Chapter Eight: Three Prisoners (Preview)

Hi everyone! Sorry it has taken me longer to post. I have been researching a little bit for future chapters to get details right :) It will make sense later, I promise.

Anyway I suspect the chapter to be edited and up sometime next week. Here is a little (unedited) preview!

***

“You were a full blooded Malfoy,” the whispering continued. “But… you betrayed the name. For what, I ask. FOR WHAT?”

“SO YOU CAN SIT SILENTLY AT A DESK TAKING ORDERS FROM OTHERS? SO YOU CAN BE TRASH THE MINISTRY FORGOT TO TAKE OUT? TO BE GOOD?”

Draco felt his father back away. He could hear his father dragging the cloth sack on the floor as he paced around the platform.

“Son, I know what went on at my trial. I know you spoke. I know what you shared.”

Silence filled the air and Draco heard footsteps move closer to him again.

“OPEN YOUR EYES COWARD! DID I RAISE YOU TO BE A COMMONER?!?”

Draco’s eyes flew open and burned with hatred at the man he once yearned to be. He spit at his father’s fine leather black shoes.

“I suppose that is a yes. Well my son, I took out your trash.”

A look of question clouded the young man’s eyes and he glanced down at the cloth sack that was placed before him.

“Yes, your trash. It is the only proper way to transport mud bloods.”

Chapter Seven: The Tower

Happy 2010 everyone!

As one of my new year resolutions, I have vowed to finish this story. Starting with this chapter, the loose ends will begin to be tied!

I want to give a huge thanks to Ms. Callie, Diane, and Frank for the corrections, suggestions, and all other input they gave to this chapter! It means so much to me! :)

Like always, please leave a comment after you read it. From a simple "I like it" to a complex criticism, I will take anything! And now, "The Tower" - hope you enjoy it!

Jenny

***


The Tower


The pungent smell of blood and dirt filled the young man's nostrils as a rush of wind swirled around him. Every inch of his body screamed in agony as he gradually became aware of his surroundings. Lying face down, he struggled to push himself up from the splintering floorboards. Sharp bolts of pain ripped up his arms as he collapsed back onto the cold wood. Coughing and sputtering, tears ran from his eyes as he tried to move as little as possible.

This was not what the young man had envisioned. Either he would have succeeded with his plan or died trying. There was never the third option of failing and ending up here, wherever here was, alive, with his breaths likely numbered.

He turned his head slightly to the left and managed to force open one of his swollen eyes. Albeit blurry, this place had a familiarity to it. He was a foot away from a support column of his prison enclosure. He was not in a traditional room. He followed the wood floor with his eyes as it continued to open air. He could see endless miles of trees. There were thick iron ropes that prevented someone from wandering off the platform where he was. It appeared he was in some type of tower.

Summoning all of his remaining energy, he turned his head to face the other direction and yelled out in pain. Some parts of him had been broken. If he was a betting man, he would have to say multiple parts. Gritting his teeth and clenching his eyes shut, he tried to control his breathing. At that moment he heard footsteps, heavy soles hitting the floor sharply.

"Welcome, welcome" The raspy voice called from across the room.

The young man moaned in response. Opening his ‘good eye,’ the only one he realized he could successfully open, he saw the other side of the room for the first time and gasped.

There was a large telescope protruding from the center of the floor.

With a deep chuckle, the visitor stepped from the shadows of the stairwell.

"Master Malfoy thought this would be the perfect place to bring you. He said this place would have so much meaning. "

The young man immediately recognized the traditional Death Eater garb. The man behind the mask was stocky and towered over the young man.

Speaking through his clamped teeth he managed to force out, "Why the Astronomy Tower?"

"Oh pardon me, I forgot. The symbolism isn't apparent with you like this." The death eater walked up to his crumpled frame and nudged it with his toe.

The Death Eater closed his eyes and raised his right hand, exposing a small, thin wand.

"Corpus Reconcilio!"

The young man's body flew off the ground with the force of the spell. At that moment he was sure he felt the pain of the entire world and then in an instant he felt none.

***

"You idiot!! Why would you use that spell? Most people don't live through it!" A high pitched voice screamed, bringing the young man back from the peace and serenity that had enveloped him.

"Well if he dies, at least he won't look like we roughed him up as much as we did. We don't need the days of healing and you know that. ‘Corpus Reconcilio’ is the only spell to get it done quickly," the raspy voice spat back.

"Master Malfoy won't have my head for this. You know what this boy means to him. We have too much at stake right now. You better hope he wakes up or you won't be seeing daylight."

The young man heard footsteps move away from him. He again attempted to open both his eyes, and was able to do so with ease.

"Good. You are up." The husky Death Eater stood up from the floor beside him. Walking away slowly, he turned on a dime and gave him a swift kick to the gut.

Curling up in a fetal position, the young man began to dry heave.

"That's for almost dying. With all of the effort we have put into this scene,” the Death Eater paused and ripped up a small piece of the floor board and hurled it over the side of the tower, “we can’t have you leave us on your own terms.”

“Now that we have that settled, let me tell you the rules. Master Malfoy put you up here to bring back some good ole' memories. I wouldn't try to escape if I were you. Although, if you get bored, you can always hop over the side of the tower here like your pal Dumbledore."

The death eater chuckled again and began to leave. The young man reached for where his wand usually hid.

Continuing to walk to the stairwell, the Death Eater called out, "You didn't really think we would leave you with your wand did you? Did you already forget who we are? I find that highly insulting."

An eerie silence blanketed the room. Even the wind had fallen still.

There were many times that the young man had felt alone in his life, but this instance trumped them all.

***

Hermione repositioned the clips in her hair as she stood outside an ornate mahogany wooden door with a beautifully carved phoenix. The hallway was empty. Void of windows and other doors, torches lit the fifty feet of stone wall and floor. She brushed her straightened hair behind her shoulders and turned to glance back at the auror guards who stood at the elevator entrance. She wasn’t sure how she had managed to get through the throngs of surprised witches and wizards at the Ministry of Magic Commons. Perhaps it was the mere shock that had allowed her to slip past.

Many were in pursuit, however, most notably the reporter Rita Skeeter. She could pick out that curly blonde hair anywhere! Ms. Skeeter would be waiting for her to exit.

Hermione puckered her face and growled under her breath. This was not the time to mess with Hermione Granger, not now. She ran her hand over the crumpled cloth letter in her right suede jacket pocket. If people didn’t already know Rita Skeeter was an unregistered animagus, they would now if that snake wrote even one word with that acid green quill of hers.

Taking a ragged breath, she knocked on the wooden door. The door began to rattle and the phoenix opened its wooden eye. With a slight pause in movement, the extended wings of the beautiful bird pushed from the door an inch and slid down, half a foot. With that, the door creaked open towards Hermione and light cascaded from the room.

“Hermione, what a wonderful surprise.” A tall, black wizard with a single gold earring in his left ear and a booming voice stood up from his paper-littered grey marble desk that sat in the middle of the room. His deep purple robes straightened as he moved towards her.

Hermione squinted at the bombardment of bright light. The room’s walls were covered with windows, some small, some reaching from the floor to the ceiling. Most were rectangular, but a few were circles and squares. Much to Hermione’s surprise, there was one random triangular shaped large window stained with a purple sphere to the right of the room. It was here that several high-back wooden chairs were gathered around, as chairs would around a fireplace.

“Sorry about the light, it makes the room feel less like an office and more like I am outside. That’s what I loved about being an auror – having assignments that lead me out of the traditional workplace.” He smiled at the brown-haired girl and motioned to the chairs near the triangular window.

Hermione smiled and bowed her head as she walked past the minister to the chairs.

“You and I have had quite the week, haven’t we Miss Granger?” He spoke quietly as he trailed a few steps behind her.

“You have no idea minister.” Hermione shook her head. “I am not even sure what is truly going on.”

“Well from what I understood, up until mid morning, was that you and Ronald Weasley had been kidnapped from St. Mungo’s by Death Eaters who had broken out of Azkaban. The only thing that didn’t make sense was the strong charm on your flat that denied us entry. We deduced that perhaps your flat was a meeting place where the Death Eaters had gone with both you and Mr. Weasley after the attack. This was deemed plausible until we saw you on your own accord allow entrance to your elderly neighbor.”

Minister Shacklebolt sat down in the chair next to Hermione and leaned forward.
“Ms. Granger, how did you get from St. Mungo's to your flat?”

Hermione’s face flushed and her eyes fell to the floor. Would he even believe her if she told him the truth. What did she have to lose?

Hermione looked back up at the minister and gathered everything she could remember. She proceeded to tell him about the power outage at St. Mungo’s and running into Draco who persuaded her to go to her flat. She continued with the imprisonment on her couch and the fact that Draco’s foot had been left on her living room floor.

“So you are telling me that Draco Malfoy convinced you to apparate the both of you to your flat. Essentially binding you to your couch, he placed strong charms on your house blocking entry of others, left his foot and attacked St. Mungo’s with the other Death Eaters, taking Mr. Weasley hostage?”

Hermione nodded, rubbing her temples, and exhaling loudly.

“Hermione are you familiar with this window?”

Hermione turned toward the triangular window. Only one thing came to mind.

“The Deathly Hallows Symbol?”

“Very good.” Minister Shacklebolt smiled. “This is very similar, very similar indeed. The only thing that sets these two symbols apart is a simple vertical line that dissects the triangle and circle in the Deathly Hallows Symbol. Both are from the oldest forms of magic ever recorded, however the symbol here was the original before it was modified by, as the story goes, Death.”

Hermione stared at the triangle. She had never heard anything about this and hung to his words with bated breath.

“The Deathly Hallows Symbol is to be found on all three Deathly Hallow items, engraved by the incantations of Death himself. When the original symbol is broken down, the circle can be defined as the third eye, an opening to the soul, the immortal part of a living being. The triangle around it represents the body of a living being and the three characteristics to remain alive and whole: vitality of life, strength, and knowledge.”

“By intersecting these two, Death created a connection from the mortal part of a being to the immortal. He tied this symbol to three different items that resonated from the points of the triangle. Thus came forth the elder wand, the resurrection stone, and the cloak of invisibility. If a person were to obtain all three items they could become the Master of Death.”

