Draco Falore

Just look at the array of betas who helped with this chapter!
I owe thanks to: Amichay (my inspiration for all the love scenes), Lainey (who's very busy having fun and making me jealous), Simon (who is still very patient with me), Kalangitan (who doesn't appreciate how helpful she really is), Shay (who just allowed me to read one of the most beautiful things I've ever read), and Parker (who wanted to help but couldn't, and now I'm worried about her).

Where we left off: Saitaina had revealed Draco as a spy for Voldemort, a fact that he managed to half-deny under Veritaserum (thanks to Ron wasting his one chance on the wrong question). Bill accepted Lee as his future brother-in-law and went to “vanquish evil” with him.

Dedicated to all the beautiful, young, miserable girls we saw behind red curtains in Amsterdam. My heart goes out to them.

Draco Falore
Chapter 7: What Owls See At Night

It's true, I no longer dream of you,
But despite everything, there were moments we shared.
Sometimes I will think of you,
I will remember us together in little times.
-- Free translation from a song by Tip-X (original in Hebrew)

There was nothing new about what Hermione had just heard Draco say. He had said that he loved her. He had said that his marriage to Saitaina was “just business.” He'd already told her all of that two nights ago, at Malfoy Manor. Only he wasn't under the influence of a truth serum then, and he was now. Reason enough to explain the violent shivers that had taken over her body.

Draco's answer made her happier than she had imagined she could ever be, but at the same time it made her want to cry. Cry for the love she now knew was mutual. Cry for his pain. A pain she knew all too well. Carrying this ache alone was bad enough, but the fact that he had to suffer it as well was too much for her to bear.

She sat frozen for several minutes, Harry and Ron staring at her, motionless as she was. Then, large, warm tears rolled down her cheeks, and she felt herself falling uncontrollably.

Strong, familiar arms caught her, and she turned to them for support, but inside she felt as if she was still plunging into a deep, dark abyss. Hermione held on to Harry. Good, brave, loyal Harry, who would always be there for her. She realised she was not crying only for Draco. She was crying for Harry as well. And for herself.

She knew that she did not want Draco to love her. But she was only lying to herself. Her heart was skipping with joy, no matter how much she tried to quell it. The rest of her, the Hermione she wanted to be, thought that it would only make things more complicated.

Now she would need to pursue the "what if's". She held tighter to Harry, knowing that these were probably their last moments together, and not wanting to let go just yet. The same logical Hermione who told her she had better give up on Draco insisted that Harry would never forgive her. Should never forgive her.

She swallowed the rest of her tears and sat up. 'Harry,' she croaked.

'I know,' Harry said softly, sadly. 'I knew from the moment I realised Draco was alive. Even before then. I knew from our first kiss, back in the Burrow.'

'The Burrow?' Ron intervened, but was ignored.

Hermione's tremble increased. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered hoarsely.

'Don't be,' Harry said, sounding confident. 'I should thank you.' She raised her eyes to him in question, and he used the opportunity to kiss her on the cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. 'Thank you,' he repeated, 'for a wonderful year together. Thank you for giving me a chance. And...' he paused, as if not sure how to continue. 'Thank you for realising this wasn't right before things became too complicated.'

The last statement was accompanied with a timid smile, which told Hermione much more than the words. Harry didn't think they should be together either. She felt a wave of relief wash over her.

'Are you absolutely out of your mind?' Ron shouted, grabbing Hermione from the other side and yanking her from Harry's arms. 'You're letting her go with Malfoy just like that? Are you both forgetting that he tried to kill her?'

'Of course not,' Hermione whispered. 'I just wish...' she trailed off, not sure what she wished for. She didn't want to be with Draco. Ron was right; he had tried to kill her and had done so when she had been most vulnerable; when she had trusted him the most. She didn't wish to be with Draco. Then again, she didn't wish to be anything but.

'Come on,' Harry said, gently wiping Hermione's face with his thumbs. 'We should find Draco before the potion wears off.'

He didn't have to say another word. Before Hermione even had a chance to jump out of bed, Ron swiftly left the infirmary. She and Harry were right behind him, ready to search the castle.

***

For the first time since she could remember, Saitaina was alone.

First, there was Dr Branford. He took her under his care when she was so little that she had no recollection of anything before him. And he was always there: for her; with her; all over her.

By the time he had decided that she was old enough to walk about his school on her own, she had already been branded with the Dark Mark. A Death Eater is never alone. Not really.

