Produces confusion.

her until dinner. Before he left, Hermione made him remove the Muffliato charm so that she could hear the conversation outside. Just hearing his voice calmed her down - the next best option if she couldn't be by his side.

"Oi, Draco."

Theo. Hermione had quickly learnt to identify her three neighbours. Their voices were vaguely familiar – vaguely, but she had been tortured so much she couldn't remember clearly anymore.

"You up for a drink tonight? I'll even introduce you to some of my favourite slags."

"Theo, could you not make it sound as though you run an illegal brothel?" Blaise. Hermione was quick to deduce that he was more or less the father figure in this household, even though from what little she could remember, Blaise was not much older than she was. "And Draco's probably going to wallow in his room, right, mate?"

"Zabini one, Nott zero."

"Alright, I got it. Just don't be too hard up on yourself, mate, you know that girl was dead either way."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Theo – " A girl's voice this time - Pansy.

"What? We're all thinking the same thing. If it wasn't Draco, then it'd be any of us. Probably me – I'd have to drag her down to the cell and use the Cruciatus on – "

"Shut up, Theo." Draco's voice was deadly. A harsh scrape of chair legs against the floor, then Hermione heard his footsteps just beyond the door.

"Are you happy now, Theo?" Pansy sounded exasperated.

"What? What did I say – "

Theo's voice faded out as the door opened. She looked up as Draco stepped back in, a plate of food in one hand. He placed it down on the table and made to move towards her, before he stopped. His silver eyes seemed shuttered under the moonlight that bled through the windows. "Granger, I – "

And then there were simply no words, because how could you excuse yourself when you murdered in cold blood?

Hermione jerked alert at the tone of his voice. She studied his side profile for a moment, soaking in his defined features, the high cheekbones and straight nose, the dim light from outside casting beautiful shadows against his face.

Carefully, Hermione stole closer to him. She held her breath as she shifted up on her knees and reached for him. Not the sleeve of his jumper this time, but his face. She let her palm settle against his skin, felt his warmth beneath her fingertips. She watched as his eyelids fluttered shut and he seemed to lean into her touch involuntarily, letting out a heavy breath as he did.

"You are a good person," she whispered. "I believe that."

Draco's eyes opened and she wanted to cry because they seemed so empty. "I'm not. None of us here are. What Theo said – " he swallowed, the next words seemed so painful to get out. " – that was true; we do use the Cruciatus curse. We use every Unforgivable curse, Granger, and we use it on a daily basis."

Hermione faltered. "What Theo said – about the Cruciatus – "

"Not on you." Draco met her gaze squarely. "Never on you."

Hermione felt a wave of relief wash over her. She could live with that. She could live with four Death-Eaters who used the Unforgivables on a daily basis, because they had never and would never use it to hurt her. The war had dragged on for so long and she knew there were too many shades of grey to simply dismiss anyone and everyone who did something bad.

Draco resided in the darkest shade of grey but to her, he had always been good. Not from the moment they met, of course – in the haziest recesses of her memory, she remembered a snooty good-looking blond haired boy who taunted her and tormented her during her school days. But he'd grown and matured exponentially since then and during her days in captivity, his was the face that she held on to.

Draco was the thread that linked her to sanity.

"It's alright," Hermione spoke slowly, trying to keep her phrases strung together cleanly, without stumbling on her words. "Draco." His eyes flickered to hers and she smiled softly. "Whether in my dreams, or in real life, you are always, always good. Never forget that."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco woke when Hermione had another nightmare that night. Fortunately, the charms held and her screams were confined to their room.

"No, please, don't – "

He grasped onto her hand - still intertwined with his in spite of her struggling, and reached forward to cup her cheek with his other palm. "Granger."

"Please, I'll tell you anything – anything you want, I just cannot, not right now, I cannot remember, please, please, don't – "

Draco stared down at her with fear in his eyes. Hermione was completely coherent in her dreams, her usual stuttering fazed out, and she sounded so much, so much like the girl he had heard when Bellatrix carved the word Mudblood on her skin. Back when she was still lucid and focused on her mission with Potter and the fucking Weasel.

But what had happened along the way?

He had his suspicions. She'd endured so many months of torture that even Bellatrix's scar had faded amidst fresher ones. Had months of the Cruciatus curse wiped out her memory completely?

He snapped back to attention when Hermione aimed a particularly nasty punch to his chest. "Granger." He gripped her shoulders to shake her. "Wake up!"

"Please, please don't, I'm begging you – "

"Granger!"

Hermione's eyes fluttered open. Her breathing slowed and the expression on her face became lucid as her eyes locked onto him. "Draco?"

"I'm here."

Her lips curled into a weak smile. "Thank Merlin." Her hands slid up, and he stiffened when she cupped his cheeks. He felt an uncontrollable spasm in his lower abdomen as she sighed softly, her breath tickling his skin, and she stroked his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. "I – "

"Sleep, Granger."

She nodded. He couldn't quite stifle the pang of disappointment when she pulled away. But her fingers laced through his again and she pulled his hand to her chest, curling up in foetal position to face him. A tiny smile flit across her lips as she caught him watching her and, with a sigh, she finally closed her eyes.

Sweet dreams, Granger.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco kept his eyes and ears alert for any signals that Granger's missing presence had been noticed. But there was none. He figured just as much. He didn't know who Granger's abductors were – he'd never managed to figure it out, even after three years – but he knew for a fact that the Dark Lord hadn't a clue, and so this was probably an illegal job. The Dark Lord would have their heads if he knew that they had kept and tortured Granger without letting him know. Without letting Draco know.