“The original symbol, also known as ‘Temple of the Eye’, with the proper old magic spell, does not make a person immortal. This spell, however, allows the caster to be somewhat of a seer, using their human body to be able to read thoughts, view past experiences, and on the occasion to foresee the future.”

“You see Hermione, I wish to believe what you have just conveyed to me, but I need more proof. The events of the past few days just don’t make sense. The wizarding world could be heading into a third war. We don’t believe Voldemort is back, yet we don’t understand who would have the power to cause a resurgence of Death Eaters.”

“What I need you to do is place your hand on the purple circle, and all I will do is review the past several hours.”

Hermione was dumbfounded. She looked back at the minister.

“It makes sense that you might not believe me, but why not use a Pensieve for the memories or just give me Veritaserum instead?”

“Through this old magic,” Minister Shacklebolt continued, “I can not only see what you saw, but feel what you felt. It is much harder to change memories through this method and I can get more in depth information. Please place your hand on the circle.”

Hermione shuddered and did as she was instructed. She placed her hand over the sphere on the window and the minister placed his left hand over hers. He raised his right hand wielding his wand and tapped the top of their hands.

“Verum mens, verum somes, verum animus. Moments narro totus. Ostendo Mihi.”

Hermione watched a white light string from the tip of the wand and dive through their hands. She immediately felt a shock snake up her arm to the back of her neck. She peered at the Minister whose eyes had gone blank. She couldn’t help but feel a little nervous of what he would find. Had she missed something?

After what seemed like several minutes, Minister Shacklebolt nodded his head.

“Thank you so much Ms. Granger. What I viewed validates your verbal story exactly. The whole situation still continues to perplex me. While I consult with the auror team, we need to worry about the security of you and Harry.”

Hermione backed up from the window and fully faced the Minister.

“Me and Harry?”

“Well it appears that the events of this past week have focused on the “golden trio” with the intent to harm and capture, and most likely to kill. We will continue to look for Ronald Weasley and must focus on protecting both you and Harry. I am not sure why Mr. Malfoy chose to save you when he was obviously in on what the Death Eaters were planning. In addition, I don’t know how he could have led a follow-up attack on St. Mungo’s missing an essential appendage. That is the baffling part.”

“Back to security, Ms Granger, we will have aurors detailing you day and night as soon as I can arrange it. You, however, are your best protector. I have witnessed your bravery in the past and have no doubt in you now. You must, however, keep hold of your wand. We retrieved it from the hospital.”

The minister walked from the grouping of chairs to his desk and opened up the top drawer. He pulled out a wand length box and removed the top cover. Taking his wand from his chest pocket he tapped the open box twice, whispering something that Hermione could not hear. The minister smiled and picked up the box.

“Ms. Granger, can you come here?”

Hermione wove through the chairs and walked up to the large desk. She looked into the box. Sitting there were two small wooden stick earrings. She furrowed her brows.

“Is one of them my wand?”

“Precisely! You shall wear them as earrings. If you are captured, earrings are something they won’t focus on when searching for your wand. When you are ready to return your wand to regular size, grab the base of them while attached to your ears and say, “Trabaugeo.” The counter spell is the familiar “Reducio.”

Hermione slipped her hands in the box and removed the earrings. Examining them one more time, she placed them in her ears. Pulling her hair around the earrings she gave a small smile.

“I want to thank you for my wand, Minister. I was starting to feel lost without it.”

“Any time Ms. Granger, it is the least we could do. I am elated that you are safe. For now I must send you on your way. The aurors will head in your direction shortly. Keep a good head about you. Take care.”

With that, the minister took a seat in his chair and began to shuffle through some paperwork.

Hermione turned and headed out of the room. It was just starting to sink in about what the minister saw in her memories. Did he see the kiss with Harry? Did he see the way I had felt with Draco at my flat? She felt sick to her stomach.

As she made her way on the elevator she tried to clear her thoughts. She would attempt to contact Harry. She needed to talk to someone and he would listen. She could ignore what had happened at the hospital if he could. The thought of speaking to Harry lifted her spirits. She had always been able to confide in him before.

As she thanked the second set of aurors in the elevator she stepped out into the crowded common room of the ministry. Before catching a glimpse of the Floo Network, a flash of blonde sped past the corner of her eye. She looked around and picked up her pace.

“Not so fast Ms. Granger, not so fast.”

Hermione spun on her heels and was face to face with Rita Skeeter.

“Leave me alone! I don’t want to speak to you!”

“I am afraid you don’t have an option.” A sharp smile formed on the bright red lips of the curly blonde haired woman.

“I don’t have an option? I am sure people would love to know your other form. I black-mailed you once, I can do it again. DO NOT PUSH ME!” Hermione hissed in the reporters face.

“Oh but I want to know Hermione, how did you escape St. Mungo's? We were looking all over for you!”

Hermione’s face fell in disbelief.

“What did you just say?”

“What I meant to say, Ms. Granger, is that you are coming with me. You have a certain someone that wants to meet you, again.”

Rita Skeeter put her wand up to Hermione’s neck and everything went black.

***

Hermione woke up to a cold wind whipping through her hair. Her head was pounding and she pulled the blanket that was covering her over her face.

“I must have left the window open,” she murmured.

Stretching out her cramped arms, she hit a warm body who let out a loud snore.

The sound immediately woke her from the haze she had been in. She threw off the cover and sat up. Taking in her surroundings over the span of a minute, her breath caught in her throat. Was this a dream?

She was at Hogwarts! Not only that, she was in the astronomy tower of the school!

Panicked, her pulse began to race. When did I get here? Why am I here?

That’s when she heard the snore again. She had forgotten that a noise had originally aroused her from unconsciousness.

She turned towards the source of the sound and quickly pulled herself to the center of the room.


“DRACO?!?”

Chapter Six: Keep Me in Your Memories

Keep Me in Your Memories

The storm had ended and dawn’s flickering rays of light began to peek through the sides of the thick crimson drapes that had been pulled over the front window.

As the sun’s light intensified, it managed to seep through the fibers of the cloth. At that same moment, three sharp knocks rattled the front door. Startled, Hermione sat up from the couch and groggily pulled her knotted hair from her face. Stretching, she realized that she was no longer a prisoner of her own couch.

A sense of alarm pulsed through Hermione’s veins. After what had happened the past week, she had changed. After Voldemort had died, she reasoned she would be able to relax a little bit, not having to be perpetually strong willed, letting others take care of her. Could she survive if she continued wander down this path? Hermione was going to have to channel her “old self” – the self that had kept her alive thus far.

No matter who she saw on the other side of the door, she was not going to let her guard down now. If only she had her wand! Hermione felt herself falter slightly as she stood. She smoothed out her hospital gown with her hands. She didn’t need her wand. She was cunning and resourceful.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione moved towards the door.

Looking through the peep hole, she caught the tight ball of grey hair. Was it her muggle land lady, Ms. Sonya? It was not the beginning of the next month yet, right? Hermione was never late on her rent payments.

Opening the door slowly, Hermione ran through possible questions that only Ms. Sonya would know, without seeming like a total dimwit. As the door inched open, a small wrinkled hand stuck itself between the door and the door frame.

“Ms. Granger! Let me in! Are you all right?”

Hermione almost jumped out of her skin.

Somewhat composing herself she blurted, “Wait! Can you tell me what flavor jam I got you this past Christmas? I forgot. I don’t want to get you the same for your birthday.”

Hermione held tight on the door, attempting to stop the little woman from making it through the threshold. Her landlady always thought she was a little weird anyhow, why disappoint her now.

Hermione was successful. The old woman stopped for a moment.

“Peach? Oh I loved it so!” She heard through the door.

Hermione swung the door open and pulled the wrinkled woman inside. Barely making it to Hermione’s shoulders, the old woman stood in front of her, boney and frail, with her glasses pushed as close to her eyes as she could get them. Her grey hair was pulled tightly in a bun that sat perfectly on the top of her head. She appeared to be in a bright floral print house dress, while wearing pink fluffy slippers.

The woman stood there, void of words, with her eyes wide and mouth gaping.

“Ms. Sonya, are you all right?” Hermione spoke as she headed back to the couch. She was still quite tired.

“Why yes dear. I believe I am doing better then you at the moment. You look absolutely off colour, and you’re in hospital garb to boot!”

Hermione blushed and looked towards the fireplace at the opposite end of the room.

“I just got home from the hospital last night.” She began. “I had been outside of the café the night of the explosion.”

“Oh my! Well I am so glad you are all right, Ms. Granger. So many people died in that fire. It was horrid! You know, they still don’t know how it happened. Just odd! It gives me goose pimples just thinking about it!”

Ms. Sonya took the seat next to Hermione on her couch.

“I’ve always loved this sofa – it is so comfy! I could just sit here for hours. Anyway, I just wanted to check to see how you were. I hadn’t seen you in a few days, and your front porch has been crawling with people this morning!”

“What do you mean?” Hermione crossed her legs and looked down at the small woman next to her.

“Oh I am sorry. I don’t mean to be a snoop. You know my kitchen pane faces in your way, and I was just doing the dishes after early morning tea. Well you have just had some interesting characters at your door. No one ever appeared to knock either. They would just wander up and then stand there for a while and leave. It had been about thirty minutes since the last person visited so I decided to try my hand at reaching you and actually knock. Look who I found! You!”

Ms. Sonya chuckled lightly and readjusted her glasses. She reached over to the coffee table in front of her and began to shuffle through some old magazines Hermione had picked up from a stand across from the ministry.

Hermione frowned at the thought of having people waiting for her outside. Were they friend or foe? If it was a friend, they could have easily apparated here. Well if they had been here before. But, if the mysterious visitors had really wanted entry, they could have tore down the door. There had been no need to have fancy protection spells up until this point. If it had been a muggle, surely they would have knocked.

Hermione stood up and turned to face the couch and her land lady. She cleared her voice.

“Can you tell me how many were here, and what they looked like?”

Ms. Sonya placed the open magazine she had been flipping through on her lap and looked up at Hermione with big eyes, distorted by the thick lenses of the glasses.

“Oh dear. Let me think. My memory is not as sharp these days. I do know all of them had been wearing black. The first one I saw was lad with dark brown hair, glasses. He had been wearing a thick traveling cloak. He seemed nervous and kept pacing in front of your door. He stayed for just a bit and then left.”

