Happy No(e)vember! As some of you already know, the title and cover change is , so don't freak out. It's just the best time of the year, and what better way than to celebrate it in true green Slytherin style? Enjoy it while it lasts.

Anyway, if you're doing Nanowrimo this month, do add me. I'm also on the site!

x Noelle

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Releases the target's grip.

relayed McGonagall's mission to the others. The Order lacked some of its best fighters thanks to the battle at Gringotts. Shacklebolt was reluctant to launch another rescue mission since the first had turned out to be such a disaster.

But McGonagall thought otherwise.

"She wants us to rescue them?" Blaise asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Pansy looked equally intrigued, while Hermione worried her bottom lip.

And Theo, like the ever-unenthusiastic, anti-Order, defected Death-Eater that he was, was simply chewing stoically on a slice of bacon.

Draco shrugged. "I guess so. McGonagall says they're being held at the Ministry of Magic."

"Why not at Malfoy Manor?" asked Pansy. "The Dark Lord's always kept his prisoners there."

"Probably because all his prisoners escaped the last time he put them there." Draco shot her a meaningful look, and she knew he meant the night they defected. "Anyway, ever since the Dark Lord took over the Ministry, the basement has always been for prisoners. Malfoy Manor houses the important prisoners, but I don't think that's true anymore."

A silence fell upon the table. Only Blaise and Pansy seemed remotely interested. Draco just knew that he'd have to help them; and by the looks of it, Hermione was only on board if the others were. Theo, on the other hand, was staring at his food like it was ten times more interesting than the subject at hand.

"Would the five of us be enough?" Blaise asked at last. "It seems incredibly difficult with so many to save."

"You could recruit," Andromeda suggested, taking her attention momentarily off the frying pan to glance over her shoulder at them. "Even though Kingsley's not willing to send rescue missions, I see no reason why the Order members can't offer their assistance if they're willing."

"Draco?" Blaise turned to his friend, who gave another shrug.

"It's worth a shot."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

So after breakfast, Andromeda headed to the headquarters with Blaise and Pansy. They had agreed that Draco and Theo were not the best people to go, considering the fact that both of them had a knack of saying maddening things that just riled people up. Hermione was more than reluctant to meet the Order, and so she stayed behind as well.

The weather was chilly out, and she had just made several cups of hot chocolate. After handing one each to Grus, Teddy and Theo, who were all in the living room, she brought the remaining two mugs upstairs.

She found Draco in the inventory, hunched over the Pensieve, his arms braced over the smooth rim of the bowl. Draco was never hunched; he always held himself with the kind of confident, almost-arrogant stride, with a grace that she always envied. Even back at Hogwarts. She had her intelligence. He - had everything else.

He didn't react when she set the mugs down. But as she placed her palm on his back, he tensed, even though he didn't turn. "Draco, is everything alright?"

His face illuminated by the faint light streaming in through the open window, but the normally guarded look on his features were completely obliterated and in its place lay a shade of sadness she'd never seen before on him. And she thought back about all the times she'd seen him display a wide variety of emotions - angry with a sneer on his face; taunting with a mocking grin; pleased with a twinkle in his eyes; even terrified with the colour drained from his cheeks.

But this was different.

His grey eyes met hers for a moment before he looked away. "Yeah, I was – um..." He swallowed and opened his fist to reveal a phial. "Memories of my mum."

"Is that the phial I gave you for Christmas?"

He didn't answer. With a sigh, she gently pulled him away from the Pensieve. She'd made that phial because it was one of the few memories she'd had of his mother. She couldn't remember much of her earliest days in captivity, but she did remember being locked up in a basement. A blonde woman had swept down the steps and looked at her with a kind of maternal sympathy that made her heart ache.

"Look at you," whispered Narcissa Malfoy, and Hermione remembered that the fear on Narcissa's face was mirrored on her own. The older woman gripped pointed the wand to Hermione's bleeding chest. "Vulnera Sanentur."

