Hello my loves! As it's nano season, I tend to be very forgetful about updating Draconian when my focus is on Miles Away. That said, this story is NOTon hiatus. Basically drop a message on my board or DM me via instagram, whatever it takes to get my attention. Thanks very much for the help in advance!

x Noelle

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Conceals a secret.

asleep with Hermione in his arms.

He didn't realise it, not until the next morning, when soft knocks on the door woke him. His sleep had been fitful as usual, his senses still alert as ever.

Because when it came to a war, you slept with your eyes wide open.

But it was different last night. He felt more rested, somehow, and a part of him wondered if it had anything to do with the witch whose head lay on his chest. He glanced down at her silently. One of her hands lay fisted around the fabric of his jumper; while the other clutched the phial hanging from the chain he'd given to her. Her breaths were steady, peaceful, which seemed almost ludicrous in a time like this.

The persistent knocks drew him up. He shifted Hermione aside and got up to open the door.

Blaise was standing outside, two plates of waffles in his hands; and Pansy was next to him, holding a tray of healing potions. She managed a half-smirk by way of greeting, but Blaise smiled brightly at him. "Morning, mate. How's Hermione?"

"Still sleeping," Draco replied, casting a brief glance over his shoulder at the brunette on his bed. But Hermione was no longer sleeping; she was slowly beginning to sit up and smiled when she saw Blaise and Pansy standing by the doorway.

"Hello, Hermione," Pansy pushed past Draco quickly, ignoring the low growl in his throat as she did, and headed straight for the girl. It had only been weeks, but Pansy sometimes treated Hermione like she was her best mate and if he was being entirely honest, this nicer side of Pansy was sure as hell fucking with his mind.

"How're you feeling?" Pansy asked, setting the potions on the bedside drawer and helping Hermione to the edge of the bed. Blaise took that as a cue to enter the room too, pushing past Draco and setting the waffles down on the table.

Draco swore under his breath and shut the door. If he didn't shut the door, he was almost certain even Theo would come barging in sooner or later. His room was beginning to feel like a common meeting place and he didn't quite know how he felt about that.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked pleased to see his friends. "I'm much better now, thank you."

"That's great," said Blaise. "If you're feeling better, why don't you come out of the room?"

Draco immediately froze at Blaise's question.

"There's a TV outside, we've got tons of things to do outside, and you can get eat whatever food you can find in the kitchen. I mean, you can't stay in this room forever – "

Hermione's discomfort went unnoticed by Blaise. Draco shot Pansy an irritated glance, which she immediately caught.

"What Blaise meant to say was – we'd love if you could come out," Pansy hastily interrupted, trying to sound as pleasant as she could. "Maybe have a meal or two with all of us."

"All of you?" Hermione echoed.

Blaise shrugged. "You've already met all of us, even Theo. I know that Draco's room is a safe haven for you, but you can't stay in here forever."

When Hermione fell silent, Draco decided that his friends had overstayed their welcome. He narrowed his eyes at them. "Don't you two have to get to work?"

Pansy smirked. "Don't you?"

"I'll meet you three at the Manor."

His tone made clear there was no room for argument. His friends quickly bade Hermione goodbye and left the room. Once it was just the two of them, he shut the door and turned to her.

"You alright, Granger?"

She smiled weakly. "I'm okay. But do you think Blaise was right? Do I...do I have to—"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Granger. You can stay in this room if that's what you want."

The curve of her lips deepened and widened, and it was simply beautiful. He wondered for the millionth time how he hadn't ever noticed Hermione Granger's smile before. Probably because he had that massive stick of snobbery and pureblood crap shoved up his fucking arse back during Hogwarts days.

He hadn't any of that anymore and what with both his parents dead, he was finally free to think however he wanted of Granger, and the mere idea of that alone was both liberating and terrifying.

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The general meeting with the Dark Lord the next day was both dreary and depressing, but Blaise found himself kept on tenterhooks as he always was whenever he was in the same room as the Dark Lord.

Draco was right by the Dark Lord's side as usual, with that cold façade he'd long mastered. No one else saw the gleam in Draco's eyes as he studied the other Death-Eaters, but Blaise had been friends with him for long enough to know that he was thinking.

Draco Malfoy was always thinking.

A sudden movement made Blaise glance to the side. Graham Pritchard stood beside him. With a slight nod towards the exit, he mouthed, "later."

Blaise managed an inconspicuous nod. Graham fell a step back.

Across the room, Draco's gaze sharpened and landed on Blaise, which wasn't much of a surprise because Draco never missed anything. His intent was clear – what did Pritchard want?

Blaise didn't know. But he was going to find out. The meeting soon came to an end, with Draco picking the next batch of Death-Eaters on his newest mission. This time, none of the Slytherins were involved, save for Draco.