The old woman closed her eyes, appearing to be concentrating hard.

“About twenty minutes later, a group of gentlemen came, about five in all. They all squeezed up here on your stoop and had twigs in their hands. It was the oddest thing! The men looked as they should be part of some sort of sorcerers’ convention or something. I was never too much in to those science fiction reads. They didn’t look too happy though. After they threw what appeared to be an adult tantrum, they left as well.”

“Your last visitors were a large black gentleman and tall, thin red head. The two men walked the perimeter of the flat just talking and staring. They didn’t stay too long.”

Hermione grabbed the throw blanket from behind her and wrapped it tightly around herself. A cold chill ran up and down her spine. She could only assume who her visitors had been. She was going to have to let the ministry know that she was alive. The sooner the better.

“Well thanks Ms. Sonya for keeping an eye on me. Silly me, I told my friends I didn’t want any visitors, but I guess they didn’t listen. Remember how I told you I belonged to a wizarding role playing club? Where we dress up and act funny? Well there must have been a group get together or something. I will have to tell them not to act so weird!”

Hermione forced a laugh and gave a big smile at her land lady.

Ms. Sonya didn’t appear to be fully buying Hermione’s charade, but nevertheless she took the cue to leave.

Giving a small smile in return, she spoke softly.

“All right then. Well you rest up and eat something. You are disappearing right before me. I am across the street if you need anything. Take care now.”

The grey haired lady hoisted herself off the couch and shuffled to the door. Taking one more look at Hermione, she searched the brown haired girl’s eyes as if hoping to access the real answers from within. With a sigh, she turned and took a step out the door in to the bright sun.

Hermione’s next order of business was to get cleaned up and changed. She would then go down to the ministry and clear up all of the mess of her having been kidnapped. Hopefully a plan would be made on how to stay safe and rescue her friend at the same time. If only everything could be as simple as it sounded in her head.


***

Harry had been sitting on the floor just inside his studio for several hours. Leaning against the door, he watched the light from the kitchen window cast long shadows on the wall beside him as the dismal day had turned into a dark night. He hadn’t bothered changing out of his soaked cloak and trousers from his walk from St. Mungos earlier. He sat on the hardwood, cold, unmoving, hardly breathing, drowning in his thoughts.

The chosen one’s curse, he didn’t even know himself anymore.

Reaching up to his forehead, he rubbed his lightning shaped scar. Was he waiting for it to hurt again? His scar along with his identity had faded with the passing days after the war. With all of the expectations, all of the notoriety, Harry struggled mightily to live up to all of the hype.

Voldemort had consumed his entire “magical” life. That was what he knew, what he had aimed at to defeat. With Voldemort gone, a part of Harry had slipped away into the darkness. He felt it deep within. Was it because he had reached his ultimate destination? He was only seventeen and his mission in life had been accomplished. He knew that he would like to be an auror, but he had never put much thought into it. Perhaps he had never truly believed that he would survive.

He had survived, he continued to survive. But at what cost?

Harry felt his eyes begin to sting. He ripped off his lenses and flung them the across the foyer and into the kitchen. He listened to them skid and clatter against the a small table.

Who was Harry Potter... now? To the wizarding community he was an auror, entrusted with the capturing of death eaters on the run, strong willed and resourceful. A true public servant. To himself, he was lost, confused, hurting, with an extremely long run of good luck that was finally running out. If only people would realize he was fallible. He wondered how long it would be until his poor decisions hunted him down.

Harry listened to the rain patter against the window panes throughout the small flat. It was now virtually pitch black and without his glasses he could not make out a thing. He pulled out his wand from his pants.

“Accio Glasses!”

Harry was sliding his glasses up his nose when a silvery figure slipped from under the door beside him and shimmered into the form of a lynx.

“Harry. There has been an attack at St. Mungos involving what we believe to be a reorganized group of death eaters lead by Draco Malfoy. There are dead and wounded as well as missing wizards and witches. Preliminary reports have shown that Hermione and Ron are among those missing. Before you make any rash decisions, please understand your orders.

I am asking you to report in at Hogwarts to aid in a possible overnight evacuation. We will not make the same mistake that was made a year ago. If the conditions deem necessary, we will make sure the grounds are evacuated by dawn. We will be expecting you in approximately a half an hour. Please apparate to the gates.”

The silvery form dissolved into the darkness.

Harry pushed himself up the door. Dragging his emotionally and physically worn body to his room, he slowly changed into a dry, clean auror uniform. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He knew what he had seen several months ago and it wouldn’t have lead to this. A decision had been made for all to follow; the plan had appeared to have been seamless. Unfortunately, fissures had been present all along, and now Harry’s world was cracking and crumbling around him.


***

Harry apparated to the front gates of Hogwarts, joining six other aurors. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was already speaking to them through the bars of the gate. Harry had planned to visit Hogwarts, but that would have been two weeks from now – when Ginny would be graduating. Now here he was standing in the pouring rain encompassed by the dark of the night peering up at the castle lit by torches.

“With whereabouts of Lucius unknown, there has been a go-ahead for the evacuation. We are in the process of notifying parents and guardians to be present at London’s Kings Cross.”

Professor McGonagall’s eyes lit up immediately when she found Harry had made his way to the group.

“Potter! Good to see you! I was just informing the others that there has been a subsequent breakout at Azkaban. Minister Shacklebolt and I agree that there will be an evacuation of the school to be carried out this very evening. The thestrals will be arriving shortly and the boats are already docked on the other side of the castle. Each of you will be responsible for evacuating a year of students.”

Harry wondered if he would see Ginny during the evacuation. He had seen her three weeks ago during her trip to Hogsmeade, however, he had not responded to a letter she had sent two days ago. He would have to tell her about his kiss with Hermione. Would it be tonight, and what exactly would he tell her? Harry, himself, didn’t know what he truly felt and what had provoked him to snog his best mate. He loved Ginny. He loved the Weasley family. If he lost the favor of one, he would also lose the other.

But was he harboring a flame for the brown-haired girl that was one of his closest mates? Her strawberry scent filled his memories and he inhaled the forest air deeply.

“Harry, are you all right?” Eva, a short, dark skinned auror with black spiky hair and big green eyes nudged him.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, did I miss something?” Harry whispered back.

“The headmistress was giving us our assignments. You are to wait with the seventh years. Your group will be the last ones to leave and the most prepared if there is a siege.”

Harry’s heart took a leap from his chest and into his throat. He would see Ginny.


***

Harry was standing in the front of the great hall speaking to the seventh years who were sitting at the long table to the right of him. The room had cleared out for the most part and it helped to see all familiar faces again. The ceiling was dark without stars and Harry could have sworn that he felt a few rain drops.

After he finished giving instructions he paused and waited for questions. Just a few steps from the headmaster’s podium, it felt strange to be back at his first true home. Memories from his first few years of finding new classes and playing Quidditch were rapidly mixing with ones of bodies strewn across the debris of the war torn castle. Was he happy to be back? Could he handle this?

With several more exchanges, the group began to talk amongst themselves and Harry propped himself on top of the table beside them. Undoing the clasp of his traveling cloak, he caught a flash of red from the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw a tall, slender girl with red rimmed eyes matching her scarlet hair that had been thrown up into a loose ponytail. Ginny was dressed in the Gryffindor uniform, unlike most of her classmates who were sporting their night robes.

Harry watched as Ginny stood silently in front of him, glaring at him with all of her might.

“I trusted you Harry James Potter. He trusted you.” She growled.

Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He did not want to deal with this right now. He sighed.

“Ron told you what happened,” he muttered.

“That you were practically shagging Hermione at St. Mungos? Yes. I had always wondered about you two. But you had always told me that you were only friends with her. When it was just you and her while you were looking for the last Horcruxes, I had doubts. You shared the same tent! You were together for months! You reassured me that you loved me. You told me you loved me!”

Her voice was rising rapidly and the room grew quiet to catch the display.

“Ginny, please can we talk about this somewhere else? I can come visit you tomorrow after you are home,” Harry pleaded. He placed a hand on her left arm.

Ginny backed away quickly from his grasp. Seething, her words were forced from her lips. “To feed me more lies Harry Potter? We are done. Maybe Ron will be a little more forgiving, that’s if he survives of course, SINCE HE HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED.”

Ginny’s face was crimson and tears were streaming down her face.

“Oh, one more thing,” Ginny leaned in towards Harry and snarled. “Since the death eaters probably want just you, like usual. Turn yourself in! Be a real hero; sacrifice yourself, for once, for someone else, like my brother! He would have done anything for you! You have nothing to lose, no girl, no family, no friends. Don’t you bother about Hermione, there’s more tramps were she came from!!”

With that, Ginny turned quickly and marched back to her group of friends at the far end of the table.

Harry sat in silence until it was finally the seventh year’s turn to leave the castle. Dawn was breaking the horizon as he followed the group to their carriages. When the last one was out of site, Harry made the decision to apparate to Hermione’s flat. She couldn’t have been kidnapped, he tried to reassure himself. It just couldn’t have happened. He had to see her; he had to be with her.

***

When Harry opened his eyes, he squinted in the strong sun. This was a dramatic difference from the past few days. Looking around he realized he was not in Hermione’s flat, he was outside of it. Facing the green, weather-aged wooden door, he blinked trying to make sense of it all. Something had prevented him from directly apparating into her flat. He began to pace back and forth quickly on her front stoop. Why couldn’t he get in? Had the ministry done this to protect her, or was this something else?

He would have to go to the ministry. Then, he would find Hermione’s and Ron’s kidnappers, sacrificing himself if he had to. He had obviously put his faith and trust in the wrong hands – but there was nothing he could do now. Ginny was right, what did he have to lose?

***

Hermione was looking over her shoulder every two minutes. People were after her and she had to be as cautious as possible, especially since she didn’t have her wand.

She walked rapidly along the tree lined pavement. A cool breeze played with the wisps of hair around her face. Only a few more minutes, and she would be at the ministry. What would she say? Would she just walk in and announce that she hadn’t been kidnapped, just trapped in her own home?

Her spirits began to lift as she saw the building the ministry was housed in across the street. Hermione waited until the cars cleared so she could safely cross.

“Ouch! Hey!”

Hermione jumped as a paper folded like an origami bird hit her in the side of the face. Looking around for the perpetrator, she let the paper fall to the ground. Surprised to see no one at all, Hermione realized that she had just missed her chance to cross the street.