She repeated it twice more until the deep gashes had sealed up. When Hermione opened her eyes again, Narcissa Malfoy had disappeared. She never saw the woman again, until Draco had mentioned her.

And by that time, Narcissa Malfoy was already dead.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered as she met his gaze now. "I didn't think they would upset you – "

He shook his head, and she reached up to brush his blond hair out of his eyes. "I'm not upset. I just..." He swallowed hard; his lips pressing down in a tight line as he dragged in a sharp breath. "I just – "

" - miss her?" Hermione supplied, when he seemed incapable of finishing his sentence. He shut his eyes briefly and nodded, and so she reached over and pulled him close without hesitation. "I know you do."

He was silent for awhile as Hermione wrapped her arms around him, his breathing ragged and uneven against her hair, his grip tight and almost unyielding on her. Hermione brushed her thumb briefly across his cheek and placed a soft kiss along his jawline before burying her face against his neck.

"Do you - " when he broke the silence, his voice was low and almost desperate. " - do you ever think you'll stop missing someone?"

She thought about all the people from her past that she missed. She didn't miss them enough, because she'd forgotten about them. But what about the people in her present? Just the thought of losing them – any of them – made her heart twist with fresh pain. Like someone had taken a knife, plunged it straight into her heart and twisted.

"You know," Hermione mused softly, a sad smile curving on her lips, "I don't think you ever do."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The next day, Hermione asked Blaise to teach her the Patronus Charm. He looked equal parts surprised and pleased, because neither Draco nor Theo had exhibited the slightest interest in learning how to cast one.

"It's not that easy," Blaise admitted as they practiced out on the front porch. "A lot of people can't cast a Patronus, let alone one that takes on a corporeal form."

"Corporeal?" Hermione asked, watching him with avid interest.

"Yes, look." He waved circles with his wand and murmured half-heartedly, "Expecto Patronum." White light shot forth in a shield that evaporated just as quickly. "Non-corporeal," he explained, and waved his wand again. "Now this is a corporeal one: Expecto Patronum!"

This time, the surge of white light was far more brilliant and powerful. It morphed into a wolf that seemed to charge into the far distance for about three seconds before fading away altogether.

Blaise grinned at Hermione, who stared up at him with wide brown eyes. He didn't think she ever looked this impressed by him before. "Clear your head and think of the happiest memory you have," he added. "Then circle your wand several times and recite the incantation."

Hermione bit her lip and slowly climbed to her feet, her wand in hand. "Is your happiest memory of Pansy?" She asked curiously. When Blaise looked at her in surprise, she hastened to add, "I mean, your Patronus is a wolf after all."

He nodded. "And your happiest memory has something to do with Draco?"

She blushed at that and ducked her head. "Expecto Patronum." Disappointment flashed across her face when nothing happened.

"That's okay. The Patronus Charm is one of the most difficult spells to master and it's even harder than... Is that Luna?"

Hermione followed the direction of his gaze, her eyes widening when she saw Luna heading down the path towards the house. Another person was striding alongside her, a familiar redhead with freckles, his hands gesticulating wildly as he spoke to Luna.

Blaise whistled through his teeth. "Draco and Theo are not going to be happy to see one of the Weasels here. That's George Weasley," he added, when Hermione looked up at him for confirmation. It seemed that apart from Ron - who Luna talked frequently about, and Ginny - whom Hermione vaguely remembered; the rest of the Weasley family confused her terribly.

George spotted the two of them on the porch and rushed forward with a yell. "Mione!" Before she could blink, he'd swept her up into a bone-crushing hug. "It's so great to see you!"

"Hello, George," Hermione smiled faintly, but the moment he let her go, she darted behind Blaise, who shot her an amused look.

"I thought Luna was seeing things when she said that you were back," George said. "How've you been?"

"I've been good, thank you," Hermione squeaked, her eyes still wide as she regarded him with blatant curiosity. So this was George Weasley. There were faint memories she had of him - of him and his twin brother, whom Draco had told her was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts. George Weasley looked cheerful as ever now, even though he was missing one of his ears.

