MykEsprit and mcal are the only reasons I've been able to keep going. I'm infinitely thankful to have them.

The door opened with a faint creak, and it closed just as quietly. "You can't sleep either?" Daphne called. She lingered at the door, clasping her hands in front of her before wringing her fingers. "Hermione?"

Her stomach had not stopped rolling since the news of the Head of the DMLE was murdered, her niece and immediate family assumed dead as well. It was not as if she'd suffered a great loss in Amelia Bones; she'd only met her on occasion, but she realised it for what it was: the beginning.

Or maybe they were in the middle, and she was still foolishly convincing herself otherwise.

"Draco is in the sitting room, flipping through photo albums. I brought them," Daphne hedged carefully. "I thought he might like to see them."

Hermione nodded. "That was thoughtful. Thank you."

The mattress dipped slightly as she sat beside Hermione, reaching over to join their hands. "A knut for your thoughts?"

There were twenty-seven cracks in the floor that she could see, two gashes in the floor made by what she could only imagine was a blade of some sort—possibly a dagger was driven into the ancient wood. There were slights in the ceiling, imperfections in the wall she'd spent the last hour staring at while she attempted to gather her thoughts.

"Why are we here? Grimmauld is meant to be headquarters for the Order." Hermione finally said, her voice hoarse. "I wasn't able to ask Theo." It left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that she deserved, and the look on his face as he realised the extent of her lies made bile rise in her throat.

"It wasn't safe to take you to St Mungos once you collapsed, even though you're in desperate need of a mind healer. There are..." Daphne squeezed her hand. "Theo told you there are You-Know-Who's supporters inside the Ministry?"

She nodded.

"The Order believes they're inside St Mungos too. Theo only told me that today; he keeps me in the dark, but I have some training in the area of healing." Daphne fidgeted, picking under her nails. "Not nearly enough, however. Tomorrow, we should expect a certified mind healer to arrive."

Hermione didn't ask where they would find one they could trust. She already had an idea. "I see. Where is Theo?"

Daphne froze, staring straight ahead, and she didn't turn even when Hermione did. "I can't tell you where Theo is."

There was a sick, grinding sensation in her chest. "Of course you can't."

"I kept your secret, Hermione. I kept it from Theo even when it made me sick." Daphne whispered. There wasn't a single trace of anger in her voice. "So, no, I won't tell you this, but he will."

There was a new imperfection Hermione found in the wallpaper peeling away from the wall. "What do you think a mind healer will tell me?" Hermione changed the subject, knowing it was unfair to linger on Theo, and it was certainly a double standard to expect Daphne to tell her anything.

Daphne cleared her throat. "I think you'll be recommended daily potions for a stretch. Processing memories that have been taken from you is dangerous, but with the way you remembered… The worst case is that there are other memories you've lost, that have been taken," she corrected. "And you may remember them as the result of a trigger. Theo said it was a book that caused this?"

She nodded, vividly remembering the memory of when she was much younger, across from her father in his study. "Yes, I read something I wasn't meant to, and he didn't want me to remember. Once I saw the title of the book, the memory surged up."

Squeezing her hand, Daphne smiled. "It must have hurt."

Like something spearing through her mind with no sense of direction. "It did."

She covered Hermione's hand with her other hand, cupping it and her smile didn't fall. "Most people would black out from that kind of pain." Daphne informed her. "You're quite strong, Hermione."

It was such a ridiculous thing to hear, and Hermione's head snapped up. "What did you say?"

Always encouraging, Daphne repeated herself, but this time she spoke much slower just to get under Hermione's skin. "It's true. Maybe you can't fight like Harry, or Ron, or Theo, but you're brave. I think you held onto that memory as tightly as you could."

She hadn't.

She hadn't, and it was nothing spectacular if she had. Foolish, it was—

"That's the sort of determination I think carries you through." Daphne rose their joined hands, her eyes a bright blue as she peered over them. "You deserved to hear it. You're not the sum of your parts. It's not that simple."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Where did you hear about that?"

Daphne shrugged. "I didn't, but we've been friends for long, Hermione. I know you inside and out. Ron said you visited with Molly about Gideon, and I pieced it together."

Hermione wanted to bottle it, to store it on a shelf in her head, and leave all of her self-doubt elsewhere before it could poison her. "This isn't the time to be worried—"

Her friend snorted. "This is exactly the time. Who knows how much time we have before we're at war, and don't tell me we're already there. It's going to fall apart, and these are the issues that have the power to cripple you. So," Daphne leaned back and crossed her legs. "Tell me all about it."

