Hermione woke early the next morning. Not to her surprise, Ginny was still in bed asleep. She had the Cloak of Invisibility pulled up to her chin, her eyes closed peacefully. Hermione smiled sympathetically. Whenever they were in their room, Ginny kept the Cloak close at hand; She slept with it every night and tucked it beneath her pillow during the day. They had all lost Harry, but Ginny had lost much more than that. Hermione knew better than anyone how much Harry had meant to her, and could only imagine the pain she was enduring. As she watched her friend silently, a thought struck her. She pulled out her beaded bag and reached in, withdrawing a handful of clothes. Harry's wrinkled shirt and pants were on top; She folded them neatly and placed them on the bedside table before heading downstairs.

The kitchen was already warm and smelled like breakfast, which made her stomach growl. Draco was sitting at the dining table over a freshly prepared plate while Kreacher continued to stir a pot on the stove.

"Good morning," she said tentatively as she took a seat across from Draco.

"Morning," he grumbled.

"Good morning, Kreacher."

Kreacher looked skeptically over his shoulder and upon seeing Hermione's familiar face he greeted her. He fixed her a plate and pushed it onto the table in front of her.

"How did you sleep?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "You don't have to make small talk, Granger, or acknowledge me every time you see me."

She huffed. "Well, excuse me for being polite."

"If you're still just trying to make it up to me for saving your life, consider your debt paid."

"That's not the only reason," she said softly. "Since we're on the same side now, we can at least be civil, don't you think?"

Draco raised his brow. "We're eating at the same table. Isn't that civil enough?"

Hermione shook her head and sighed. "Forget I said anything."

They ate in silence for a while, Hermione wondering why she even tried to be nice to him. He had promised to let them continue to use Grimmauld Place as a safe house, but if they made him mad enough he could through them out. Perhaps she should just ignore him unless absolutely necessary; That way she wouldn't have to deal with his attitude, and she wouldn't waste her energy.

But something drove her to want to talk to him; She wanted to prove that there was good in him. Albeit a small bit, she had seen it now on several occasions. Maybe if she could prove his 'goodness' to him, Draco would come around and be willing to help them with their plans.

"What are you looking at?" he asked shortly.

Hermione had just realized she was staring at him over her plate. She blinked several times and let her gaze fall to the table.

"Nothing in particular," she assured him. "I was just thinking."

"About?"

"About how we're supposed to get close enough to the snake to kill it," she lied. "Who knows where You-Know-Who could be?"

Draco's gaze darkened. "I do. He's at Malfoy Manor."

Hermione's heart leaped in her chest. "Draco, you could kill it! You could go home, get close enough to it, and..."

"There's only one problem, Granger," he said. "What am I supposed to kill it with?"

The excitement that had been overtaking Hermione suddenly fizzled and she sighed. "I think our only chance is to find the Sword of Gryffindor unless you want to burn your entire mansion down with Fiendfyre."

Neither of them said anything.

"How about you just leave me out of your plans for now," Draco suggested. "I'll help if I can, but I'm not eager to be a part of some suicide mission."

"If we had the sword I would go there myself," she said, mainly to herself.

"That'll go over well," he assured her, an evil gleam in his eye. "The most famous mudblood in the country just walks up to the Dark Lord without him realizing it and kills his pet. Even if you did kill the snake, he would kill you."

"At least someone else would be able to kill him. I make him mortal, he kills me, and then someone else kills him."

"So you do have a death wish," he spat.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "My plan isn't to die, but if it comes to that, I guess I have no other option. Harry died for the cause, along with countless others. I would just be one of them."

Draco scoffed. "The cause."

Hermione's jaw hardened and she pushed herself away from the table. She glared at Draco for a moment, wondering if there really was any good in him or if everything he did was out of self-preservation.

"I need a map," she snapped. "Of Malfoy Manor. Every entrance, every room... as much detail as you can give me."

And with that, she spun on her heal and marched across the room.

"Wait... why do you need a map? Where are you going?"

"To send more patronuses."

...x...x...x...

Hermione sent out a handful of patronuses, each with the same message as before: Sanctuary at Harry's. She was desperate to hear from the others, any of them. She knew the Weasley's were safe, but she wanted to hear from them personally, wanted to hear their voices. Bill, George, and Fleur were in France, so it was unlikely her patronus would find them there, but there was still Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron and Percy. In the event that her patronus found Luna, Seamus, or Dean, they would not know where to find Harry's house (or Draco's house) but they could at least send word that they were safe.

Days passed but there was no news. Hermione was growing restless inside Grimmauld Place and she longed to go somewhere, anywhere, even if it was only for a little while. She entertained herself by cleaning or making endless lists of ideas, which grew more dramatic and more impossible over time. Draco kept mostly to himself except during mealtimes. Whenever they were in the same room, Hermione continued to attempt conversation with him, but more often than not she got too aggravated to continue; Draco seemed to enjoy aggravating her.