Luna came up then with a wide smile on her face. "Hello! Is Draco here? I told George about McGonagall's mission and he'd like to be a part of it."

Blaise looked surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, really," George said, the smile quickly slipping off his face as his demeanour grew serious. "Ginny's among those captured by You-Know-Who. Couldn't call myself a proper brother if I didn't save her."

"George came back just this morning," Luna explained, "I'm sure Ron and the others would join this mission if they knew about it. But one of the bases got attacked the other day - the same day the headquarters was attacked, by the way - and they're trying to safeguard the other bases."

"Apparently, You-Know-Who will launch an attack on the remaining three bases sometime today," added George.

"So the Ministry's not as guarded as it should be." Blaise's eyes were bright and he opened the door. "Come on in. I'll get Draco."

George and Luna headed inside, quickly exchanging greetings with Pansy and Theo, who were reading in the living room. Unlike the other Order members, George didn't seem to have a problem at all with their Dark Marks, and he was just about to launch into a discussion with Theo about quidditch when he spotted a familiar-looking parchment on the coffee table.

"How did you get that?" George asked, swiping up the paper and staring at it with barely-concealed surprise.

"We found it," Pansy said vaguely, not wanting to give away the fact that she'd pilfered through Shacklebolt's desk. He hadn't come to demand his things back, which meant that he'd assumed it had all been stolen by the Death-Eaters.

It was just as well. None of them seemed particularly willing to return Shacklebolt his things - apart from Theo, of course, who thought of the Sorting Hat as the bane of his existence and wanted to burn it on a daily basis.

"But it's charmed." Theo dismissed the old parchment with a wave of his hand. "We can't figure it out."

"'Course you can't," George laughed good-humouredly, sitting down on the coffee table opposite Luna and Hermione. "You need the right touch to work it - here, I'll show you."

Apart from Luna, the other three leaned in with curiosity. George drew out his wand and tapped the parchment.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Theo began to read aloud the words that appeared on the parchment. "Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present," he paused, frowning slightly as a building they all knew appeared on the paper. "The Marauder's Map."

"That's Hogwarts," breathed Pansy.

"Every inch of Hogwarts," George declared, looking both pleased and a little sad all at once. "Every classroom, every hallway, every secret passage there is to discover. Every person inside Hogwarts can be seen on this map. Check this out - " he pointed to a particular name, "Alecto Carrow's in the Great Hall right this moment."

Theo shook his head in disbelief. "Ever since the Dark Lord took over Hogwarts, the bloody Carrows have set up base there. But this is one hell of an invention."

"Isn't it? Fred and I nicked it from Filch's office years ago," George paused briefly, a shadow crossing his face and Hermione knew at once what it was. She'd seen the same emotion on Draco just the day before. The kind of sadness that never waned no matter how much time passed when someone so important to you left forever.

When the others took the map aside to study it further, she remained behind with George. "I'm sorry about Fred," she said softly to him.

He looked rather wistful for a moment before shaking his head. "It's fine, 'Mione," he said, before adding, "I'm sorry about Crookshanks, by the way."

"Crookshanks?"

"Your cat? It died some months after we lost you."

"Oh." Hermione vaguely recalled a ginger-coloured, rather ugly looking cat that she had once been rather fond of. But a lot of her past life seemed foreign to her, and every emotion or thought or feeling she once had often seemed like they belonged to a stranger.

Hermione supposed she missed Crookshanks, but she couldn't miss something that she could barely remember having to begin with.

Draco strode into the living room at that moment, Blaise trailing after him, and took his seat on the arm of the sofa next to Hermione. "Loony," Draco greeted, tossing her a dismissive nod before doing the same to George. "One-eared Weasel."

Hermione gasped. "Draco!"

George, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly amused to see him and simply grinned. "Don't worry about it, 'Mione. The only reason why I'm putting up with Ferret-Malfoy is because he saved me two years ago instead of killing me like he should have."