But now the mark had been disabled, and it was quite inside and outside Saitaina's head. Truly quiet. At first, the sensation was jarring, like extreme loneliness. But it took Saitaina less than a second to get used to this new way of perceiving the world. And she liked it. Oh yes, she liked it.

The first thing Saitaina did after leaving Dumbledore's office was to go to her assigned quarters in the Slytherin dungeon and take a shower. Nothing in the world compared to the feeling of getting undressed not under someone's watchful eye.

Saitaina spent over half an hour under the water, cleansing all residues of the invasive stares from her body. When she finally got out, she could barely see for the steam that had filled the large bathroom.

'Are you there, dear?' the large mirror asked hesitantly. 'I can't help you. You look like a white cloud to me.'

'Good,' Saitaina said with a smile. She rinsed her hair and reached for the bottle of enthralling potion. She poured a handsome amount into her palm, and then froze.

'I don't need this,' she whispered. Spreading her fingers, she let the golden liquid spill into the sink.

'What was that, dear?' the mirror asked.

'Nothing. Do you know where the soap is?'

'Can't see a thing,' the mirror muttered. 'Not much use to me this way. You think you could cast a little dispersing spell on this mist?'

'When I'm done dressing up,' Saitaina promised.

'I could help you with that, dear.'

'I said, when I'm done.' Saitaina's tone wasn't entirely harsh, but it was very final. The mirror grunted, but said nothing more.

Finding the soap, Saitaina washed her hands carefully, removing every trace of the potion. She didn't want any of it on her hands. She never liked the feel of it on her hands. Like sugar water - a sense of stickiness that no one else could feel, but drove her nearly insane.

The thought of walking around without the enthralling potion in her hair made her feel incomplete. She had grown used to it. Used to the reaction men had when in the proximity of her hair. She never had to fear any man, and at occasions, she was able to use the charm on women as well.

She took the bottle again, weighing it in her hand. This potion was supposed to help her with her mission to weave a golden web around Draco. But it didn't really have any long-term effects on him. In any case, he didn't seem to need the additional push towards the Dark Side, and it wasn't her mission any longer. As far as she was concerned, he, his father, their master, and all their missions could go to hell. Moreover, she wanted to help them get there, the sooner the better.

Not bothering to close the cap, Saitaina tossed the bottle of potion into the trashcan. With a wave of her wand, she set fire to it, the flame burning with all the rage she didn't even know she accumulated over the years of serving the Dark Lord.

'Oh dear,' the mirror coughed, 'this smoke isn't really improving the situation here.'

'I'm sorry,' Saitaina said. She wrapped the towel tightly around herself, never putting her wand down, and cast a clearing spell on the room. Then, she added a silencing charm on the mirror. With a satisfied smile, she left the room.

***

The timer charm went off on Harry's wrist, making the boy nearly smash it in his disappointment. He could see Hermione and Ron walking equally disgruntled towards the rendezvous point, their strides long, and their expressions hardened.

'The Veritaserum must have worn off by now,' Ron muttered, wording what they were all thinking. 'I can't understand how Malfoy just disappeared like that. It's been hours!'

'I wish we had the Marauders Map,' Hermione sighed. She began pacing the hall, peering behind the nearest doors as if what she was looking for was right there, only averting her. 'We nearly searched the entire castle,' she added, stopping her unproductive scanning. 'He's either not here, or he was able to avoid us, moving from place to place.'

'Don't worry,' Ron said, a glint in his blue eyes. 'He said he would get me for putting Veritaserum in his Headache Potion. The desire for revenge will flush him out.'

'He's a Slytherin,' Harry sneered. 'He would probably set you a trap, making sure he was far away when it went off.'

Hermione bit her lip. 'No point in searching any more tonight,' she said in a quiet tone. 'I'm going to the owlery to send a letter. I'll see you boys in the morning.'

'Good night,' Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder and turning him towards the Gryffindor tower.

Harry took one step along with Ron's direction, and then stopped and turned around. 'I'll come with you,' he called after Hermione.

'You have a letter you need to send, too?'

'No, not really,' Harry stammered. 'It's... er... I haven't sent anything out in nearly a week. I want to make sure Hedwig is all right.'

'She's an owl,' Ron said, shaking his head. 'What's there to check? I haven't seen Pig in two months, and I can't say that I miss him.