It was late one afternoon and Hermione and Ginny were in their room playing a game of exploding snap. They didn't enjoy it nearly as much as Harry and Ron had, but it passed the time and kept them entertained. A knock at their door startled them, and after exchanging looks, Hermione crossed the room to open it. Of course, it was Draco.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"No. But I can help you," he said, sounding bored. "I have something to show you."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder to see Ginny nodding encouragingly. With a sigh she followed Draco into the hallway and they headed to his room.

"Unless you've found the sword, I doubt you can help me."

He snorted. "You underestimate me, then."

Draco pushed open his door and took a seat on his bed, wrenching open the drawer in the bedside table and pulling out a stack of parchment.

"What is that?" Hermione asked, approaching him slowly.

"It's your bloody map," he said, holding out the parchment to her.

Hermione took them skeptically and scanned over them. There were three sheets of parchment, each with a detailed map of one floor of the manor, and they were surprisingly detailed. He had labeled each of the rooms, and even drawn some of the furniture in some of them.

"You did all this?" she asked in disbelief, her eyes still poring over the map.

"I'm no artist, but that should be everything you need," he said.

Hermione looked up and met his eyes. She remembered vaguely snapping at him about needing a map earlier that week, but she had hardly believed he would come through. He was watching her curiously, waiting for her to say something, but she was at a loss.

"Draco, I don't know what to say," she stammered.

"A 'thank you' would suffice," he said.

"Th-thank you."

"I don't know what you're planning, and I'm not sure I want to, but try not to get yourself killed," he snapped.

She shook her head. "I don't plan to do anything until I have the sword, or something else to kill it with."

"Good luck with that," he said before falling back onto his pillow and tucking his hands beneath his head.

"You know," Hermione said as she started toward the door, "you could at least act like you care."

"I don't care," he corrected.

Hermione waved the parchment around like it was Exhibit A. "I think you do, if only slightly."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Well, I think you're wrong. Why would I possibly care about what happens to a mudblood and her blood-traitor friend?"

"Because we're all you've got now," she snapped. "And even if you can live without friends, you can't live without gloating to someone."

Draco opened his mouth, but Hermione was already out of the room. He thought about following her for the sole purpose of letting her know how wrong she was, but something held him back. Perhaps she wasn't wrong; Without Hermione and Ginny, however annoying they were, he would be stuck alone with the disgusting house elf. He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest furiously. How had he become so dependent on the filthy mudblood?

...x...x...x...

Luna's response was both a relief and a surprise to the inhabitants of Grimmauld Place. It was late when Hermione finally crawled into bed that night; She had taken to reading some old books she had found in an upstairs closet and had been reluctant to pry herself out of the armchair in the sitting room.

"You haven't been with Draco all this time, have you?" Ginny asked curiously as Hermione pulled the blanket up to her chest.

Hermione snorted. "No. I was reading downstairs."

"Find anything interesting?"

"No. Just a bunch of outdated spells," she sighed.

Ginny was quiet for a long while. "We need to do something. I feel so helpless just sitting around here waiting to hear from the others."

"I know, Ginny. I feel the same way. But what are we supposed to do? Until we find the sword..."

"About that," Ginny interrupted. "I've been thinking. Couldn't we just make another sword?"

Hermione propped her head up on her hand and gazed across the dimly lit room. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the Sword of Gryffindor is goblin-made and when Harry killed the basilisk, it took in the venom. What if we had another sword and more venom?"

Hermione forced a smile. "Finding a goblin-made sword would be hard enough, but basilisk venom? It's certainly not legal to have, and what about finding it?"

"Well, isn't it certainly convenient that we're sharing a house with a rich, former death eater who could probably get one of the two for us?" Ginny asked, sounding amused. "I'm sure there's got to be a place in Knockturn Alley that would sell a goblin-made sword. And aren't there still fangs of the basilisk left in the Chamber of Secrets?"

Hermione said nothing. She was thinking about everything Ginny had just said. Technically it was possible to impregnate another sword, but the likelihood was slim to none. However, it was more of a plan than they had at the moment, and Hermione was reaching desperation.

"It's possible," she said, more to appease Ginny than anything. "But if Draco won't help us, what do we do."

"Simple. Make a Polyjuice Potion and take one of his hairs."

"You really have given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

Ginny smiled and was about to answer, but a sudden burst of brilliant light made her hold her tongue. A patronus had just burst through the wall and landed in the middle of the room; It was a rabbit.

"Luna!" Hermione gasped.

The rabbit blinked once before opening its mouth. "Where is Harry's house? I didn't know he had a house... I would have gone, but it's kind of hard to get somewhere when you don't know where somewhere is. I hope everyone is alright."

Hermione and Ginny burst into a fit of giggles. Leave it to Luna to lighten the mood.

"I'm glad she's safe, but I wonder where she is," Ginny smiled.

"There's only one way to find out," Hermione smiled and withdrew her wand.