Theo stumbled into Grimmauld early the next morning, where Hermione sat in front of the hearth, which remained unlit. Grime covered him from head to toe, and she spotted the blood on his neck as he stumbled, grappling the back of the armchair. "Have you even slept?" He gasped.

She shook her head. "I wanted to wait for you, on the unlikely chance you'd be willing to speak to me."

He stared at her, his gaze harsh before is softened. "Where is he?"

"Asleep upstairs. Can I help you clean up? You're bloody." Hermione stood, wiping her clammy hands against her trousers.

Theo sighed as he nodded, beckoning her down the corridor with a tilt of his head. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Hermione didn't believe him. She padded down the corridor, pressing the door open to the room where she had woken a day earlier. "Daph says there should be a mind healer here today. Did you arrange that?"

He shook his head. "No," he grunted as he sat at the foot of the cot. Theo peeled off his shirt, revealing that he had been lying. Bruises that were stretched across his chest and down his abdomen were already turning a deep purple, and there were multiple gashes down his torso. "Tonks is handling it."

"Tonks?"

"She's an Auror. You'll probably meet her later today, or tomorrow. She's fond of Remus."

Hermione wrung out a wet cloth before carefully cleaning the cuts as she used basic sterilization charms. "Remus? Good for him." She muttered. Of course, she had questions, but given the night before, she wasn't so likely to get them. Yet… "If I ask you where you went last night, will you tell me?"

He shifted uncomfortably.

"Does it have anything to do with Amelia Bones?"

Theo mistakenly headbutted her, and busted her lip. "Oh, fuck, I'm sorry!"

She swatted his hands away. "It's fine. My lip just stings." Hermione wiped the blood from his neck. "There's no cut here."

He swallowed audibly. "Not my blood." It was a whisper.

All she could do was nod, and push the hair from her face. "I see. I understand you can't tell me. I just want you to be safe, even though I don't think that's possible anymore. Not when Harry is involved. The two of you disappeared at the same time. Whatever you were doing, I hope something came of it."

It felt like what would have been a defining moment, but nothing came of it. Theo said nothing of what he'd been doing, or whose blood he'd been covered in. Was it Harry's? Hermione didn't know.

Theo waved her off as she neared him, looking fearful as he said he would need sutures. "I'll wait for Daphne to wake up."

Hermione placed her hands on her hips. "You could get an infection."

He nodded. "Yes, I'll take the risk of infection over you attempting sutures." Theo laughed when her face twisted in indignation. "Harry hasn't come back yet, I take it?"

"No, not yet."

"Right then," Theo braced his palms on his thighs. "He's probably at the Ministry then. Hermione, there's something I need to ask you to do, and for once, I just need you to listen to me."

Her hip bumped the tray behind her. "I won't leave Grimmauld Place." Hermione said, grinning when shock overtook him. "I know. It's a surprise for me to agree with you, and especially before you've even asked. I have a lot of questions, but they can wait. But," her voice broke, and he already knew what was coming, it was etched across his face. "I'm so sorry."

Theo struggled to stand, and he didn't listen to her protests. He wrapped her in a one armed hug, and patted her hair. "Don't misunderstand, I'm still hurt by what you kept for me, but I'm furious that you drugged Lucius Malfoy."

She tried to wiggle away, and he let her do no such thing. "Did Draco tell you that?"

"He did." Theo replied. "If it's any consolation, he looked like he regretted it immediately afterwards. Does Lucius have any memory of this?"

Hermione shook her head. "Of course not. I Obliviated him before I left Malfoy Manor." She stared at her bare feet, chewing the inside of her cheek. "I needed to give the truth to Draco. I felt like I owed it to him. In reality, I owed you the truth, but—"

Theo nodded. "I understand, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.

In the morning, Hermione sat beside Draco, not focusing on his fingers trailing her outer thigh through her jeans. Grimmauld Place had shifted from hide-a-way to headquarters overnight.

Three Aurors landed in the Floo, and Tonks was the only one to not look severe. She tripped over the edge of the rug, and Remus caught her with a sigh. Whether anyone else caught it, Hermione didn't know, but she noticed the way Tonks' eyes lit up as she took in the man in front of her, laying her hands on his forearms as if she had done it many times before, and would continue to do so.