As he couldn't think of a good answer, Harry shrugged, but followed Hermione anyway.

'So,' Hermione said half way up the stairs. 'Why did you want to talk to me in private?'

'What?' Harry asked, puzzled. He didn't remember needing to see Hermione privately.

'Wasn't that why you wanted to come with me to the owlery?'

'I didn't... oh, yes, of course. I just wanted to make sure you're all right...' Harry sealed his lips before he could get further tangled in his own words.

He had expected Hermione to be angry, or offended, but she smiled and seemed to hold back amused laughter. 'You really did want to see Hedwig,' she said. 'I thought it was just an excuse.'

'Don't get this the wrong way,' Harry said. 'I care very much for you. Even now that you and I... that we're... not a couple any more. I just didn't think... I knew you were all right... I mean, you're always the most logical... most composed...'

Harry realised that even after a year with her he still couldn't predict her reactions. He had just paid her a compliment, and yet, her smile turned from amused to brave acceptance, as if she was just forced to swallow down one of Madam Pomfrey's hairy pills.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry grabbed Hermione by her arm just as she was about to open the owlery door. He circled her, his heart pounding quickly. He had often been this close to her, and more, but now that they were separated, it felt a bit like the forbidden fruit. Hoping that she wouldn't be upset by it, he pressed her to his chest and gently kissed her forehead.

'I do love you, Harry,' she said, clinging to him the same way she always did after they'd been to a battle together.

Harry was definitely not able to anticipate her reactions.

'Well, well,' a familiar drawl came very close to Harry's ear. 'If it isn't the royal couple of the wizarding world. Harry Potter and his soon to be Mudblood wife.'

Harry jumped nearly a foot in the air. It wasn't just the fact that Draco was there, after they'd nearly torn the castle apart searching for him. He was also very upset by the fact that anyone could get so close to him unnoticed. That someone being Draco added an acute flavour to the unpleasant surprise. 'Actually, we're not...' he began, but was abruptly cut off by Hermione.

'Actually, it's none of your business,' she said, her eyes as furious as her voice. 'It stopped being your business when -' She stopped, suddenly out of wind. With her shoulders slumped, she looked from him to Harry and back. 'I have a letter to send,' she muttered, pushing her way past the two boys. 'If you will excuse me.'

***

Bill walked one step behind Sirius, looking around him with wide eyes. He had known about the special Aurors' division, but he had no idea how big, or how rich it was.

The entire structure bore no resemblance to any other government building he had ever seen. The place looked like a palace from the outside, and more so on the inside. The floor and walls were covered with decorated carpets. On the walls, hanging by a very sophisticated charm (Bill had taken the time to examine it), were ancient weapons and classical ink prints. Every few meters there was a deep leather couch, or a carved wooden table, or even a marble fountain.

'All confiscated from Death Eaters' houses,' Sirius said, smiling at Bill's astonishment. 'The Ministry doesn't really know about us, so there are no taxes to pay, and we can't bloody let the Death Eaters enjoy what they took though Dark Magic and illegal acts.'

'You could give these things back to their original owners.'

'We do,' Sirius said. He stared at his feet, his good humour gone. 'But more often than not, there is no one left to give the things to.'

'I'm sorry,' Bill said as they stopped in front of the conference room. He pulled up his chin and squared his shoulders. 'This is exactly why I want to help.' With these words, he opened the door.

'Well, it's about bloody time you joined us,' Fred said, getting up from the chair nearest the door. 'We were beginning to think that you would break our perfect Weasley set.'

Bill took a look at the room filled with red heads. Every Weasley who had come of age was there. Even his mother. The family took up nearly half the seats around the conference table.

'My god! I thought this place was supposed to be secret! How did you all end up here?'

'The question is,' Charlie said, 'what took you so long?'

'I just...' Bill's forehead wrinkled. 'I... I didn't want to let Percy know that I found out what he was doing for a living. He was trying to keep it a secret, and I didn't want him to feel stupid.'

Percy's grunt was well heard from the head of the table. 'And I thought you couldn't take a hint. I had to resort to talking in my sleep!'

'So you don't really...'

'No.'

'Oh, good,' Bill said, recovering enough from the shock to see how amusing all this was. 'Because my first act as an agent here was going to suggest putting you in quarantine while you're sleeping.'

'That would not be necessary,' Percy said, leaning back in his chair. 'But thank you for thinking of me. Now, please take your place between Carole and Charlie. I'd like to begin.'