All eyes promptly swivelled to Draco, who shot George a cold glare. "I didn't."

"Yes, in that battle at Whitehall. You took me down with a Stupefy before Bellatrix could kill me. Don't think I forgot that."

"Oh, Draco did the same for me too," Luna chimed in, looking absolutely pleased now, "otherwise, I would've been dead."

"I would've killed you if it were necessary," Draco shot back evenly, "now shut up about it. And Granger - stop looking at me like that, I didn't save anyone."

Theo chuckled. "Draco Malfoy - a fucking hero? Never thought I'd live to see the day."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Getting into the Ministry of Magic was easy.

Draco knew the grounds of the place fairly well, since he used to pass on new laws to the Ministry back when he was under the Dark Lord's orders. They had split up as usual - the Weasley twin, with his reckless behaviour and Theo, with his equally reckless behaviour were to create diversions on the first floor. Pansy and Blaise were to hunt for important information in the upper rooms and put down any Death-Eater guarding the place, while Hermione and Luna were tasked with freeing as many captives as they possibly could.

Hidden by a Disillusionment charm, Draco had headed straight for Pius Thicknesse's office. As he'd predicted, the Imperiused Minister for Magic was at his desk. But when explosions shot through the building, Thicknesse and the other works ran out of the room to investigate.

Draco smirked. So he'd always thought that the Weasley twin - like the rest of the other Weasleys - was an absolute git, but it seemed like his Decoy Detonators had worked brilliantly.

He shut the doors and locked them. Then he went to Thicknesse's desk and undid the complicated charms that sealed it tight. He tapped the paperweight with his wand and stepped back. The desk split itself into half as a shelf of papers emerged from within – records of every Death-Eater that the Dark Lord had recruited. He thumbed through them quickly until he found his and Theo's files.

Good. Theirs still remained, which meant that they were safe for now. Their Marks no longer burned because the Dark Lord had probably presumed them dead and cut his connection off with them. Pansy's and Blaise's files, however, were wiped from the record, which could only mean one thing: their lives were at stake.

He abandoned the notes and stepped behind the desk. He pointed his wand at the wall and drew an inverse S-shape. "Alohomora."

This time, the walls slid open to reveal a large secured cell, with a square window barely a few inches wide. Draco ignored the window, instead undoing the complicated locks on the door. And when the door was unlocked, he wasn't at all surprised to see a red-haired, freckled-face, puffy-eyed girl staring back at him with a horrified expression on her face.

He smirked. "Hello, Weaselette."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Blaise hadn't even known what hit him until he found ropes twisting tightly into his skin, so tight he could barely breathe.

He swore as he found himself dragged down the hallway towards the Death-Eater. It was his own fault for forgetting to recast the Disillusionment charm on himself. He'd gotten so carried away searching for new information that he'd entirely disregarded self-preservation.

The Death-Eater flipped up his mask and stared down at him in disbelief. "Zabini?"

Blaise grinned, even as he maintained a tight grip on his wand. "Pritchard. Good to see you again, mate."

Graham Pritchard blinked in confusion. "Merlin, did you really defect? What're you doing here?"

"If you want to kill me, you may as well get along with it," Blaise returned calmly.

Graham tensed. After what seemed like forever and a hell of an internal debate going on in his head, he fell a step back, shaking his head slowly. "You saved my life once, Zabini. I suppose - I can look the other direction this time. Relashio."

Blaise felt the ropes around him loosen and he exhaled in relief.

Graham pointed to the left. "There's an exit there. The Death-Eaters are coming in from the other side."

"Thanks."

"I hope I won't see you around, Zabini."

Graham apparated away without another word, and Blaise quickly took the opportunity to shove the ropes off himself, before hiding in an alcove, lighting the phials to signal the rest of 17-65. As far as he was knew, he'd had a lucky escape this time round but he wasn't a cat with nine lives. Graham Pritchard was the first of many Death-Eaters that had made their way into the Ministry of Magic, and it was time to get the hell out of there.

Fast.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