“Please hurry.” Hermione coaxed the traffic under her breath. She gathered her loose hair and twisted it into a new ponytail.

Looking down, the folded paper was no longer at her feet. Shrugging, she turned to glance down the street, once again being hit with the paper.

“What the…”

Exasperated was an understatement. It could not possibly be windy enough to be assaulted by a piece of paper. She reached down to grab the origami bird and felt it flutter in her hands. She had never seen anything like this before.

Opening it slowly to determine how it had been made, Hermione noticed it was not a paper, but a cloth, much like a handkerchief. It had a smeared inscription on the inside.

Squinting, to make out the writing, she read it to herself.


Hermione,

Where ever you are right now, I pray that you are safe. Please forget the wrong that I have done. After this event comes to light with hopefully a positive outcome, help me leave behind some reasons to be missed. Don’t resent me Hermione. Keep me in your memories.


Hermione frantically scoured the makeshift letter again. More had been written, but she could not make it out. The ink on the cloth had been too badly smudged.

She turned it over to check the other side. It was blank.

Who had written her this letter?

Chapter Five: Sitting Duck

Sitting Duck

Neither Harry nor Ron stopped by later that day.
Hermione fell in and out of a light sleep for several hours, waking many times to the sound of footsteps in the hall. Watching the door through partially open eyes, she longed for her two close friends.

Ron and Harry would walk in, arms around each others’ shoulders, laughing about a recent pick –up Quidditch game. Harry would tousle Ron’s red messy hair and Ron would turn and playfully punch Harry’s shoulder. Their eyes would find hers, and both would hurry to the bedside. Ron would sit beside her and Harry would pull up a chair. They would look her over, Ron pushing Hermione’s brown, curly hair from her face. They would realize that she was all right. After a few tense moments, the three of them would be happy again, smiling, falling into a close hug – just like the old times

Hermione glanced at the door. To no avail, the light tapping of shoes once again faded as quickly as they had arrived. As she rubbed her swollen eyes, a dull pain pushed its way to the surface and Hermione winced. As long as she was awake and feeling the pain of both her injuries and events of the morning, her friends would not return as she yearned for.

The dreary afternoon evolved into a dark and stormy night. The conditions outside seemed to mirror Hermione’s mood impeccably. Hermione had moved from the confines of her bed to her chair. Furiously chewing on her thumb nail, she was no longer gloomy and dejected, she was livid. How could she have made such a mistake?

Not only was she ashamed for her earlier actions, she could no longer envision a time when she would not feel awkward around her two best friends. She finally had her closest mates back in her life and she had spoiled any semblance of once again living “normal,” just like the old times. And now, she had also possibly ruined the relationship with her only close girl friend.

“Ouch!”

She had not been paying attention to her stress-induced actions. Noticing the blood running down her thumb, she stuck it in her mouth.

Grumbling to herself, Hermione reached for her wand. Much to her chagrin, the hospital gown she was wearing was lacking and didn’t have enough material to cover her fully, let alone provide for an extra pocket that might contain a wand. Remembering that St. Mungos didn’t allow patients to have wands, she rolled her eyes at her own inane behavior.

Another strong wave of displeasure slapped Hermione with a vengeance.

How did she ever get herself into this mess?

Hermione rose from the chair and knelt on the bed to look out the window pane. She could see three people passing by a street lamp, huddled under an unfortunately small umbrella. Pushing her hair behind her ears, Hermione sighed.

If she hadn’t been here at St. Mungos, she and Harry wouldn’t have kissed. If she hadn’t been in the explosion, she wouldn’t have been here. If she hadn’t had a rough day, they would have gone to a normal wizarding pub and not the café down the street. She wouldn’t have had a rough day if she hadn’t heard the nonsense from the bag lady in the park.

This was all a simple coincidence, right?

At that moment a flash of lightning reflected off the window pane causing Hermione to jump back. A loud clap of thunder soon followed. The sidewalk and road outside, currently being pelted with hail, was not surprisingly devoid of all human existence.

She had a hard time believing in fortune tellers or prophecies, even when one had involved Harry. Professor Trelawney, the Seer who had made the prediction about the “birth of a wizard with the power to vanquish Voldemort” had very rarely forecasted anything else correctly. The gift of true divination was not common. So how had this woman in the park happen upon them, with the direct intent of speaking to her, and to top it off, spit out a riddle about her supposed future?

Hermione replayed the riddle in her head.

Black, white, red. Love and hate are tricky things, so try not to end up dead. Thrice the gentlemen you will know, one will expire by your blow. As long as the secret is not kept, a lover, friend and enemy will be set.

Black, white, and red could very possibly relate to the “thrice the gentleman,” but how? Hermione ran through various combinations of possibilities with the men that she knew. Names, re-ordering the letters, abbreviations, different languages. Perhaps the colors didn’t represent the gentlemen.

“Black, white, red...” Hermione repeated it out loud this time. She let her mind wander beyond the backdrop of the window pane.

Hermione gasped.

“Could it possibly be that obvious?” Once again speaking to herself.

Hair color was the distinct contrast of the golden trio, besides the fact that they consisted of two guys and one girl. How had she not seen this before? Hermione’s breathing accelerated. Had she discovered the players that the riddle had been suggesting?

Harry had such dark brown hair that it could be considered black. Ron has hair the color of fire. But what about the white hair?

She closed her eyes to concentrate. White hair! A lingering memory came to the forefront. A familiar light tracing of cold fingers against her jaw line, the warm breath against her neck, the soft white blonde hair tickling her cheek. Hermione’s face turned crimson.

Her eyes fluttered open as she shrieked.

A dark hooded figure was staring back at her through the window. Hermione stumbled backwards off the bed and fell to the floor.

St. Mungos was concealed behind an abandoned red-brick London department store called Purge and Dowse, Ltd. on a muggle street. A sign had been placed on the front that the store, stating "Closed for Refurbishment." No one should be able to see her as the windows were magically darkened. She probably had been overreacting. The person had just been looking at his drenched reflection.

Glancing back at the window, the figure was gone. Hermione decided that she needed some air. Surely the staff would allow that. Hermione was set to be discharged tomorrow morning, so she’d be fine just walking in the court yard, using the overhang for shelter.

Slowly, staggering back to her feet, she realized she had grown weak during the past few days of bed rest. Regaining her balance, Hermione searched for something, anything to put over her hospital gown. Finding some slippers in a basket underneath her bed, Hermione grabbed her top blanket and threw it around her shoulders.

“I can only imagine how I look right now.” She muttered, flattening her hair with her hands. Peering around the room one last time with hopes of seeing an overlooked robe, a deafening boom reverberated through room. The overhead lights flickered with a fading desperation and subsequently went out.

Hermione couldn’t help but feel a twinge of uneasiness. Shaking back her troubled thoughts, she regained her composure.

“So much for being a magical hospital! My luck! Hopefully I don’t see any black cats, not for my sake – but theirs. I wouldn’t want them to have seven years of bad luck for just crossing my path!”

Tightening the blanket around her shoulders, Hermione took a deep breath. Pushing her door open, she peered both ways and slowly shuffled into the pitch black hall.

***

The rain was pouring down in cold, icy sheets. Puddles were turning into small lakes in the courtyard of the hospital. Lightning lit the sky just long enough for Draco to notice a paper cup float past him.

Sitting on a bench shivering violently, the young man was soaked to the core. After being discharged, he hadn’t apparated to his flat as instructed. Instead, he came outside to subject himself to the harsh elements. With conditions such as these, Draco was able to be truly alone.

Silently questioning the need for his drenched jacket, Draco slid off his pea coat, guarding his sore arm. Rubbing his hands together, he caught a glimpse of a snake’s head peering out at him from below his left white sleeve. As black as onyx, the tattoo was slightly risen and appeared to be slithering back and forth underneath his skin.

Draco closed his eyes and attempted to hear the new message that had been communicated.
He immediately felt sick. Hunching over, Draco wrapped his arms around his stomach and began to dry heave. A feeling of lightheadedness overtook him. Unable to stop himself, Draco rolled forward off of the bench and into the frigid, muddy water below.

“Malfoy?!?”

He heard a familiar voice yell from the door leading out to the courtyard.

Pushing himself up to his knees, slowly, he looked up. Through the blinding rain, he could not identify his caller.

“Go Away! I am fine.” He called out unsteadily as the violent tremors had taken over his body again.

“To bloody hell you are fine!”

He heard the sound of splashing feet head toward him. Wiping the dirt from his face he struggled to get up. He successfully made it back up to the bench and was now strongly contemplating disapparating from the spot.

His caller was about a foot away from him now in a gown and holding what looked to be a blanket over her head. While only being out in the rain for a few moments, she stood there completely soaked. Her long eyelashes batting away the rain drops and her long brown hair was sticking to her face.

“Gra - Granger?” He sat there, stuttering through his chattering teeth. He gawked. The gown no longer left anything to the imagination.

“DRACO MALFOY! What are you doing here?! What are you doing out here?!”

“Whoa, Wha -What?” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

“Do I need to repeat myself again, or should I grab a pencil and parchment and spell it out for you? If we stay out here any longer we will both get pneumonia and die!”

Her voice was rising quickly, but he couldn’t tell if it was because she was angry, worried, scared, or a combination of the three. Hermione was watching him carefully, with an unknown thought playing behind her deep brown eyes.

“Granger, if you kn - know what’s good for you, then let me be.” Draco gave her his best snarl despite his shuddering.

“No.”

Much to his surprise, Hermione shook her head and quietly took the blanket that she had been shielding herself with and slung it over his shoulders. She blinked at him.

“Now would you follow me inside, please? Because I would prefer not to have the guilt of knowing I let someone die outside in the cold rain, even if he is a heartless snake.”

Her comment drifted from her lips as if she was inviting him to a dinner party, but her name for him stung his soul. He flinched unexpectedly.

“Thanks. Well then a little he -help here, Granger?”

Draco lifted his shaking hand up to Hermione, and she pulled him off of the bench. Letting go immediately once he was standing and stable, she hurriedly made her way back the door. Draco followed a few steps behind her.

Upon reaching the overhang, Draco felt a surge of new energy pulsating through the dark mark on his arm. He groaned, unable to decipher the new significance of the pain and fervently pulled at his sleeve to cover his dark mark.