***

Harry took one step to follow Hermione into the owlery but immediately stopped and turned to face Draco. 'What are you doing here?' he asked.

Draco smiled brightly, and Harry had the distinct feeling that he'd just fallen into a well-set trap. 'Keeping my promise to Dumbledore,' Draco said, his voice as sweet as his smile. He waited for Harry to look completely confused before going on. 'I'm going to release a prisoner, enslaved here by Death Eaters.'

'A prisoner?' Despite his best attempts to hide his surprise, Harry's voice sounded interested, almost eager.

'Held right under your nose,' Draco said, his grin growing into a full-size smirk. His expression softened when Hermione's face peeped from the shadows. She, like Harry, found the idea both absurd and intriguing.

'Well,' Draco said, shaking himself from the temporary freeze that held him when he saw her, 'since you're here, you will be my witnesses. Couldn't think of anyone better for the job, actually.' He went past Harry and into the owlery.

At that time of night, most school owls were out, making their way to their morning delivery destinations. A few owls were perched by the large windows, most of them privately owned by students.

Draco's hawk owl waited alert, perched at the far end of the room. Harry scanned about for Hedwig, and found her nibbling on owl treats. He waved, walking lightly towards her. She raised her head, but before she could hoot her reply, a hand almost as white as her feathers grabbed her. She fought against Draco's grip. Pale plumage swirled about the room. Her hoots threatened to render them all temporarily deaf, but Draco encircled her large body with both hands, holding her tightly at arm's length.

Harry rushed forward, his wand in his hand. 'Let go of h...' The loud protest died on his lips as he realised why Draco had grabbed his owl. 'Oh my god,' he whispered. Somewhere, deep down, he found it believable that Hedwig was here against her will. She was a wonderful, intelligent owl. She could do so much more than just deliver his mail. Of course she should go free.

'All right,' he said, surprising Draco with his calm tone. 'Let her go, and I will set her free. There's no need to harm her.'

'You think I'm here to release a bird back to nature?' Draco said, nearly losing his grip with his laughter.

'She's not just any bird!' Harry yelled.

'You've got that one right.' Draco pressed Hedwig to his chest with one arm, ignoring her strong beak, which was blindly tearing at his robes. With his other hand he pointed his wand to her.

White-blue light emerged from the tip of his wand, enveloping the owl, which froze in mid-air, still trying to beat against whatever was in her way. With another bright flash Hedwig's body began to distort and twitch, slowly taking another shape.

First, a head appeared, blooming up from the glow: a beautiful, gentle face of a young woman, surrounded by a cloud of soft red curls. Then, arms and legs stretched out, until Draco was standing a few inches away from a girl nearly as tall as he was, clad in robes much too small for her, and staring at him with a mixture of fear and hate.

Harry could somehow accept that his Hedwig was actually a young woman, trapped in an owl's body. But he couldn't believe that her expression would read anything but wisdom and bravery. The loathing in her eyes was the real shock to him.

'I present to you, Tamara,' Draco said victoriously.

Tamara-ex-Hedwig took a step back, but Draco grabbed her arm, trying to make it look like he was just taking her hand in a friendly gesture. 'Tamara was kidnapped by followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when she was ten,' Draco began his explanation. He needed to apply growing pressure on her arm in order to keep her still. 'She was taken in an attempt to put pressure on her Auror parents. The Death Eaters who took her thought it would be a nice touch to hide her right under Dumbledore's nose, and close to Harry Potter, no less. They didn't have much trouble convincing Hagrid that the sleeping snowy owl they had would be the perfect gift for you. When her parents were killed...' Tamara released a miserable sob. 'Well, the ones who took her saw no reason to sneak into Hogwarts just to release her.'

'That's not true!' Tamara cried. 'My parents were Death Eaters. They left me here to spy on Harry.' She made another vigorous and vain attempt to get free. 'Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry! I swear that after the first month with you I didn't tell them anything useful! I learned to know you, and I didn't... I couldn't...' She trailed off.

'Let go of her!' Harry told Draco. His jaw was clenched as if he was getting ready to chew the blond boy if he refused.

'Are you mad?' Draco sneered. 'She just told you she's a Death Eater and a spy. You want to just let her go?!'

Harry didn't bother to answer. He pointed his wand directly to Draco's head and stared at him. His green eyes bore a gaze colder than Draco's iciest glares.

