scrambled over to the window, desperately fumbling with the latch. Hedwig dropped a letter into Hermione's hands and swiftly departed before the witch could even blink. She tore open the envelope with frantic fingers and read the ten roughly scribbled words in Harry's handwriting once, twice, and three times just to ensure she hadn't missed anything.

The Angel in the Circus. The time you were born.

And she knew exactly where she had to go.