“I can’t believe you were sitting out there in the cold rain!”

He heard her say from ahead as she made her way through the entrance. She stopped suddenly, staring inside the building.

“Out of all the places you could possibly be, you are at St. Mungos? Why are you here? And in the rain! What has gotten into you? I think you need to see a healer!”

He held himself tightly looking down at his feet. Should he even bother answering her onslaught of questions? Harry was right. She did not remember what truly happened during the explosion. He looked at the slim brunette with her wet hair cascading over her shoulders and her hands over her hips. Her gown was tied tightly behind her.

She twisted slightly, and eyed him over her left shoulder. She appeared hesitant.

“I hope they have gotten the lights back on though, or it might be hard to find one.”

“Granger. What did yo -you say?”

Hermione turned fully now and watched him suspiciously. Something was really bothering her.

“I was saying that you need to see a healer. Malfoy, why are you really here?”

“No, not what I was asking. You said the power is out?” Draco spoke in a low voice.

Hermione began to laugh nervously.

“Are you serious? You are afraid of the dark? How long have you been sitting out in that rain? Have you completely lost your marbles?”

“Damn it.” Draco felt the return of uneasiness fill the pit of his stomach.
He took a step towards her and spoke again in a hushed tone.

“Granger, we have to lea -leave. “ He wished he would stop shaking.

Hermione’s laughs cut short. Her eyes grew wider as she began to nervously pull on her hair.

“What? Malfoy, I am a patient here, if you haven’t noticed,” gesturing to her gown. She narrowed her eyes at him in an accusatory fashion.

“I am in no position to leave here. Even if I was, why would I leave with you?”

He lifted his right hand and placed it on her cheek, giving her the most innocent and sincere look he could muster at the moment.

“Please trust me. I really can’t explain right now. What I do know is that we have to leave this place now. Are you strong enough to get us out of here?”

Hermione relaxed. Bringing her left hand up to her face, she slipped it over his. Without a moment’s notice, she took her other hand and slapped Draco hard across the face.

“Ouch! Why the hell did you do that?” Draco forced a loud whisper and pulled his hands to his stinging face.

“I don’t know what has gotten into you, Draco Malfoy. Whatever it is, I sure don’t like it.” Hermione glared at him and took a half step back through the door and into the dark hall.

Draco should have known she would act like this. This was Hermione Granger, not one of those simple minded girls he could always have his way with.

Obviously, Hermione wasn’t going to go for a sweet Draco. He rolled his eyes as they were wasting precious time. He thought for a second and held his breath. To get her to leave with him, he was going to have to tell her.

“Actually, you have to do this for me. You are in debt to me,” he shot back at her, controlling his tremors.

Hermione whirled around. “What did you just say?!”

He had the full attention of the brown haired girl.

“I said that you are in debt to me. I was the one who saved you from the explosion,” he hissed.

Hermione’s face fell and a nervous air returned. She spoke in a soft monotone voice.

“No you didn’t. Harry did.”

Draco’s original plan was to not have anyone know that he had saved Hermione, besides him and Harry. It would put too many things at risk. Despite all of this, he did enjoy finally taking the credit of his one good deed.

“That is what he told you, I suppose.” Draco took a step closer to Hermione.

She wasn’t blinking, and as far as he could tell, she wasn’t breathing either. He gave her a crooked smile. Draco was good at this.

“He said he told you that he used the “Accio” spell to retrieve you. But you’re a smart girl. You and I both know that you cannot “call” someone. If that was the case, one of the Dark Lord’s followers would have acquired Harry and killed him even before Voldemort regained power.”

Draco watched as Hermione’s fallen face turned into one of horror and confusion.

“Without any more questions – we need to get out of here. Trust me, will you?”

Draco watched intently as the shell shocked Hermione walked towards him. Reaching out her now shaking hands, she grabbed both of his in one quick movement.

He heard her utter, “Lord, please help me.”

Pushing herself against him, Draco felt her body heat through the wet gown. His shaking subsided and he closed his eyes.

Wishing that the moment could last forever, Draco began to feel the familiar pull of apparition. Before he knew it, they were gone.

***

The two travelers landed unceremoniously on a wooden floor.

“Where are we?” Malfoy asked.

Hermione opened one eye to survey her surroundings. It looked like both of them were in one piece. A small part of her wished she would have left by herself, or that he would have gotten partially lost in the process. Closing her eye again, she remained on the floor.

“Well?” Her guest prompted her again. She heard him shift to his feet and began to explore the room.

“It’s my flat in London.” She groaned. The side by side apparition took a lot of energy; energy she did not know she had. Still not completely sure why she decided to follow Malfoy’s orders, she felt ignoring the situation was probably her best bet right now.

“It’s a pretty nice place, Granger. Despite all of these muggle inconveniences, of course.” She heard a dry laugh followed by the sound of a light switch.

“Wands always beat the competition. Incendio!”

The fireplace in front of her came to life, which felt good against her cold body.

“Granger, are you all right?” Malfoy walked up to her. He nudged her with his shoe.

She nodded, but internally, she was wildly shaking her head. No she was not fine!

Prophecy, explosions, kissing a friend and hurting another, finding out she was possibly lied to by the friend she kissed, and now she had trusted a known enemy. She was a lot of things right now, but definitely not fine.

“Do you want help up?” His voice was quieter this time.

“Sure, Malfoy why not? Now that we’re good buddies, why don’t you just stick around and stay awhile? We’d roast marshmallows, and then you could sleep in my bed with me. We’d chat for hours, like old times.” Her words dripped with sarcasm.

She heard Malfoy choke. He was staring at her in a way that made her very self-conscious. Looking down, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest attempting to hide anything that might be visible. She blushed.

Malfoy bent over her and scooped Hermione into his arms and made his way over to her couch in the back of the living room. This surely was not Malfoy! Maybe he got hypothermic in the rain and lost his brain. What time was it? She was beyond tired! And she truly enjoyed the feeling of being carried.

Catching a side glimpse at Malfoy, she realized that he had taken off his white shirt and draped it on the floor in front of the fire. He was quite striking. The flames from the fire danced along the side of his face and his silvery eyes shone in the darkened room. Malfoy set her down on her couch and stood in front of her. His wet blonde hair was spiky as he must have just run his hand through it. Without thinking, Hermione’s eyes dropped.

“Like what you see Granger?” She saw a smirk creep upon his face and he cocked his right eye brow. He watched her intently.

She immediately turned her head towards the foot of the couch and blushed again deeply.

“Not in a million years, ferret face. You remember that nickname from school? You still look like one.”

“Well despite what I look like, the viewing show is over. I am afraid I have to leave.”

Malfoy’s smirk disappeared as he glanced back at the clock over the mantle. He paced the length of the room and moved closer to the fire.

“What? Where are you going? You still never told me why we left!” Hermione sat up and looked back to the figure facing the fire.

“I told you that I couldn’t explain and I am not sorry for that. You are going to have to stay here a while though, for which I am sorry.”

“You can’t make me stay here! But if you could, why would you be sorry about that?”

Hermione’s past few days had been a whirlwind and she gulped. She was on the verge of tears.

“In fact, unfortunately, I can.” Malfoy said in a flat tone. He took a deep breath and removed his wand from his back pocket. Turning quickly, appearing to be in a duel, he aimed his wand at Hermione.

“Incarcerous!”

A small translucent rope snaked out of the wand and slid around Hermione, binding her tightly to her couch.

“MALFOY!” Hermione cried out. She had made another mistake. This one might have possibly cost her, her life. Perhaps Malfoy would be the one to hurt her? She didn’t have her wand, she couldn’t kill him first.

“Please don’t kill me… or hurt me,” she pleaded. Tears began to flow from Hermione’s eyes.

Malfoy’s eye brows flew up and then a sense of realization formed on his handsome pale face. He frowned. “I don’t think I’m going to be the one that tries to kill you Granger. Just, please, don’t murder me in the process. Unless, of course, I deserve it.”

Hermione struggled against the magical rope. With a red face and blood shot eyes, she felt defeated. She had been the smartest in her class back at Hogwarts and all the way through her training. Why had she trusted this back stabber? Who and what was she supposed to believe anymore?

“So if you don’t intend to harm me, why do you have me tied up?”

She had no idea what was going on, and everything in her life was no longer making sense. So what if he had saved her from the explosion? What was she going to lose if she spoke her mind? Hermione’s pulse quickened and she was fuming.

“You know, you shouldn’t be free right now, Malfoy! You are as evil as your father! You deserve to be in Azkaban!”

Malfoy walked up to her slowly, and then lifted her chin harshly. His eyes were full of anger.

“You WILL stay here. Don’t make any stupid decisions while you are tied up. The binding will wear off in a few hours.”

With that, Malfoy stepped back and silently watched her for a few moments. Hermione thought she saw the anger in his eyes replaced with sorrow. Before she fully registered this, however, Malfoy closed his eyes and disappeared.

Hermione sat in silence as she stared at the one thing that remained in her guest’s absence.

Malfoy’s right foot, just below his ankle, sat in front of the fireplace. This was too much for her to handle. Hermione tried to scream, but nothing left her throat.

Malfoy had not been strong enough to apparate. Hermione looked away from the dismembered part. Where had he been going? Well, he wouldn’t get very far once he arrived. Did a person bleed if they left a part behind? All Hermione remembered about apparition class was that Ron left one of his eye brows during an attempt to apparate. With just one eye brow, it had taken a series of complex spells just to get the two reunited.

Hermione felt all of the events from the day hit her at once. The arrival of the waterfall of tears was not far to follow. She felt naked without her wand which was still at St. Mungos. All she could do was wait for the spell to wear off. Then what would she do?

****

Hermione must have dozed off.

She was suddenly awakened by the roar of a siren bellowing from her fire place. Moving to get a better look, Hermione found herself still bound by the magical ropes.

In front of the dampened fire was a holographic image of a tall black man, muscles pulling tightly at the black suit he was wearing. She immediately recognized him. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt, the minister of magic. The minister stood there patiently as he stared ahead into the room. Hermione had never had a problem with the holographic announcements before but at this moment she wished that he was not a hologram and could actually see her tied to the couch.