Draco's fist opened slowly, revealing angry red marks on Tamara's upper arm. She rubbed the sore spot and took a step away from him. 'I know what you want me to do, and I refuse,' she said. She looked sadly at Draco, as if he had just served her a death sentence. 'I won't spy for you, or your master any more.' She looked at Harry and mumbled 'I'm sorry' once more. He could see her mouthing, 'I love you.' Then, she dashed towards the window and threw herself out, spreading her arms wide.

For a split second, Harry stood there, staring wide eyed the spot she had occupied just a moment earlier. 'She must still think she can fly!' he cried. He ran to the window and jumped after her.

Harry could see Tamara dropping far below him, flapping her arms in a futile attempt to sore into the air. A scream echoed in his ears, but he didn't know if it was Tamara's or Hermione's. Probably both. A levitation charm from that distance was nearly impossible, but he could think of no better option. He pointed his wand to her, and cried 'Femina Leviosa.' The very first spell he had learned as a wizard.

Maybe it was the precision he'd learned in years of pointing his broom at tiny Snitches, or maybe it was sheer luck, but the spell hit Tamara directly, and immediately the distance between them closed. Only when she passed him on her up did Harry realise that his victory wasn't quite complete. He had saved her, but he was still going down. At the last moment he managed to cast a strong cushioning charm on the ground, and then crashed into it.

***

Ron had all the intentions to walk to the Gryffindor tower, but his legs carried him to the opposite direction: down to the Slytherin dungeons. Of course this was the place they'd searched the most, but he wanted to check just one more time; make sure that Malfoy didn't get back there. Oh, who was he kidding? He no longer cared about Malfoy. All he wanted was a glimpse at Saitaina. Just one. If anyone asked him what he was doing there, he could always say he was looking for Malfoy.

His long strides brought Ron in front of the entrance to the dormitories in no time. There, he faced a real dilemma. He could get the portal to open. Harry had the passwords to all the houses, and he trusted Ron with them. However, he didn't know if getting into the Slytherin common room was such a good idea. And even if he did go unnoticed - he didn't know where Saitaina's quarters were. For that matter, he didn't know where Malfoy's quarters were either.

After staring stupidly at the wall for several minutes, Ron turned around, his shoulders slumped and his head bowed down. He was nearly ready to leave when a creak sounded behind him.

Completely alert Ron prepared to face whichever Slytherin came out. As he spun back to the portal, his ready wand brushed the silky robes of the woman. The one he had wanted to see so badly that now he thought he was only imagining her.

'Saitaina?' he asked hesitantly.

'Ron!' Her face lit up with a smile, completing her perfect appearance. Her soft violet robes clashed with the milky smoothness of her skin. Gentle white embroidery decorated their lower part, while the upper part was hidden behind her long curls, still damp from a shower.

'What are you doing out of your quarters at this time of night?' Ron asked. His thoughts were tangled in an immense inside struggle: he was happy to see her, but upset at the risk she was taking. 'It is dangerous to walk alone in the dark. You don't know how many spies and traitors stalk about the castle.'

'More dangerous than inside the Slytherin house?' she laughed. 'I don't think so.' She stared at Ron for a long moment, frowning. 'What is a Gryffindor, and a highly marked one at that, doing alone at this time of night in Slytherin territory?'

Several explanations ran through Ron's head, none very convincing. He decided to say that he was there to charm Snape's hair pink for the end-of-the-year feast, but the words that came out of his mouth had a mind of their own. 'Hoping to see you.'

Saitaina bit her lower lip and took a step closer to him. 'I couldn't sleep,' she whispered into his ear. 'I kept thinking of you.' Her warm breath on Ron's ear was not their only point of contact any more. She brushed against him; just enough to have him feel her presence, and no more. 'I'm glad you're here.'

Her soft touch was hardly enough for Ron. Before she could further tease him, he held both her shoulders and pressed her closely to his chest, lifting her so that only her toes touched the ground. His mouth covered hers, soft and sweet as he remembered it. Soon, or was it long after - he'd really lost track of time - his kisses covers her face, and then her neck, moving slowly and steadily down.

'What is that thing in your hair?' Ron asked, taking a deep, intoxicating breath of the scent. 'I can't seem to get enough of it.'

'Nothing,' Saitaina said softly. Ron could feel her shivering in his arms, and held her tighter, trying to protect her from her own imagination. 'There is absolutely nothing in my hair.' She unconsciously reached for her head and tenderly touched one long corkscrew lock. 'But thank you for asking,' she added in a truly grateful tone.