Blaise made his way out of the room, careful to avoid his friends – since the four always made sure not to be seen together. Graham was already waiting for him by the doorway, and Blaise paused.

"I'll meet you at Diagon Alley," he murmured, and left Malfoy Manor. Once outside, he apparated to the meeting place. Graham soon appeared several feet away, and he nodded to the other man. "You have something to tell me?"

"Yeah." Graham threw a sharp glance around, then disillusioned himself. "I found out something about Yaxley."

"What is it?"

"I was on patrol the other day when I saw Yaxley going into the White Wyvern," Graham began, keeping his voice low. "He looked suspicious so I followed him in. He went into this private room – you know how the White Wyvern has meeting rooms only Death-Eaters can use?"

"He went into one of those?"

"Yeah. I think someone was waiting for him in the room, and I heard them talking about an organisation within the inner circle of Death-Eaters. Yaxley's obviously one of them. They call themselves the Peverells – or something similar to that."

Blaise ears immediately pricked up. "The Peverells?"

"You know about them, mate?"

"No, not at all."

Blaise's mind reeled. This was new. Hell, he didn't even know what it was but it was important.

They finally, finally had a lead.

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As soon as he returned, Blaise told his friends about the Peverells. When he was done, nothing but a confused silence remained. "Well?" he said, when none of them spoke. "Do any of you know anything about it?"

Pansy and Theo immediately turned to Draco, who shrugged. "Nothing. But at least we know that Yaxley is a part of it – and, in all likelihood, Alecto Carrow too – "

"And Amycus," Theo added, with a grin. "Had a patrol with him today. Stupid prat was talking his head off, so I hit him with a silencing charm. Then I used that spell, and he does have memory charms placed on him too."

Blaise frowned. "Did he – "

"Didn't suspect a bloody thing. How careless do you think I am?"

"Very careless, remember that one time – "

"Save your banter for some other time, lovebirds," Pansy cut in. "We need to get back to the topic at hand. Draco, what should we do next?"

Draco pushed himself off the counter. "Give me a minute." He headed straight into his room, leaving the other three staring after him with befuddled expressions.

Theo was the first to break the silence. "Did he just fucking leave us in the middle of a conversation to shag Hermione?"

Pansy's eyebrows shot up. "They're shagging?"

"Just hazarding a guess. Give him a minute or two – maybe he'll start yelling 'Accio condom'."

"Talking about yourself there, mate?" Blaise asked.

Theo smirked. "Why do you think your stash of condoms is always missing?"

"What the hell?"

"It was a joke – "

"Hold on a second," Pansy intervened, glaring at Theo through narrowed eyes. "Are you saying that you're the one who has been stealing the condoms? Blaise and I had to go without sex on those nights when there weren't any condoms and we were searching the whole bloody apartment just for that and you're telling me now that you stole them?"

"Technically, I did not steal them, I told them to come to me and they did. That's what the Accio spell's for, Pansy."

"Go fuck yourself, Theo – "

Pansy trailed off when Draco re-emerged from his room and returned to his spot on the counter. "Here's what we're going to do," he said, and turned to Blaise. "You and I need to do some research to find out who the Peverells are. We'll go to the Black Market if we need more books. And Theo, Granger says it's alright for you to view her memories. I'll need you and Parkinson to keep reviewing them and see if you can find any leads."

"Oh. So that's what you were doing back in your room," Blaise said, with a smile.

"Of course," Draco shot Theo an unamused glance. "And Accio condom? Really?"

Theo grinned. "You heard that?"

"Yeah. And by the way, do you also require Wingardium Leviosa before you shag?" Draco couldn't help but add, smirking when Pansy and Blaise began to laugh. He hoped the girl inside the room was laughing too, because he'd said it loud enough just for her to hear.

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Some days later, Hermione sat on the bed with the telephone beside her. The paper in her hands was yellowed, creased from the tight grip she had it in. She felt like she'd been sitting there for half a lifetime, when it was merely a few hours.

She still remembered what Draco had said the night before, where he'd revealed the places he'd searched for her in the past three years. "I'd stay behind to check the place after each patrol," he'd confessed.

It didn't surprise her. She'd always heard him anyway, and it was the reason she never forgot him. She knew he was sorry that he couldn't find her for so long, but it wasn't his fault. How could it be his fault when he was the only one who never gave up?

Well, one of two people. His aunt Andromeda was the other.

"She's the one who told me about you in the first place. She said that if I wanted to fix the mess I made, then I'd look for you. She thought I'd be able to help more than anyone because I'm a Death-Eater."

"Will you thank your aunt for me?" She'd asked.