“Attention Citizens of the Ministry,” He began gravely. Hermione’s heart dropped to her stomach.

“I apologize for the hour of this message. However, there have been two significant events that I need to report."

“To begin, St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries has been attacked. Death Eaters, followers of the late dark lord, are believed to be responsible. Witnesses claim to have seen Draco Malfoy leading this assault, however their motive is unclear. It appears that all have been accounted for, whether dead or alive, with the exception of Ms. Hermione Granger and Mr. Ronald Weasley. These citizens, if you remember, were recently hurt in a fire at a local pub, but most importantly, paramount in the destruction of the dark lord. We have reason to believe that these two have been taken hostage by the Death Eaters.”

“To continue, there has also been a break out at Azkaban. Lucius Malfoy, as well as two others, were discovered missing from their cells late this evening. Extra security has been called in to ensure that the location of the breach will be discovered and will be dealt with.”

“At this time, if anyone has any information on the whereabouts of the father son team, Lucius and Draco Malfoy, any Death Eaters, or suspicious dark activities, please contact the Auror department of the Ministry of Magic immediately."

“Our thoughts and prayers go out to all of the families touched by these attacks. Evil will not be tolerated. We will notify you of any updates as we receive them."

Minister Shacklebolt nodded and disappeared immediately upon the completion of his speech.

“Ron!”

She cried out towards the fireplace, knowing that no one would hear her. Moving against the magical ropes, she began to panic. What would happen to him? She could only imagine what horrors he must be going through. If she had been truly kidnapped, maybe they would have been kept together?

Hermione felt a sickening feeling begin to chew at her insides. How did she even know that the Death Eaters planned to keep him alive? If she had stayed, would she have been taken too, and possibly killed? She hoped that Ron’s last memory of her would not be that of Harry and her kissing.

Her head began to spin. She couldn’t remember when she had last eaten. Would these ropes hold her up if she passed out? Hermione felt like she would cry again, but no tears came.

It had seemed like decades had passed since that morning’s activities. Hermione looked for the clock, but the room was too dark for her to read it. She hoped that Malfoy was not lying about the rope spell fading after a few hours. No one would think of looking for Hermione here, at her own flat, after the St. Mungos attack.

All Hermione could do was sit there in a pool of her own disturbing thoughts and memories. She lowered her head and closed her eyes for sleep. Much to her dismay, the events of the past few days were waiting for her and began to play out on the back of her eyelids.

What was she supposed to believe anymore? Had she been saved by Harry? Malfoy claimed to have saved her, which was backed up by Ron from the conversation in the hospital. However, mister savior himself then turned around and made her a prisoner in her own home. Because of Malfoy’s actions, Hermione was now a sitting duck for the Death Eaters, if and when they decided to retrieve her.

After auror training, both Harry and Ron had come back changed, darker, less emotional. When they returned, Ron was more hesitant around Hermione and Harry and Ron were continually bickering. Now that she thought about it, Harry and Ron had been tense with each other since training. And what was this, Malfoy saying that he had spoken with Harry? Since when does Harry and Malfoy confide in each other? Maybe Malfoy had kidnapped Harry?

With her life turned upside down, Hermione could trust no one. Her life was in danger. Pondering the notion of who would be more dangerous, she thought hard about the Death Eaters, as well as the three men mentioned in the prophecy.

Hermione sighed.

Now, more than ever, she had an overwhelming feeling that the prophecy was truly real. Hermione also began to accept the fact that although one man might love her, one of the three was also very dangerous. She had an inkling about who would earn that title, but was she in the mood to gamble with her life? Hermione had always beaten the odds before, but perhaps her luck had just run out.

Chapter Four: The Raven

The Raven

“It’ll be fine. I will go in and get us a table, no worries.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned towards the café. As she stomped across the cobblestones, the street lamps began to dim. Surveying her surroundings quickly, Hermione picked up her step.

Just as she was reaching the handle to the door of the café, a tall man, standing inside, moved to hold it open for her. Looking up to give thanks to the stranger, she stared into the grey eyes of a man that she all knew too well.

Malfoy raised his hand, lightly tracing his cold fingers against her jaw bone. Keeping her gaze, he slowly lowered his head.

“You. It is you that I have been dreaming about, looking for.” He whispered in her ear.

Hermione felt chills run down her spine. Her heart started pounding and her face flushed. She pulled back from Malfoy, once again catching his eyes.

“Draco?” She heard herself murmur.

Malfoy winked and then closed his eyes.

Hermione watched in horror as his skin began to melt, bubbling and popping as it slid off his bones. With Malfoy’s skin gone, his eyes shown again and his jaw opened to speak, yet the voice leaving his mouth was no longer his.

“Black, white, red. Love and hate are tricky things, so try not to end up dead. Thrice the gentlemen you will know, one will expire by your blow. As long as the…”

Hermione heard a person begin to scream. The skeleton began to fade in front of her, yet the screaming became louder and louder. For some reason she couldn’t make the piercing noise stop. She couldn’t make herself stop screaming.

***

“Hermione, wake up… HERMIONE! WAKE UP!”

Hermione felt someone sitting on the bed next to her, with their hands gripping her shoulders.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Blurry at first, Hermione made out a familiar figure with tousled brown hair, his face only a foot from her own.

“HARRY!!” She threw herself forward, miscalculating the distance. She nearly knocked him over. Encasing him in a tight hug, Hermione began to sob.

“I am so glad you are here, Harry. I am so glad you came back.”

Carefully pulling her off of him, Harry moved Hermione’s hair out of her face and wiped the tears off her cheek with his thumb.

Hermione smiled at her gracious friend and took his hands in hers. Looking around the small room, she noticed a window smeared with rain behind her bed. A wooden chair was sitting only a few feet to the right of her bed with a matching coffee table. To her left, a picture hung on the wall, displaying a prairie scene on a bright summer day. Other than those items, the room was empty.

She sat staring at the picture, noticing in the distance two young children with red hair laughing and playing in the field. Her smile fell as she was flooded with memories.

“Harry?” Hermione asked worriedly.

Her friend, who had been rubbing her hands, looked back up at her. His tired face, lightly peeling, had an old bruise overlapping his lightning shaped scar.

All she could get out was one word, “Ron.”

Through his glasses, Harry’s green eyes studied her for a moment.

“He is here at St. Mungos. Two rooms down from yours, actually. Got pretty banged up from the explosion ‘Mione. Took a hard hit to the head I think. Since he was at the scene for awhile, he was taken to a muggle hospital first. His mum, with the help of the ministry, got him transferred here though, after a day.” Harry gave a gloomy smile.

Hermione had been told of the explosion from the healer, yet it still felt like an odd concept since she had no memory of it. No memory, but I have the battle wounds to prove it, she thought to herself. Her mind began to race again and she felt dizzy. Lying back down in her bed, she rubbed her face.

“Harry, how did I get here?”

“You don’t remember?”

She looked up at Harry who had removed his glasses and was running his hand through his hair.

“No. The last thing I remember is walking towards the café, and then ending up here, not being able to open my eyes. I had heard someone here when I woke up, but they left. The healer told me I was brought here by side – by – side apparition? Don’t think Ron ever mastered that one.” Hermione chuckled at the memory of Ron learning how to apparate at Hogwarts.

“So, why did you leave me?”

Harry’s eyes popped up, catching hers. Putting his glasses back on his face he took a deep breath.

“Hermione, I would never leave you. I haven’t left you since I got here.”

Hermione watched as Harry’s face fell into a pained expression. With all of his losses during his life, she immediately felt bad for asking him this. Just when they thought they could live in peace after their time at Hogwarts, bad luck has seemed to once again find the golden trio.

“I am sorry Harry. Thank you for saving my life.”

Hermione’s eyes began to tear up again. What would she do if she ever lost Harry? From that bloody prophecy to this horrible explosion, she was glad to have her best mate by her side.

Wiping her tears from her face, she noticed that Harry was still intently watching her. Looking as if he was about to say something, Hermione sat up and leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek. Before reaching her destination, however, she felt lips crashing into hers.

Hermione hesitated for a moment. Did she like Harry as more than a friend? Would this complicate things? As the kiss began to seem more urgent, her mind went from panic to passion. Without thinking further, Hermione returned Harry’s kiss. Feeling him push her back in the bed, Hermione slipped her arms around his strong shoulders while threading her fingers through his hair. At this point, all lucid thought went out the window, but she didn’t care. Hermione closed her eyes and felt Harry’s kisses move from her mouth to her neck and she gasped with pleasure.

“Harry … POTTER!!! First Malfoy... then you?? YOU!! THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO MESS WITH RONALD WEASLEY!! OUT HERE NOW IF YOU ARE MAN ENOUGH!!”

Hermione’s eyes flew open at the sound of Ron’s screeching. She watched Harry retract quickly and turn towards his accuser.

“Now mate, calm down. This is not what you think. Maybe you need to sit down?” Harry gestured shakily to the chair next to the bed. That was the last thing Hermione wanted; currently she wished she could become invisible.

“TO HELL I WILL CALM DOWN!” Ron roared, while steadying himself on the door frame. Hermione noticed that Ron was heavily bandaged with multiple fading scars that were catching the fluorescent light from overhead.

“Ron, please.” Her voice came out against her will in a hoarse whisper.

Ron’s glare immediately softened as his gaze drifted from Harry to the brown haired girl covered up to her chin in the sheets.

Still flushed, his voice came out quieter, yet very choppy. “He. You’re fine. Didn’t hurt you? Thank god.”

“What?? Who? Harry?” Hermione was very confused. “No, my face was hurt when I hit the ground from the explosion... I think... but Harry saved me” her voice trailed to Harry who was now standing to the left of the bed, facing Ron.

Ron’s face paled. “Is that what he told you? Harry told you???” Backing up from the door way, Ron appeared confused as he turned to watch Harry. “But she was with Malfoy, Harry. I saw it. I told you. You didn’t know where she had gone”

There was stillness in the room as everyone waited for Harry to speak.

Ron thinks Malfoy had been there? Something was nagging at Hermione’s thoughts. My dream! Of course! Malfoy had been at the café with me … acting more than cordial… then he spoke the riddle and turned into a corpse. Can’t exactly plug that into the conversation. Hermione frowned, wishing that she could remember Harry saving her from the explosion.