***

The rising sun sent its bright rays through the infirmary window, waking Hermione up. The girl jumped out of her chair and looked at the clock, which read, 'you should really get more sleep now'. She was wearing the same robes she had on the previous day, only much more wrinkled after the quick nap she'd had by Harry's bed.

She relaxed, looking at the tranquil smile on Harry's face. His injuries were not apparent any more. He seemed like he was only sleeping, which was probably the case by this time.

Madam Pomfrey had been almost pleased with his condition when they had brought him in, if that was at all possible for the nurse. She had been more anxious about allowing the strange girl into her hospital. But Tamara, unfamiliar with the nurse's methods, had drunk the sleeping potion she had been offered without asking questions, and could not be considered a danger any more.

Hermione had a special reason to be suspicious of the girl. When Nagini had come in (how she knew Harry was in the infirmary was another puzzle) she had acted as if she knew Tamara. She had gone to her bed, raised her gigantic head, and took a long look at the sleeping figure before curling up on Harry's robes. Hermione wished she had stopped the snake before she had pulled down the robes from Harry's nightstand, along with several goblets and quite a number of chocolate frogs. At least chasing the frogs had kept her occupied for a few minutes.

Nagini could have met Tamara in any of several places. She could have even recognised her as Hedwig, which could explain the way she had shaken her head and blinked at the girl. Unfortunately, the most probable explanation was that she knew her from the time before Nagini followed Harry to Hogwarts. When she was in the service of the Dark Lord.

Then again, Tamara openly admitted that she did serve Voldemort at one point, and pretended to still be at it until very recently. It was Draco who claimed that she was a prisoner all this time. And why would he do that unless he wanted to keep her in the service?

'You were sleeping,' Draco's voice from the chair to her left drove away the last of Hermione's drowsiness.

'Only for a few minutes,' Hermione said defensively, and then caught herself. 'It's none of your business. What are you doing here?'

Draco looked at her intently, his grey eyes dark as a stormy sky. 'Watching over Tamara,' he said.

'She's asleep.'

'But you're not.'

The corner of Hermione's lip twitched. 'You think I'll do anything to harm her? Why would I do that?'

'Because she's going to steal your boyfriend.'

'You can't be serious. He's just met her...'

'...And was willing to sacrifice his life for her,' Draco cut her off.

'That's Harry.' There was a sad tone to that statement. She bit her lips against saying anything more, but the words gushed out anyway. 'He's free to go with her if he wants to.'

She knew she shouldn't have told Draco about it. The arrogant blond boy would immediately think that he was the reason for their separation. And he would be right. But he would only break her heart, like he had done the last time she had trusted him. Her heart hadn't been the only thing broken then.

Draco got up slowly and began to approach her.

'Don't even think about it,' Hermione hissed. 'I'm not going to let you kiss me. Especially not over Harry's bed only a few hours after we broke up.'

Draco looked like he was about to deny that these were his intentions. Being rejected so vehemently was not something he could take easily. Only he couldn't bring the words to come out. Not when they were such an obvious lie. 'If you have a problem kissing me here, maybe we should go outside for a few minutes. Sleeping beauty here really doesn't need you to watch over him.'

'I'm not going anywhere,' Hermione said, trying her best not to think about how close he was standing. She found it difficult to speak when her breath was catching, not taking in his bitter lemon scent and then holding it in, at the same time.

'Harry was there for me every time I needed him since you... since you left. He sat by my side, read me the homework and talked to me for hours when he knew I couldn't hear him. He brought one of the armchairs from the common room; put it right here.' She pointed at an empty space between two of the beds.

Her eyes were closed as she spoke, but she felt Draco getting steadily closer. She could tell he was kneeling beside her now, tracing the shape of her neck with his fingers without actually touching her. His smell had a spicy edge to it - one she could sense only when he was less than an inch away.

She shut her eyes tighter and concentrated on Harry. He wasn't the love of her life, she knew that by now, but he was a good enough friend to create a distraction, however minor. 'He was incredibly unlucky,' she said, laughing dryly. 'All that time he was watching over me, and I finally wake up when he let Ron take over for a few minutes.'

A cold breeze told her that Draco had abruptly moved away. Satisfied as she was that her strategy of ignoring him had worked, she felt like bursting into tears. By the time she felt safe to open her eyes, he was back in his chair by Tamara's bed.

