So, first-time readers—enjoy the ride. And re-readers—welcome home.

x Noelle

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Unlocking charm.

that night, he paused at the sight of Blaise sitting alone in the living room. His friend was drinking – an unusual sight since he was the least inclined among them to drown his sorrows in alcohol.

Blaise glanced up, noticed Draco, and set the bottle down. "Hey, mate. Join me?"

Draco nodded and sat down in the chair opposite him. "Where're the other two?"

"Theodore went to call on one of his slags again," Blaise returned dismissively, before gesturing vaguely to Draco's room. "And Pansy's in there with Hermione."

Draco froze. "So you – "

" – found her? Yeah. I went in to borrow a book from you and found her hiding under the bed. By the way, you should really change those locks on your door."

"It's fucking pointless; the three of you would stand in front of my door puzzling over the locks until you figure them out."

Blaise grinned. So his suspicions had been right after all. He was certain that Draco knew all the locks on their door as well, but he just didn't barge in whenever he liked. Then his smile faded when he remembered what he'd seen earlier.

"I viewed her memories," he said, at last. Draco's eyes flew to his, the expression in them cold, and Blaise steeled himself. "She told Pansy I could."

"How bad were they?"

"You haven't seen it?" When Draco shook his head, Blaise frowned. "Aren't you even the slightest bit curious?"

"Of course I am. It's just – " Draco shut his eyes for a brief moment. " – I don't know if I want to see them. I don't know if I want her to tell me either. I – I don't know if I want to risk knowing."

"Because of the guilt," Blaise guessed. "You're terrified to know what happened to her during all those years you couldn't find her. But it's not your fault, mate. You tried. We all did."

Draco looked at him in surprise.

Blaise chuckled. "You think I didn't notice? Draco, for years, you told us that our task was to search for informants. Pansy and Theo may have bought whatever bullshit you fed them, but I never did. If searching for informants was really to help the Order, then they would've been fighting back by now. Instead, all we did was prevent the Dark Lord from knowing anything about the Order. So I figured that you were trying to get information to find someone. Didn't know it was Hermione Granger, though."

Draco sighed. "Sorry for wasting your time."

"Don't apologise, mate, you did the right thing. Finding Hermione is the best thing that could happen for the Order. That way, she can go back to Potter and Weasley. Maybe give them hope and some fighting spirit."

Draco didn't reply. The silence stretched long and thin between them, and Blaise smiled.

"You don't want her to go back to the Order, do you?"

"She's not in good shape, Zabini. She can barely recall anything about the Order."

"I figured. But Pansy and I agree on one thing. We think that Hermione should go back to the Order. We're selfish that way – we want...no, need the war to end. And if bringing Hermione back is the way to do it, then we're placing our bets on her. Anything to help her get better."

"You think I don't want that?" Draco ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I want her to get better! But if it comes at the price of putting her life in danger – "

"I didn't say that we want her to fight for the Order. I've seen what she's been through." Blaise dragged in a sharp breath. "I'm with you on that. She needs to stay out of the battlefield."

Draco started to reply, but Pansy stepped out of his room. She shut the door and placed a muffling charm, before heading towards them.

"She's been worrying about you," Pansy said to Draco. "She wants to know if your ankle's better. You should go in."

Draco immediately got up. But before he could leave, Blaise's voice cut through the silence.

"Draco."

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. The expression on Blaise's face was sombre.

"Are you really afraid of her going back to the Order, or are you afraid of her remembering everything about her friends and then forgetting everything about you?"

Draco didn't answer. Without a backward glance, he slipped back into his room and shut the door behind him.

Pansy turned to Blaise. "So did you notice?"

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "That Draco fancies Hermione."

Blaise smirked. "I don't think fancy's a proper word for it anymore. Works both ways, too."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco found Hermione waiting anxiously for him in the room. She immediately clambered out of bed and headed towards him.

"Are you feeling better?" He froze when she reached for him, her fingers curling around the sleeve of his jacket. "Does your ankle still hurt? Or your ribs?"

"I'm fine, Granger." Pulling away from her, he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the back of the chair. "You should be sleeping."

Hermione looked equal parts confused and sad. "I-I was waiting for you."

"You shouldn't wait up for me in the future."

Merlin, he felt like such a prick. But Blaise had hit the nail on the head earlier. Draco was terrified that when Hermione recalled the past, she'd no longer look at him the same way she did now, because there were just so many better people in her life before.

Even saint Potter and that fucking Weasel.

Blaise was right, he was terrified and he was already in too deep not to be scared shitless that she was going to leave someday, that she would move on and he'd be stuck in this shithole for all eternity. The least he could do was to save her before she spiralled down the same destructive path that he was lying at the bottom of.