The bloody nerve of those bastards.

Anger swept through him and it became easier to hurl another Cruciatus at the man writhing on the ground. Maximus Langton was yet another Death-Eater gone rogue to join the rebellion, but he'd been stupid enough to get caught.

Sodding Gryffindors with their tenacity and hero complexes. It never worked out well in a war.

"Please stop," rasped one of the other prisoners. The man was old, his eyes wide and delirious, reminding Draco too much of Hermione. "I - I'll tell you everything you need to know."

It was the worst thing the man could've said. Torturing rogues like Maximus was part of Draco's job as a Death-Eater. But when it came to traitors like this old man who spilled secrets about the Order to Death-Eaters?

Draco's eyes narrowed and he flicked a glance at his friend, who had been leaning against the nearby wall, watching with impassive disinterest. "Theo?"

Theo straightened and gave him a subtle nod. "Always so many interruptions," muttered Theo, as he strode across the room and turned his wand on the old man. "Incarcerous."

Tight ropes slid around the man to squeeze the life out of him. With another flick of the wand, Theo dragged the shrieking man down the hallway, where they disappeared out of sight.

Moments later, the cries stopped. And Draco felt the phial against his chest burn.

Draco let his grey eyes sweep across the room, landing severely on each and every one of the prisoners. "You see what happens when you speak out of turn? Or," he directed his wand at Maximus. Impedimenta. Legilimens. Avada Kedevra. The routine was always the same, and Maximus fell dead at his feet, his lifeless eyes still wide open. "What happens when you don't fucking speak at all."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

By lunchtime, the Slytherins were back in the flat. Pansy tossed a phial each to Draco and Theo for them to leave the prisoners' memories in, then sat on the counter next to her boyfriend.

"We're running out of phials, by the way," she told Blaise. "Murtlap tentacles and Star Grass too."

Draco stiffened. Those ingredients had been used to make healing potions for Hermione. And if anyone found that out...

Blaise's eyebrows rose. "Since when?"

"Don't know. Only noticed when I checked the kitchen yesterday. Who's been using those?"

It was fortunate that Blaise and Pansy had their backs to Draco. Draco caught Theo's eye from across the room and gave a subtle nod. Theo immediately assumed a nonchalant expression and steepled his fingers. "Me."

"Well, then, it's on you," said Blaise. "I'll expect the money on the counter by tomorrow."

Theo groaned and tossed the phial back to Pansy. "I thought we were a family and family shares everything."

"What family?"

Theo ignored Pansy's deadly voice and smirked. "You know – you're the mum, Blaise's the dad, Draco's the rebellious kid who locks himself in the room all day to wank – "

"Fuck you, Theo."

" – and I'm the good-looking, intelligent kid that mum and dad are so proud of."

There was a silence. And then –

"Did you actually call me a mum?" Pansy shrieked. "Do I look like a mum to you?"

"You're grounded, Theo." Blaise seemed more amused than anything. "Go to your bloody room and don't come out."

"No, that's what Draco does," Theo said, with exaggerated patience.

Draco flipped him off and headed back to his room, hearing his friends' sniggers echo after him. One minute longer in their presence and he was going to get a bloody headache.

He barely had the chance to shut the door when he felt Hermione hurl herself into his arms. He caught a whiff of his shampoo from her hair and caught her before her knees could buckle. She was still weak at times, and he steadied his arms around her waist.

"I knew you'd come back," she whispered, as she buried her face against his chest. Her fingers tightened around the lapels of his suit, but she wasn't crying this time.

He wondered if she was getting better without him. He wondered why he didn't feel any better knowing that she was.

He kept one arm around her waist and held out his other hand. "Do you still have it?"

She smiled and opened her hand. The phial's edges had made red markings on her palm – a clear indication that she'd been holding it too tightly. "I would never lose it."

"Good." He slipped his arm under her knees and lifted her quickly. After laying her back down on his bed, Draco sank into the chair and let her take his hand.

"Draco?"

He met her wide brown eyes and upturned lips and, for a moment, saw the old Hermione Granger staring back at him. "Yeah?"

She struggled to sit up and he waved his wand to soothe her ribs when she winced. "Why do the phials glow?"

He froze.

"There...there was a message earlier." She scrunched her nose in deep thought, and he could almost see the gears whirring in her head. Rusty as they were, he was glad to see them at work again. "Is that a – a secret message?"

Those bloody phials.

He should've just charmed another object. That would raise far fewer questions. But he didn't want to be the only one who knew of Hermione's existence. If she ever found herself in danger, lighting the phial would alert not only him – but Theo, Blaise, Pansy and even Andromeda. If ever he was unable to come to her aid, she would always have the other four.

Just in case.

"I can't tell you what it means," he said at last. He looked anywhere but at her. Still, he could feel the disappointment in her gaze, and he felt like a right tosser to dismiss what little she had learnt. "It's not that I don't want to. It's just safer that way."

"Do – do Pansy and Blaise and Theo..."

"Yes." He tightened his grip on her hand when she began to look away. "Granger, listen to me. The more you know, the more danger you're in. It's why you were tortured."

Her eyes flew to his in horror. "What?"

"I'm not too sure, but I have a hunch that it was because you knew too much. Especially about the Order."

Her eyes widened. And his worst fears were confirmed when she said the words that were a culmination of every Cruciatus curse she ever had to endure.

"What's the Order?"