She had expected him to put on his indifferent mask. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had looked upset, though. He didn't seem to be able to hide his feelings around her any more. But he wasn't cool or disappointed. He was angry. At a rage, as it seemed. Two red blotches decorated his pale cheeks, and his eyes flared icy bolts of light. The dark essence that had been in them earlier was gone, cleared its place to cold metal.

Hermione took a quick breath in, nearly falling back with her chair when she realised that this anger wasn't pointed at her. Draco threw his chair back and got up. He looked at her, and for a moment his features softened, but then he turned his head, as if not sure where he was going. In a moment, he made up his mind. He grabbed his cloak from the fallen chair and stormed out of the room.

***

Draco stomped aimlessly around the castle halls for hours. For a year and a half he had thought that he had lost everything to Harry. He had lost Quidditch matches, he had lost duels, and he had lost the girl he loved.

Losing to Harry made him angry. It made him feel vengeful. But it also gave him some comfort. It wasn't that bad, losing to Harry Potter. Not as bad as losing to a Weasley.

He felt like screaming his rage at missing the one, single most important moment in her life. The one Weasley had snatched away from him. He could live with the thought that Harry had stolen the moment, the kiss that was rightfully his. But the redheaded brat! That was too much to take.

Hours of roaming the castle had done nothing to calm Draco down. Taking deep breaths so that he would at least appear relaxed, he headed towards the trophy room. He was glad he didn't come across Weasley anywhere. The mindless onslaught he would have undoubtedly launched at him would have blown his cover to pieces.

It took Draco longer than usual to put up the locking and silencing charms around the trophy room. It was also hard to keep his concentration for long enough to start a cold flame for communication. However, the pending punishment for failing to do so, plus the burns he'd sustained in his first failed attempts were enough of a drive for him to make the spell work.

'What happened?' Voldemort asked before Draco could even state his allegiance to him. His voice was an angry hiss, hitting the ear like storm waves crashing to the cliffs.

There were several possible answers to this question. Draco didn't think that the Dark Lord was raging about the few minutes delay in the daily communications. The answer, or rather, excuse, depended on the exact mess he was referring to. It could have been Saitaina's failure to attend the meeting, or Tamara's refusal to be a spy on Harry. He could even mean Draco's loss of control in the infirmary that morning. 'Things didn't go as well as expected, My Lord, but I assure you...'

'You can assure me nothing, you traitor!' Voldemort's screech drowned the rest of his words.

The punishment for whatever act of treason Draco was accused of came swift and harsh. A wave of insufferable pain washed through him, burning his insides and leaving him breathless on his knees. Unlike the empowerment of the day before, this penalty did not put out the flame on his palm.

Draco breathed heavily as the pain slowly faded, not yet ready to rise to his feet. 'My Lord! Everything I did was in your name! I wish things had turned otherwise...' the words died out as he saw the sneer on the serpent-like face.

'You forget, young Malfoy,' Voldemort began, his voice lowered to an ominous whisper, 'that I can hear you even when others cannot. Last night, you were stupid enough to let Weasley slip Veritaserum into your drink. You have said some very interesting things.'

'I have only said that I loved Hermione,' Draco argued hotly. 'And I do. But my loyalty to you surpasses any love, My Lord.'

'Does it?' Voldemort turned his face from the flame, and Draco could see his back, covered with a cloak blacker than a starless night. He turned back, his scarlet eyes two narrow slits. 'What were your exact words? Let me recall: "I love Hermione. Never stopped loving her. Even when I pretended to kill her." Of course, you made sure that no one would hear the last part, but I was there, listening to you testify to your treason, you pitiful excuse for a wizard.'

The last words rang in Draco's ears as he was washed by another wave of hot, searing pain, like a ball of fire trying to tear its way out of his bones. It was longer, and more intense, eating persistently at Draco's flesh until he rolled on the floor, trying to put out the flame that was burning inside of him.

When the sharp pain was gone, Draco was left sore, gasping for air. It took Voldemort's angry cry to get him to open his eyes and discover that the communication flame was still burning. He held it above him, as he was lying flat on his back.

He tried to think of a way to explain his words as a misunderstanding. He could say that if that was the case, he had no reason to hide the truth from Weasley and his friends. He could say that he was talking about some other incident, a game he and Hermione had played when they were still together.

The Dark Lord wasn't that stupid.