"Thank her yourself." He'd reached over to open the bedside drawer, and fished out a piece of paper."That's her number. She's the reason I own a bloody telephone."

And that was how Hermione found herself at a crossroad. Andromeda Tonks was a complete stranger to her. Or maybe she wasn't, and Hermione just couldn't remember anymore. But still, she owed the woman her life.

Hermione took a deep breath and dialled the number with shaking hands. Three rings, and then –

"Password, please."

She froze at the voice on the other end.

"Password, please," the person sounded far more cautious this time.

She gripped the phone. "An-andromeda?"

A lengthy pause followed, before the person spoke again. "Who is this?"

"I-I'm – Her –"

"Hermione? Hermione Granger, is that you?"

"Yes," she forced out, and swallowed hard. "Hello, Andromeda."

Andromeda let out a relieved sigh. "Hermione, thank Merlin. I'm so glad to hear from you! Are you well?"

"Yes, I am. I just called to talk to you. And thank you, mostly..."

"You're very welcome, it was the least I could do." Andromeda's voice was gentle, almost maternal, and Hermione found herself warming up to the woman instantly. "Does Draco treat you well?"

Hermione felt her anxiety quickly dissipating at the mention of Draco's name. "Oh, yes, he does...he's wonderful."

"I'm glad. Tell me, how is he?"

Hermione smiled at that. She settled back against the wall along the left side of the bed, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest. It wasn't easy to talk to Andromeda – or to anyone else but Draco, for that matter – about herself, because words didn't come easy to her anymore.

But she talked to Andromeda about Draco – about mornings and afternoons and evenings spent with Draco, about how clever he was at magic and how brave he was in a time like this – and the words didn't fail her this time, because it was Draco and talking about him was easier than breathing.

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It surprised Draco to see Hermione on the phone when he returned. She glanced up at him, and her eyes lit. "You're back."

He went over to her, his rigid stance immediately relaxing when she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his neck. He could feel her warm breaths on his skin and the way her hair tickled his chin; and he shut his eyes for a brief moment because, with her, it often felt like the war and everything else had faded out, if only for awhile.

But it didn't last long. Reluctantly, he pulled away and gestured to the phone. "How long have you been talking to Dromeda?"

"All afternoon. Would you like to talk to her?"

Draco took the phone and held it to his ear, before he settled next to Hermione. "Dromeda?"

"Ah, there you are," Andromeda sounded thoroughly amused. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten all about your old aunt now that you've got Hermione."

He didn't miss the teasing lilt in his aunt's voice and didn't know whether to be annoyed or embarrassed. Merlin, if his aunt acted this way, he couldn't imagine how it'd be like if his mother...

No. Those were dangerous territories. Draco cleared the thoughts from his head and focused on the conversation. "I've been busy. How've you been? Any word on your end?"

"I presume you mean about the Order. Last I heard they've set up camp somewhere, but it's more of a safehouse than anything. I don't think they'll be going back into the battlefield anytime soon."

Draco made an aggravated noise. The bloody Order. Where the hell was all their stupid Gryffindor tenacity and Ravenclaw ingenuity and Hufflepuff righteousness at a time like this?

"I'm sorry, Draco," Andromeda continued. "I wish things would speed up but they still seem to be stuck in that rut for three years now."

"All that talk about Slytherin cowardice back in school but it seems that us Slytherins are the only ones doing all the fighting now," Draco deadpanned, gratified when he heard his aunt chuckle and agree heartily.

"Well, I am proud of you, Draco, you know that. So is Hermione," his aunt added slyly. Draco couldn't help but let his gaze wander to the brunette who sat beside him quietly. She was reading a book that he'd given her several days ago, but her fingers were still casually intertwined with his.

He wondered if Andromeda and Hermione would still feel proud if they knew all the things he did. All the things he had started. And all the things he would do.

His jaw clenched. "Yes, save the sentiment for some other time."

Andromeda laughed. "Alright then, I'll be going now. Take care, will you? And – "

"Stay safe?"

"Always."

She rang off, and he listened to the monotonous beeping for a moment before he set the telephone aside.

"I like her," Hermione's voice broke the silence. A small smile played on her lips; her thumb traced patterns on his skin as she held his hand. It comforted him, even though it was an unconscious action on her part.

"My aunt?"

"Yes. She reminds me of you."

His eyebrows rose. He and Andromeda were nothing alike. She was the only one in his family who fought for the light, while everyone else had drowned in the deepest shadows.

"She makes me feel safe too," Hermione explained, when he didn't say anything.

Draco quite thought that he'd misheard. "You feel safe with me?"

"Of course," she didn't miss a beat.

Draco couldn't quite wrap his head around that idea. That Hermione felt safe with him, him – the most lethal Death-Eater and the one who brought about the most bloodshed during this war.