"Draco?" Her voice drew him out from his thoughts and he glanced over at her. "Did I...did I do something wrong?"

"No," he returned bluntly. Settling down on the armchair, he grabbed the phial of sleeping draught and handed it to her. "Go to sleep."

Hermoine sighed, but she ignored the sleeping draught as she crawled under the covers. Her hand automatically reached for his, but when she realised that his arms were firmly folded on his lap, she recoiled and laid her hand back down on the bed.

She stared up at him. "W-will you stay?"

"Sleep, Granger."

Reluctantly, she closed her eyes and pretended to go to sleep. Hardly ten minutes later, he got up, picked up his jacket and left the room.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

All the Death-Eaters were present at Malfoy Manor the following afternoon. Draco waited beside the Dark Lord, watching as the prisoners that had been freed from Azkaban trickled into the hall. Only Purebloods were admitted, while the rest incarcerated in the other bases.

"They're late," hissed Yaxley, who sat two spots away from the other side of the Dark Lord, right after Dolohov and MacNair.

"It hasn't escaped my notice, Yaxley," the Dark Lord returned with faint irritation.

Draco let out a short bark of laughter when Yaxley flushed. "My lord," Draco started, "I suggest we close the doors. It's obvious to see that some of the prisoners are ungrateful swines who couldn't care less about loyalty. We don't need them fighting our cause. Let them burn in the crossfire."

The Dark Lord nodded and turned to one of the other Death-Eaters. "Shut the doors."

"Yes, my lord."

The Death-Eater waved the doors shut. The sudden noise was enough to startle the prisoners into silence. Some looked terrified while others squirmed with unease. The Dark Lord's lips curled in a grotesque smile.

"Welcome," the Dark Lord began, with a general nod in their direction. "I'm sure you've all heard of me."

All of them nodded. Some looked deathly terrified, while others squirmed with unease. The occasional few still seemed disoriented after their stint in Azkaban, their eyes wide and almost delirious.

"I see you've met some of my Death-Eaters who helped you escaped two days ago," the Dark Lord gestured to the two on his left – Draco and Bellatrix. Draco simply smirked lazily at them, while Bellatrix let out a cackle of laughter. "In return, all I'm asking for is your allegiance to our cause. If you would like to join our circle, you may remain behind. If you leave, of course, I can assure you that your survival will not be for long. This is a war. And if you are not with us, then by definition you are against us."

The room was silent.

The Dark Lord turned to the snatchers standing behind him, with Fenrir Greyback leading the group. "Bring them to the hall. You know what to do if they don't comply."

"Yes, my lord," Greyback responded.

When the last of the prisoners had been herded out of the room, the Dark Lord turned to MacNair. "What's next on our agenda?"

The Death-Eater straightened in his seat. "The Rebellion, my lord. There are three meeting places and I have them mapped out. Their headquarters lie several miles from Hogwarts, but in all likelihood, the wards are tight and there will be more people."

"My lord, I can take down the headquarters," Dolohov said. Draco noticed that he looked haggard and his eyes were bloodshot. Azkaban definitely hadn't been kind to him. "I will go tonight, with – "

"Draco," the Dark Lord turned to the other side instead. "You will bring your group to take down the headquarters."

Draco smirked at Dolohov's annoyance. "My lord, I suggest that we take all three places down in a single night. And, if you will allow it, I would like to select new members for my team."

The Dark Lord nodded.

Draco immediately turned to Bellatrix. He hated her, but she was one of his safest bets. At least he knew she was never going to stab him in the back, both metaphorically and literally. And she always got the job done, in her sick, twisted way.

"Auntie dearest," he drawled, "care to join my side again?"

Bellatrix grinned. "With pleasure, Draco."

"You and your husband will join me on this mission," Draco said, nodding at Rodolphus Lestrange who sat beside her. His eyes roved the table. "Crabbe senior, Goyle senior, Scabior, Alecto Carrow, Malcolm Braddock, Maisie Donalds and Blaise Zabini. Ten this time. One more from the previous nine. We should succeed this time round, don't you think?" Draco winked at MacNair, who scowled.

When the meeting was over, the Dark Lord sent the other Death-Eaters out. Upon MacNair's request, they were to pick new members to join the inner circle. Only Draco and Bellatrix remained behind.

Draco didn't quite mind. Over the years, he had become extremely skilled at Legilimency. If Bellatrix showed the slightest signs of betrayal, he'd detect it immediately. Her fanatic loyalty to the Dark Lord also made it quite implausible that she'd actually be a traitor.