'I am sorry, My Lord,' he said, rolling to his knees and bowing his head down submissively. 'I have made a mistake, long ago. A lot has happened since then. I am nothing but your loyal slave now. I will take upon me any punishment you see fit, but please allow me to keep serving you.'

Voldemort's slit nostrils widened. He scrunched his thin lips, and then relaxed them into an imitation of a smile. 'You have been punished enough,' he said. 'I am certain that you will not repeat this mistake. I will set the Mudblood girl aside for you when I conquer Hogwarts, and then you will have a chance to redeem yourself.

'For now, you have served your purpose. You have helped to expose two spies amongst our ranks. Both girls will be punished severely. I do not want you to further endanger your position. You will lock yourself in your assigned quarters and will only contact me if you have important news. Otherwise, I will see you at the outer entrance to the Great Hall on Friday.'

Draco bit his tongue against the protest he was about to make. Even disguised as a desire to further spy on the Hogwarts faculty, questioning Voldemort's orders at this point could prove fatal.

'Thank you, Master,' he said. 'I will wait for you on Friday, and I will be ready to fight on your side.'

Voldemort's red gaze burned in Draco's eyes long after the flame with his image was gone.

***

The sound of dragging drapes penetrated the cloud of sleep that wrapped Hermione, and she felt soft afternoon light caressing her face. She opened her eyes and looked up into the shining face of Professor Dumbledore.

'Good afternoon, Miss Granger,' the Headmaster beamed at her.

'And to you too, Professor.' She looked at Harry, who slept peacefully on the bed beside her.

'Seems like Nagini is spending quite a lot of her time here, lately,' Dumbledore said, his smile sounding in his voice. Then, his tone darkened. 'You are here too much as well. But Poppy tells me that both of you will be all right. Do you feel up to answering a few questions?'

Hermione didn't feel at her best, but she wasn't about to refuse Dumbledore's request. 'Of course, Professor. You want to know what happened at the owlery tonight.'

'Yes, if you'll be so kind as to tell me what you remember.'

'Not much happened, really,' Hermione said. 'Harry and D-Draco were arguing, as they often do.' She had trouble pronouncing Draco's name without bursting into tears, and had to swallow hard after that start. How often did the two boys really argue? They used to disagree on everything when Draco was still attending to Hogwarts, but he hadn't been around for so long. And he had only come back a few days ago. She really couldn't testify to his new habits. Still, Hermione could easily imagine that he'd never been gone. That the past year and a half never happened. The memories of her time with him were as fresh as if they had happened only the day before.

And yet, there was the matter of not knowing if he was even fighting on her side in the battle.

'And after they argued?' Dumbledore asked, gently shaking her back to reality.

Hermione frowned at her lack of concentration, and continued. Her speech was distant, as if someone else was talking for her. 'Draco put a revealing spell on Harry's owl, and she turned into a woman.' She pointed at Tamara, on the next bed. The chair next to her was still turned over, just the way Draco had left it.

'Draco said that she was a forgotten prisoner, and he was rescuing her. Tamara denied it. She said that she was actually there to spy on Harry, and that she was no longer willing to do it.' Hermione bit her lip, unable to decide whether she wanted to tell Dumbledore the rest. Unwillingly, she decided she should. 'Tamara accused Draco of still working for Voldemort,' she whispered. The shiver that passed through her had nothing to do with the mention of the Dark Lord's name.

'She's the second girl to do so in one day,' Dumbledore said sadly, and then a glint appeared in his eyes. 'Draco is certainly not doing very well with the ladies since his return.'

Hermione's mouth opened, but words failed her.

The old headmaster took a deep breath and sat on Harry's bed by Hermione's side. He seemed tired, his age suddenly showing on his wrinkled face. 'Sometimes,' he said with a sigh, 'things are not what they seem. Sometimes, people are forced to do things that are not to their liking, because the other options are unthinkable. And sometimes, I talk like Hagrid.' He rose to his feet. 'Too much.'

'Thank you,' Hermione whispered. 'Do you want me to tell you the rest?'

Dumbledore looked at Harry, and then at Tamara. 'That would be unnecessary. Get some sleep. I will hear everything from these two when they wake up.'

Hermione couldn't resist even if she wanted to. The Headmaster's words had put a spell on her, like the combined effect of a cheering charm and a sleeping potion. She crawled into her bed, and knew that she was going to sleep well for the first time in years.