The sound of Harry’s voice broke Hermione from her internal conversation. Still turned away from her, Harry began to speak.

“Ron. I had been following you after you turned from me. I saw behind you, through the window… the gas stove exploded. Hermione was closer to the building then you. I summoned Hermione with the “Accio” spell, and apparated as soon as she got to me.”

“You can “call” someone with the “Accio” spell??” Hermione furrowed her brows. She never remembered reading that one could do to that to another person.

“Hermione, I will stop by later.” Harry turned and gave her a small smile, a combination of misery and worry filled his green eyes.

She watched as Harry fled the room to join Ron in the hall. Hermione sat alone in the room, staring at the door.

“What is happening to my life?” Hermione said out loud. Hoping that she had dreamt this entire encounter, she rolled to her side and pulled the sheets over her head – wishing that sleep would find her again. “Anything is better than this.” Remembering her dream, however, she added “maybe not.”

***

Ron heard Hermione’s door shut and footsteps close in behind him. The hall was empty, and all the doors were shut down the hall.

“I don’t even think I know you anymore, Potter.” Ron grumbled as he leaned his shoulder against the door to push it open.

Harry grabbed the handle and pulled against Ron’s weight, successfully opening the door and shoved Ron inside.

“Oww!! Still healing here!” Ron yelped as he stumbled to his bed.

Harry drug the chair from the corner of the room to the bed.

“Just wait until Ginny hears about this.” Ron spat as he propped up the pillows on the bed. “She’s always wondered about you and Hermione. Frankly, so did I. Well – until you put your intentions on show for everyone to see. I thought you were my best mate!!”

He looked at Harry, who was now sitting in the chair, his head bent over in his hands.

“You are not perfect, Ron. Shagging Lavender?” Harry paused to recollect his thoughts. “I will tell Ginny. It is something that I must do. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I am truly sorry.” Harry said sadly.

“Tell her and have all the fun doing it? I think not!” Ron said crossly. “You have changed. I have seen it and I am surprised Hermione hasn’t. There is something going on with you. I know Malfoy was there, I saw it with my own eyes.”

Harry shook his head and sat up dejectedly. “No Ron, you hit your head pretty hard. Everything happened exactly like I said.”

“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? WHY ARE YOU LYING TO ME HARRY?” Ron yelled throwing his covers off of his bed.

“It has to be this way Ron. I can’t tell you why. I am sorry.”

“It has to be this way Ron. I can’t tell you why.” Ron mimicked in a high pitch voice. “Is this some auror bull? Is it? Did you tell Hermione that I am not a real auror, that I wasn’t good enough? Is that why she is so hesitant to touch me, to kiss me?” Ron’s voice began to creep louder again.

“Auror liaison ... the title someone gets when they get cut from the training but are too popular to let the wizarding world know? Send them to Azkaban and have them be a glorified guard?? I was part of the golden trio Harry! Have you forgotten?? It is hell in Azkaban. People go crazy. Your bloody god father told you so when he spent over ten years there.”

“Or” Ron’s voice fell to a whisper “or maybe you have truly gone to the dark side? Is that your secret Harry? Is it?”

Ron felt a sharp pain rip through his face. Harry had punched him square in the nose.

“You are bloody lucky that they took my wand away when I got checked in here.” Ron said as he pulled his hands away from his nose covered in blood.

Harry glared at Ron for a moment, not saying a word. His hands were balled up into fists and his breathing had picked up. Slowly relaxing his right hand, Harry pulled his wand from under his pant leg and with a flick of his wrist, Ron’s nose clicked into place.

“Don’t you dare think that this fixes things Potter. Just wait till Ginny finds out about your escapades. Our friendship is officially over. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. People will know.”

Harry rose cautiously and turned to the door. “People will know you hit your head Ron – and if you want to go further, they might just have to know how you failed at being an auror too.” Harry made his way out the door and closed it lightly.

Ron didn’t see the tears in Harry’s eyes as he dragged himself out of the hospital into the pouring rain.

***

It was dark outside when the young man awoke to a tapping on his window. Sitting up, confused at first, he unlocked the pane and ushered the bird in. Landing on the bed, the man slowly took the letter from the owl. Upon receiving the parchment, the bird took flight and immediately disappeared.

The young man cautiously opened the letter and scanned it quickly.

My Dear Raven,

I apologize for your recent maladies, I did not intend for them to happen as you surely can understand. I am overjoyed that you have graciously accepted my offer, my son, yet slightly disappointed that it took you this much time. You will receive more communications shortly. This message will destroy itself in one minute.

Yours Truly,

L.M.

Reading it one more time, he balled up the parchment and threw it against the wall.

With a resounding “crack,” shreds of paper flew up like confetti and dissolved in the air.

The young man felt sick to his stomach. He could see no way around it now, everything was already in place.

Chapter Three: Into the Night

Into the Night

Ron glared crossly at his shoes; almost sure steam was rising from his ears. Harry has no right to be angry with me! So what? We were late, but he has my bloody sister! Always pulling his “high and mighty” attitude. I wouldn’t mind for once... FOR ONCE not having to deal with him.

Sensing Hermione grow uncomfortable beside him as she unclasped her hand from his, she broke the awkward silence, “It’ll be fine. I will go in and get us a table, no worries.”

He could hear the touch of anger in her voice as her footsteps hit the cobblestone street. Throwing his head back up to look at Harry, a glare of equal intensity was waiting for him.

“Great. Well done mate. Well done. Now we are going to have a swell evening.” Harry’s words were dripping with sarcasm as he clapped his hands.

“Clear off Harry! Why the hell didn’t you do anything!? If you would have just kept our seats, we would be eating right now!” The anger was radiating from Ron’s shoulders in rapid waves.

“She is not mine…nor should she be yours. I heard about your escapades with Ms. Brown last night.” Harry spat at him. “If I were you, I would be going after Hermione right now and attempting to be at least one fifth of the proper gentleman that she deserves!”

Feeling his face grow to the color of his hair, Ron’s mind emptied of all possible come backs. He turned to catch up with Hermione. Last night was one rough night, he thought to himself. If only people knew how much worse than hell Azkaban really was!

Ron stopped short in his tracks. There, a few feet in front of him Malfoy had a strong grasp on Hermione’s wrist.

“THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO MESS WITH RONALD WEASLEY!!” Ron yelled as he began to move again. His rants however were no match with the deafening sound of an explosion that immediately followed. Watching the ball of fire roll over the figures at the café door on a collision course with him, all Ron could do was fall to the ground and pray that a mistake was the not the last thing he made of his life.

***

“Where did you expect me to be, Malfoy?” Granger’s expression had immediately fallen into one of annoyance, something that didn’t suit her pretty little face.

It was at that moment that Draco heard what he had been waiting for all evening, not a phrase commonly spoken during the ordinary muggle meal. The only question, why?

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath as the realization hit him. He grabbed his wand from his left pocket and shoved the girl to the ground. Covering her with his body, he heard himself yelling the first thing that came to mind,

“PROTEGO INCENDIA!”

Watching the flames pass overhead, Draco could still feel the intense heat from the fire ripping through the what-once-was café. If he didn’t act quickly, they would be without oxygen before he knew it. It would be tough to explain to Granger the need to apparate with only seconds to spare, he didn’t even know if she was conscious.

Feeling dread overwhelm his body, Draco realized that he would have to attempt a side by side apparition. Knowing that if he wasn’t strong enough, one or both of them could end up half here and half there – not suitable for daily activities such as walking, talking, or living. What would his father say about this, Draco Malfoy saving a mud-blood? What would his father say about a lot of things? Closing his eyes tightly, he grabbed a hold of the brown haired girl and focused as hard as he could, feeling himself being pulled many different directions into the darkness.

“Not here,” Draco said to the person that was strongly encased in his grip, “Not here.”

***

Hermione felt as if she had been sleeping for days, weeks maybe. Yet, she was as sore as if she had been hit by a truck. What had she been doing to feel like this? The last thing she had remembered was walking to the café near her home. She had been going to fetch a table for Harry and Ron…

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? She appears to be waking.” Hermione, unable to open her swollen eyes, heard a female voice a few feet from her bed. A chair scrapped against the floor and a trail of heavy footsteps faded from beside the bed and out the door.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. Who had been at her bed? If only these blasted eyes would open.

“Hermione dear, my name is Susan and I am your healer at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Are you in any pain?”

Her voice only coming out in a whisper, “If you think what happened to me was bad, you should have seen the other guy!” chuckling until it hurt, she realized she wasn’t in too much pain, whatever they gave her was actually working pretty well.

Susan laughed and continued, “You took a pretty hard fall to the ground during an explosion at a café in the East part of London. Do you remember that? Your face is quite swollen, but that should go down in a day with the spells that I’ve been using. The gentleman you were with apparated you here surprisingly well, considering the injuries and smoke inhalation you both sustained. If you had stayed at the scene any longer, you would have been burned beyond recognition like many that were less fortunate than you. Enough talking for now, you need to rest. More medicine for you coming right up!”

Before Hermione had a chance to argue she felt a warmth coursing through her veins. Harry must have come after me, Hermione thought. She doubted Ron would be able to do a side by side apparition. Harry must have left to see Ginny, but he had been the one by her side.

***

Harry awoke to a cloud of smoke and flames. Surprised to find his glasses still on his face, he realized he was against the wall of a pastry shop that had been behind him. Staggering to his feet, Harry tried to make sense of the view in front of him. Hermione! If only he had been watching her! He began frantically searching, scouring the ground of bodies and debris that lay outside of the café. Spitting and coughing, Harry drug himself back across the street to the shop. If by chance she had made it inside, he thought, she would have joined the piles of ashes, what was left of the poor souls inside.

Stricken with grief, Harry’s mind flew to Ron. A quiet rage grew inside of him. Hermione had been by his side throughout the whole war, never been selfish, never asked too much of anyone. Once again, pulling himself from the wall, Harry held his shirt over his nose and mouth, and looked around for the red head. Ten feet to his left, he found Ron sitting in a pool of blood on the cobblestone, methodically picking glass out of his skin.

“RON!!” Harry roared as he stormed over to him. “IF YOU HAD JUST BEEN A GENTLEMAN. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN YOU, NOT HER!”

Ron was working on an inch long piece of glass sticking out of his right hand and began to laugh. “Malfoy had her Harry.”