Remus turned to Hermione, tucking his hands into his worn trousers. There was a patch over the knee, and another on the calf. "The mind healer will be here soon."

She nodded. "So, Harry's told you already?"

"Theo, actually."

Theo and Remus hardly spoke, and she lifted an eyebrow. "When did he have the time?"

"You were unconscious for most of the day yesterday." Remus pointed out.

Draco's hand tightened over her knee. As a smile formed at the edge of his mouth, Hermione bumped her shoulder against his. "Yes," she said slowly as Remus cast a look across the room toward her brother. "It was a shock to wake here. Do you know the mind healer then?"

He shook his head. "Hardly. He's from France. Healer Bernard worked with us during the first war after his wife was taken by Death Eaters." Remus' eyes darkened, and were suddenly far away, leaving her with the sense that he was seeing through them.

She cleared her throat. "Did they ever…?"

"No." His voice was tight. "Well, Moody believes it may have been her, but without proof." Remus trailed off, wincing when he shrugged. "Bernard contacted Moody the moment there were rumors of You-Know-Who's return." His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly, continuing in a tight voice, "Remus," as he leaned forward to shake Draco's hand.

"Draco," he replied easily. "You were my Defence professor."

Remus' eyes jerked to Hermione's. "Have you begun to remember things?"

"Oh, no." Draco replied. He leaned forward with his elbows rested on his knees. "I've seen memories of Hermione's, and some she took from others."

She ignored the chastising look their former professor gave her. "I returned them once he had viewed them."

"I got the impression that I acted like a prejudiced brat once I learned you were a werewolf. Isn't that ironic? However, I apologise for it." Draco's fingers brushed over her knuckles as Remus left them. "Are you worried what the healer may find?"

Shaking her head, Hermione watched as Remus moved from them, his attention caught by Harry as he left the room. Their heads close together as they whispered. "No," she said. "If there's anything else I've been forced to forget, I imagine it will be too dangerous to retrieve the memories."

Was there anything else taken from her mind? Hermione couldn't justify her gut instinct, but she didn't believe there was. She had replayed the memory over and over again until the name Horcruxes rattled around in her brain. Father had wiped it from her mind for a reason, and her stomach churned to consider those reasons.

Healer Bernard confirmed what she suspected: there was nothing else to find. There were no gaps in her memory that were typical of Obliviation victims, but he did suggest that she take daily potions for two weeks for the strain that had been placed on her mind.

At Hermione's urging, Draco sat in front of the healer, and allowed him to run diagnostics on him as well. The news for Draco, as dire as it was, turned out to be just as Hermione suspected. The Obliviation could only be reversed—without risk—by the original caster, and Lucius would never do so. To attempt a reversal would put Draco's mind in a precarious position.

He immediately held up his hand. It wasn't worth it.

With a grim look on his face, and a frown twisting his lips, Healer Bernard sat in the chair across from the cot. "There's also the chance that you will remember things, as Hermione did, and the consequences of that are just as dangerous."

Bed ridden was a best case scenario, though Draco soured at the suggestion of it as well.

The worst case scenario was memories resurging and shredding his mind irreversibly. It would mean a life long stay in the Janus Thickney ward, and there was nothing to be done to prevent it.

Hermione's fingers curled around Draco's.

They didn't return to the safehouse for anything but retrieving the clothing left here, and the boxes of books she'd brought with her. There was no need for the Beginner's Guide to Spells now that Draco had surpassed even what she'd expected, but for the sake of nostalgia, she shrunk it and stowed it away.

Arriving through the Floo connected to Grimmauld, Hermione severed the connection between the two locations, not wanting to leave any way open into the Order. Draco carried their things into the room they'd shared for the past two nights, and she found Theo leaned against the counter in the kitchen.

"Have you heard from Father?" She asked. "Is he looking for me?"

Theo met her gaze with a terse nod. "I haven't let anything slip if that's what you're asking."

Her chest caved in on itself. It had been like this, tense and awkward, since the first night. While hoping for the best was the optimistic thing to do, Hermione had dug a hole for herself that she'd naively thought she could step around. However, there were no shortcuts when it came to earning back one's trust.

He sighed as she turned away. "Wait. That was the wrong to say."

Hermione shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"It does." He unclenched his jaw, and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm leaving tonight, and I won't be back for a few days. I don't want you to worry."