"I can see what you mean about MacNair, Draco." The Dark Lord's eyes were narrowed as he stared at the crowd outside. "He is far too insistent about expanding the inner circle."

"That's why we must always be on our guard." Draco reached into his pocket and drew out a box. There were six phials inside, each marked with Pansy's nondescript handwriting. "These phials contain memories of Theodore Nott, Graham Pritchard, Guthrie Rhodes, Malcolm Braddock, Maisie Donalds and Pansy Parkinson respectively," he started, deliberately leaving out the fact that the memories were duplicates of the original copies Pansy had stored in their inventory. "I used Legilimency on them during the mission at Azkaban. They're all trustworthy members, except for Graham Pritchard, who was under the Imperius Curse."

Bellatrix's lips curled in disgust, while the Dark Lord looked annoyed.

"He was put under the curse by Yaxley, so that's another Death-Eater to look out for. In the meantime, I've lifted the curse and modified Pritchard's memories to make it seem like Yaxley tried to murder him, so that Pritchard will always be on his guard. I'll be testing the others during the next mission, while I've picked Braddock, Donalds and Bellatrix again." Draco gestured to his Aunt. "Because they're members I can trust."

"Quite a thorough system you have there, Draco." The Dark Lord picked up the box and clasped Draco on the shoulder. Draco fought the chill that raced down his spine. "You and Bellatrix may take your leave first, while I see to the prisoners."

Draco waited until the Dark Lord had left before heading towards the nearest exit. To his annoyance, Bellatrix followed.

"The Dark Lord is very pleased with you, Draco," she said. "You've done the family name proud. In fact, you are far better than your worthless parents."

Draco stilled. "Don't remind me of them."

"Cissy was a traitor," Bellatrix spat. "And Lucius – Lucius was weak. The most cowardly, pathetic Death-Eater there ever was."

Fury welled up in Draco until he felt nothing but anger coursing through his veins.

"But you, you turned out wonderfully," Bellatrix continued. "A little rough around the edges and bit of a weakling at first, but that was because your parents were so messed up. Now you've grown up and I think you have more of my blood in you than either of your parents'."

Draco felt the bile rise in his throat. His jaw tightened and he nodded. "Thank Merlin for that."

Before Bellatrix could say anything else, he took a step forward and apparated away.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione had almost drifted off to sleep when Draco stumbled into the room. His silver eyes were angry and he ignored her, heading straight for the bathroom.

Her eyes widened and she sat up. "Draco?"

"Go back to sleep, Granger."

She pulled back the covers and climbed off the bed. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fucking fine, just piss off."

The bathroom door slammed shut. Hermione hovered outside. It was quiet within, until a sudden shattering sound made her flinch.

"Draco?"

He didn't respond.

Worried, she grabbed her wand off the dresser. She scanned the books on the shelves before landing on a familiar red one. After retrieving it, she flipped the pages and did a quick test motion with her wand. Then she hurried back to the bathroom and aimed her wand at the lock.

"Alohomora."

The door stayed shut. Hermione gripped her wand firmly and took a deep breath.

"Alohomora."

To her greatest relief and surprise, the lock came undone with a click. She quickly pushed the door open, only to inhale sharply when she saw the shattered glass on the floor from one of the cups that Draco had presumably hurled against the wall. He now sat against the tub, his shoulders hunched and head buried in his arms. The soles of his feet had been cut by the broken pieces of glass, and tiny spots of blood stained the floor tiles.

Hermione picked her way through the glass and placed a hand on his arm. He ignored her, but she could feel his muscles contract beneath her touch.

"Draco," she whispered, drawing his arms away from his face. His eyes were bloodshot and the silver in his irises held nothing but pain.

"I'm fine." His voice was rough with emotion and he averted his gaze.

"No, you're not." She gripped his shoulder before he could move away. Her arms curled around his neck and the action put her halfway onto his lap. She pressed her cheek against his forehead and felt him shiver.

Draco didn't move. He didn't even speak. And they stayed like this for so long until his harsh breaths evened out, until her legs felt numb and the blood on his feet dried up. She thought he'd almost fallen asleep in her arms when he finally let out a shuddering breath. And when he spoke, his voice was low and raw.

"I'm not like her," he seemed to be speaking to himself more than Hermione, but she strained her ears to listen anyway. "I'm not like her. I'm not like any of them."

Hermione didn't know who they were but she could hazard a guess. She pressed her lips to his forehead and sifted her fingers through his soft blond hair.

"Of course you're not," she murmured against his skin, and wished he knew how she thought the world of him, that even though he belonged to the darkest shadows, he was still the brightest ray of light to her. "You're a good person. Never let anyone tell you otherwise."