Watching his friend laugh, Harry’s anger turned to worry.

“Ron, listen to me. Hold still for a second.” Sirens could be heard in the distance. Harry knelt and removed his wand from underneath his pant leg and began siphoning the blood from the open wounds littered over Ron’s body. “Now I won’t be able to close the ones with glass in it but this should help. I will contact your mum and we will get you moved to St. Mungos after they see you at a muggle hospital.”

Having a punch drunk air about him, Ron put his bloody hand up to Harry’s face and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Hey Harry. Why weren’t you hurt in the explosion? Nothing but a few bumps and bruises? You know, it was you who really should have been in the café, not us. Yet it was you that ended up across the street, letting Hermione and me walk to our demise. Just wondering, that’s all.”

Ron refocused on the shards of glass in his arm that appeared to be calling his name.

“We need help over here!!” Harry called to the newly arrived medics. Two gentlemen ran to Ron and Harry stood up.

“Potter!”

Harry whirled around looking for the person who had forcibly whispered his name.

Catching the shadows of a dark figure in the alley between the pastry shop and the book store to its left, Harry began to jog through the street and hurriedly crossed the sidewalk.

“Potter” The man said again, much weaker this time. Stepping out of the shadows, the tall, thin man covered in soot coughed and held his left arm against his body.

“Malfoy?!? Where did you take her?”

“St. Mungos, where she needs to be. She was unconscious when I left her, but as you see, I must go back too.” Malfoy gestured to his arm that he was cradling.

Harry squinted at Malfoy, trying to read any ulterior motives. If only he had mastered Legilimens.

“You knew this would happen Malfoy. You were here, so why her?”

“You know very well the reason Potter.” Malfoy grimaced. “You were there.”

Harry stood in silence as he slowly acknowledged this fact.

“Now be a good Potter and save the day. Everyone knows how you do that so well. I only hope that this life you have chosen doesn’t bite you in the ass one day.”

With that, Harry watched Malfoy close his eyes and disappear with a loud “crack” into the night.

Chapter Two: Not Here

Not Here

“Harry, what do you think she meant?” Hermione sat there staring at him, furiously turning an apple in her hand.

Waking him up from a trance, Harry closed his slightly gaping mouth and looked down at the brown eyed girl.

“I dunno ‘Mione. The barmy maid probably had too many trips to the pub, I’d bet. Nothing to worry about, but I know you.” Winking at her, Harry poked around in his black leather bag and pulled out his lunch.

The two finished their meal in silence and Harry wondered if life could ever be normal for the golden trio. It had taken the wizarding world about a year to let Harry live a life as close to anonymity as he could get – which meant no longer gracing the pages of the Daily Prophet every day. These days though, almost two years after he left Hogwarts, his life had calmed down but the expectations were still overwhelmingly high. Hermione and Ron’s spot light had not shone nearly as long, but they, too, still had hundreds of adoring fans waiting around most corners. Something about this encounter was not sitting right with Harry, however. Primarily, due to the fact the old hags words sounded so much like a …

“A prophecy of me killing someone? You have GOT to be kidding me. Why would someone even be prophesizing about MY life?” Hermione grumbled as she was again lying on the blanket looking up at the sky. “That just proves she was off her trolley!”

Saying nothing, Harry watched the wind lightly play with the wisps of hair that had fallen out of Hermione’s pony tail. If the old hag was speaking the truth, Hermione had three guys on her plate – which she already knew, and she could end up being a murderer? Harry couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of this. He would just have to keep a closer eye on her. A concept that was not so unpleasant.

***

After attempting multiple times to concentrate on the stacks of parchment in front of her, Hermione grabbed her notebook from a desk drawer and began scribbling down what she remembered from lunch.

I am giving too much time to this bag lady, she growled in her thoughts. Black, white, red? What does that have to do with the rest of the riddle? Slamming down the notebook on the corner of her desk, Hermione sighed and went back to the parchment.

“Something got you all bothered Granger?” mocked Malfoy from beside her. Coffee in hand, the white blonde was peering down at the mess she had made of her desk. “You know we are allowed to converse on the cases if you are having so many issues. I promise the black plague I contracted back in school isn’t too contagious.”

Hermione fidgeted in her seat. Being in close proximity with Malfoy made her quite nervous. Snatching her wand out of her pocket, she flew up and pointed it at the young man’s chest.

“I am fine Malfoy. Let me be. Now!” Hermione yelled a little louder then she had intended as all the desks in the room were now occupied. The man’s hands with the coffee were now above his head and he wore a startled expression.

“All right, all right,” Malfoy backed up a foot and stopped. He lowered his hands and continued to watch her. Hermione’s breath quickened. It was the first time she had taken a good look at her coworker in a long while. Dressed all in white, his pale skin and hair blended in with his outfit. He had matured during the last years of Hogwarts and now towered over her with a lean but muscular build. Malfoy’s silvery grey eyes studied her as she stood there glaring at him.

“Granger.” Adjusting his tie, he lowered his head slightly to her and then turned to retreat to his desk.

“Who does he think he is, God?” Hermione mumbled and shook her head trying to slow her pulse. Glancing over at the notebook, she reviewed the lunch encounter again. Thrice the gentlemen you will know, one will expire by your blow. As long as the secret is not kept, a lover, friend, and enemy will be set. So what if the secret is kept? I feel like nothing ties together!

Sitting back in her chair, Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms. Usually she had no problems solving riddles…. as long as they weren’t about her.

Looking at her watch, she convinced herself that she deserved an early day with all the over time she had been putting in. Leaving the room to head towards the Floo Network, Hermione failed to notice the blonde man making his way back to her desk.

Picking up the open notebook Malfoy read what the brunette had scrawled on the paper. Repositioning himself on her desk, his face drew into a frown. Where did she get this prophecy from? This simply wasn’t going to do.

***

Hermione went straight from the fireplace to the black leather couch when she arrived at her flat in a muggle part of London. Grabbing a burgundy throw blanket, she covered herself awaiting some much needed sleep. Ron would be stopping by after six, when he got off of his 36 hr shift at Azkaban, and she couldn’t be happier.

Ron, an auror like Harry, had received a liaison position at the prison, in which he over saw the guards and the overall workings of Azkaban. With the Ministry no longer using Dementors, the Auror liaisons worked extremely long hours and even slept in newly fashioned quarters off one of the wings. So far there had been no break outs, and the wizarding world was quite pleased.

As far as Ron, Hermione, and Harry were concerned, training for their positions the year after the war had not allowed the friends to see each other very much. During that time, Hermione was either attending trials of death eaters or shadowing co workers for her new position. Besides returning to her flat to sleep, she had been living at the ministry. The boys, on the other hand, had been completing their training in many different countries, learning how to sleep, eat, and breathe being an auror. After the thirteen months of training had ceased, however, the three friends picked up where they had left off. Harry had, of course, gotten back together with Ginny and Hermione was hoping that a certain red head still fancied her.

“Wake up.”

“Ron??” Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. She waited for a response.

Hermione opened her eyes quickly to the sound, but found the room dimly lit. Frantically looking around, she barely made out a figure from the kitchen to her right. Drawing her wand she called out,

“Lumos!”

A well built freckle faced man with close cut red hair, dressed in all black, moved towards her with a small smile on his face.

“You git! You scared the hell out of me! Why didn’t you say anything??”

Sitting down next to her on the couch, Ron shrugged his shoulders. “Just trying to surprise you I guess. I apparated to the hall and got something to eat from your kitchen. I am starving!”

Turning on the light over head, via a switch behind her, she took a good long look at the handsome ginger.

“I don’t know what it is with you and my dad fancying muggle appliances,” he continued and gave her his big goofy smile.

“And for the millionth time your dad works in The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office and my parents were muggles.” Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. “So how was the shift? You look exhausted!”

“Knackered and famished! One of the inmates claimed ill and Lav - one of the healers, wanted me to go with her to make sure nothing dodgy was going on, we barely got a lick of sleep!”

“Lavender Brown works with you?!?” Hermione shrieked, catching Ron off guard.

“I thought I told you that already ‘Mione. After Fenrir got to her during the war, she spent a good while in the infirmary and decided to become a Healer. I don’t see her that much, but yes, she does work at Azkaban.” Ron finished frowning.

Hermione relaxed a bit and looked at her watch. “Goodness! It is almost eight! We were supposed to meet Harry at the three broomsticks half an hour ago!”

“I owled Harry when I got here. He said he wanted to avoid the wizarding crowd because of what happened ‘today’, so we are going to go to some muggle café near here. He wouldn’t tell me anything about today, though, told me to ask you.”

“Maybe after we get back, but I am starving as well,” she countered, hoping to change the topic.

“All right. I’ll lead the way.” Ron gave his trademark smile and marched out the door. Grabbing Hermione’s hand clumsily, they made their way a few blocks down the street to a little café which she loved to frequent. She loved its charm. Hermione, blushing from the hand holding, saw Harry standing across the street waiting for them.

Tapping his foot lightly, Harry looked peeved about something.

“It’s quite crowded in there mate, had a table but gave it up when I wasn’t sure if you two would show.” Scowling at each other, and not looking at Hermione, Harry checked his watch again and Ron looked at his feet.

“It’ll be fine. I will go in and get us a table, no worries.” Rolling her eyes and slightly frustrated at the boys’ sudden irritation with each other, Hermione stomped across the street.

***

Just as she was about to reach the handle to the door of the café, a tall man from inside moved to hold it open for her. Looking up to give thanks to a stranger, she stared into the grey eyes of a man that she knew too well. He appeared slightly distressed, which intrigued Hermione.

“Thanks Malfoy.” Raising a questioning eyebrow, she gave him her sweetest smile and then turned to walk in. Moving to take step, he grabbed her wrist.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Granger.” He stared at her with a very serious, yet handsome face.

With her annoyance growing at his sudden need for conversation, she glowered at him. “Where did you expect me to be, Malfoy?”

A deafening sound pierced the night.

In slow motion, Hermione sensed glass breaking in the background and felt the strong heat against her face. She couldn’t tell if the force of the blast had knocked her down or if it was her male companion next to her. With no idea of where this explosion had come from, she covered her head with her hands and slowly felt herself losing consciousness. She thought she heard a voice from far away whisper just before her world went black.

“Not here.”