She nodded. "Stay safe. Will anyone be with you?"

Theo shook his head.

Casting a look at the doorway and finding it empty, Hermione decided it was the only moment she would get to ask. She closed the distance between them. "Does the Order know Father is a Death Eater?"

His grip on his mug tightened. "Yes, but not everyone. It's best you don't mention it at all."

"Of course," she agreed. "Can you tell me where you're going?"

He didn't say anything as he sipped his tea. "I can't." Theo wouldn't meet her eyes directly, and instead looked at the pans above her head, or the decrepit chandelier hanging over the dining room table. "Harry will be here tonight."

Hermione stepped away from him. "I'll see him then. I assume I'm still not to leave Grimmauld?"

He scowled. "Don't say it like you're being held prisoner."

Heat filled her cheeks. "I want to help. Hiding here isn't going to help anyone, Theo. I would ask anyone else about this, but there's been no one here who I can discuss anything with beyond you. Remus was here for twenty minutes at the most yesterday, and you leave any room I walk into."

Theo drained the last of his tea before dumping the cup into the sink. "I can't give you anything to do, and I can't tell you about what I'm doing. When Harry arrives, ask when Mad-Eye will be here, but I wouldn't get your hopes up. He'll take one look at you, and assume you have no place—"

"Then I'll show him that I do." Hermione cut in. "You'll be safe?"

"No," Theo snorted. "I'll be incredibly reckless and get myself killed."

Hermione lifted her hand and wrapped her fingers around the necklace at her throat. "Don't even joke about it. I'll see you when you're back."

His features softened as she left the kitchen.

Draco sat across from her, one leg crossed over the other, while he snapped open the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.

True to what Theo had said, Harry arrived minutes after ten o'clock. He was beaten ragged, blood soaking into the collar of his uniform, and he took a weary look at her. "I'll be right back." Harry grumbled. He walked with a slight limp on his right side that hadn't been there the last time she'd seen him.

In the span of three days, it felt as if a week or longer had passed. She could distinctly place where a new began, and ended, but time seemed to pass oddly in Grimmauld Place.

Harry joined them moments later, having changed his clothes, and scrubbed away any traces of battle. "Where's Daphne?" He asked, taking the spot on the far end of Draco's sofa.

"Home," Hermione replied. "You're alright?"

"It wasn't my blood."

Giving little pause at that, Hermione wasn't surprised by that statement. How many more times would she hear those exact words? Electing to get right to the point, Hermione asked, "When will Mad-Eye Moody be here next?"

Harry's knuckles turned white as he squeezed the arm rest. "He'll be here for the next Order meeting, but there's nothing planned. Why?"

Draco licked his finger and turned the page of the Prophet, not minding either of them.

"I'd like to help, if there's anything I can do." Hermione said slowly. "I understand that I'm not you, or Ron, but surely there must be something?"

He bit his lower lip. "Then we'll raise the issue at the next meeting. Right now, you should be worried about hiding, but I know it would make anyone mental."

She sighed, threading her fingers together. "What exactly am I hiding from, Harry? My father?"

"Did Theo not tell you anything?" Harry growled, springing to his feet. "He didn't tell you a goddamn thing, did he?"

Hermione looked at Draco as he laid the newspaper across his lap. She shook her head, watching Harry pace in front of the sofa. "Theo's not been interested in speaking to me. The conversations we do have are short, and they lack substance. Not that I blame him, but there's been no time—"

"There's been nothing but time." Harry snapped. "He's angry, fine. That's not an excuse for leaving you in the dark." He fell back into his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It was a coincidence that you fainted in the study, and he was able to use that as an excuse to bring you here. We received intel last week that Death Eaters have been told to capture you if they can, or kill you on sight."

Draco's eyes narrowed when she looked at him. His jaw was tight. "Why?" He snarled.

"It's not because of You-Know-Who." Harry said. "It's Bellatrix."

A stone sank in her stomach. "How do you know this?"

Harry swallowed, hesitating as he let the silence stretch between them.

She understood in an instant. "There's a spy for the Order in the Death Eaters, isn't there?" It wasn't something Hermione was meant to know, and she stopped before she could ask questions about who it could possibly be. "Theo threatened to lock me inside of the castle a couple of time."

"It wouldn't have been a good idea. Your father is, well..."

"Who's to say he wouldn't allow Death Eaters into our home as well." Hermione whispered. Wiggling her toes and digging them into the plush carpet, she supposed that was all there was to it. Theo had concealed it from her, in the vein of attempting to keep her safe. "I'm sorry to bring you into the middle of our squabble."

Harry told her it was fine, and she heard him, but the cover of the newspaper lying on the floor caught her eyes. Hermione bent to pick it up, smoothing it across her lap.

The article is on the fifth page, sandwiched between miscellaneous articles that hardly amount to anything, but lead formed in her stomach. "Delores Umbridge," Hermione said aloud. "That sounds familiar."

"She opposed you in the Wizengamot hearing after you were attacked. She's a foul, toad like woman, and you said as much yourself." Harry told her.

There was no picture accompanying the article, but she remembered the woman who had been dressed from head to toe in pink vividly. "Hem, hem," still infuriated Hermione just by the memory. "She's the new Defence professor this year. It says here that the Ministry selected her."

There was no need to voice the suspicion that the Ministry wasn't trustworthy as the world around them continually began to shift. Further down the article, which was quite short, but packed with quotes following the short statement after her appointment, Hermione read that Delores Umbridge had been overheard for various prejudiced statements regarding Werewolves, but also Muggleborns.

The news seemed to leave a bad taste in Harry's mouth, who muttered that he would speak to the headmaster about it.

Daphne didn't return the next day, nor did Harry. Theo was still gone, but Harry informed her he was with their father in France.

Hermione woke to Draco grumbling about her hair smothering him, and she scooted away from him, her arm dangling over the side. Counting the cracks in the floor, and scraping them with her nails, she thought he'd gone back to sleep. Until he traced her spin through the thin shirt she wore.

"Come here," he whispered.

Sighing, Hermione slid across the sheets, laying her head on the pillow beside him. "It's early."

Draco nodded, tugging her closer by her hips. He rested his hand on her waist, idly tracing the slope of her curves while she pressed her face into the pillow. "I like this—waking up with you."

She didn't look up. Too afraid that he would notice the way her eyes watered when they shouldn't—it was important to reign in her emotions, and to not let them run rampant—Hermione agreed. Wiping her face against the soft fabric, she looked up at him. "It's nice that I don't have to vanish in the mornings."

"For now," he murmured. Draco propped himself up on his elbow, staring down at her. "It may not last forever though."

Hermione blinked, and stared at him. "Draco—"

He quieted her with a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Don't. It's okay." He whispered. "I'll take all that I can get with you right now, but if something happens to tear us apart, just know that I'll be waiting to wake up with you again."

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck. "Okay." She shuddered.

His arms were tight around her middle as she climbed into his lap. Draco sat up, leaning against the headboard while she straddled him. "I'm sorry that Theo is angry with you." He reached up to push a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry for how your life has changed because of me. Lying to Theo, putting yourself into dangerous situations…"

"Only once."

"Do you think it will be the last time you endanger yourself for me, or someone else?" Draco asked her quietly, his hands coming to rest on her hips.

Well, no.

"I think you would do the same thing for me." She ran the tips of her fingers over a scar leading down his ribs, a waxy stretch of skin that sat above his skin rather than blending in with the rest.

He cradled the back of her head, leaning forward and slanting his lips against hers. Tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue, asking for more, Draco crushed her to him, leaving her shivering in his lap. "You would find that there is no limit of what I would do for you." He growled.

Something flickered between them. Hermione tended to think of the bond between them as a string. One that grew impossibly taut the farther they were from one another, but she had noticed—as had he, she was sure—that lately, it was stretched so tightly that it may snap completely.

She wasn't sure what it meant, and if Draco knew, he didn't tell her.

And she didn't ask either.

He bit her lower lip as his fingers knotted in her hair, urging her closer to him. "Hermione," He groaned when she ground down on him, and her nails raked across his chest. "Full moon tonight." Draco managed.

Hermione tilted her head to the side. "I want all of you, if you're willing."

Draco seized her by her forearms, rolling her onto her back, and pressing her into the matress without a moment of hesitation.

I realise it's been a while since I updated. I'm sorry, and hope that you're still with me, but I'm treading water with this. Next chapter will likely be delayed, but I promise I'm doing my best. Hearing what you think is nice encouragement though if you have time!

Next Chapter Snippet: She counted each second as they ticked by, waiting for the Floo to activate.

When it didn't, she waited. Theo had always been late. This was nothing new.

An hour passed.

Two hours.