Draco watched helplessly as Hermione put her parents out of their misery. His heart ached for her and he just wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be okay, even though he knew it wouldn't. Her hand opened and his wand clattered to the ground, the only other sound in the room being Hermione's broken sobs.

"I'm sorry, Granger," Draco whispered. "For everything."

He expected she would turn on him, even welcomed it if the release of her anger would somehow ease her pain, but she just ignored him. Instead, Hermione reached out for her parents' hands, bringing each one to her cheeks as she rocked back and forth between their bodies.

Suddenly a small groan penetrated the space, followed by a rustle as Greyback began to stir. Before Draco could react, Hermione had released her parents' hands, snatched up his wand from where she had dropped it, and was on her feet with it pointed at the werewolf.

Merlin's balls, Draco cursed himself. I should have taken it back the moment she dropped it!

"Granger!" he said softly. "Don't do anything stupid. Give me back the wand."

"Fuck off, Malfoy, before I turn you back into a ferret," she bit back in reply, and Draco dared not try and take it from her by force. His wandless magic wasn't strong enough for that. Instead, he watched her watching Greyback.

The werewolf sat up with a grunt and a wince, looking around him. Noticing Hermione standing before him with Draco's wand pointed straight at his chest, he chuckled lowly and grinned. "Want to play do you, girly?" he leered. "I'm feeling a bit tender, but don't think that means I'll let you win."

Greyback reached for his wand, but Hermione's Expelliarmus snatched it from his grasp before he had a chance to even aim it at her. He blinked in surprise from his position on the floor as it sailed through the air and landed neatly in her waiting hand.

Draco slowly moved around so he could see Hermione properly, hoping to convince her to at least give him back his wand now that she had Greyback's. Her lip curled in disgust as she twirled his wand between her fingers.

"Even your wand revolts me," she taunted, "It's filthy and animalistic, a rabid beast that needs to be put down. Just like you."

Greyback lifted his lip in a silent snarl. "You better be giving that back, girly, or I'll hurt you so bad you'll scream for death. I don't care what the Dark Lord says about not disfiguring you. Full moon is in another day. I'll lock you in my room and turn you." He paused, considering. "Or maybe I'll just tear you to pieces."

Draco's heart stuttered in fear at his threat. "If you do, I'll turn you over to the Dark Lord myself, and he'll do things to you that will make even you scream, werewolf," he threatened, stepping forward.

Greyback threw back his head and laughed."You, boy? Bullshit. You practically piss your pants every time I walk in the room. You won't be turning me over to anyone."

"Shut up!" Hermione screamed, tightening her grip on Draco's wand. She looked over her shoulder at him for only a second. "Malfoy, I told you to fuck off. Greyback is mine to deal with!"

"But the Dark Lord—" he tried to protest.

"Fuck your Dark Lord," she spat, never taking her eyes from Greyback as she spoke. "He won't give a shit anyway. He hates half-breeds almost as much as he hates my kind. In fact—" Hermione smiled coldly at the werewolf. "He will probably reward me for killing you, Greyback. Sooner or later, he would have betrayed you. If I kill you instead, it will save him the trouble."

Greyback growled furiously and made to lunge toward her, fast despite his size and having been recently stunned, but Hermione was faster. "Immobilus!" The werewolf was stopped in his tracks, the snarl still on his face.

"Granger." Draco said desperately. "At least let me have my wand back. You've got his now."

She looked down at Draco's wand in one hand, then Greyback's in the other, before shrugging and tossing his wand back to him. Draco caught it and sighed with relief to feel its familiar magic in his hand again.

The wand changing hands caused the immobilising spell to be undone, and Greyback continued his forward momentum as if it had never been interrupted. He made it only two more paces, however, before she had him back in the same position, this time turning the werewolf's own wand against him.

I'd hate to duel her, Draco thought to himself. She'd kick my arse. Aloud, he said, "What are you going to do with him?"

Hermione looked at the werewolf as she reflected on her options. "I could use him to take out as many of the Death Eaters as possible," she said thoughtfully. "If I could take them by surprise... They're all drunk and unable to defend themselves or counterattack effectively."

"Are you talking about… Imperiusing him?" Draco asked in shock.

"I hardly think he will agree to up and attack them of his own free will just because I ask nicely," she answered snippily.

"But… the Dark Lord will kill you if you attack his followers," Draco argued feebly.

"Good," Hermione retorted. "It's not like I've got much to live for."

Draco's stomach dropped at the idea of her dying at the Dark Lord's hand. "Please don't, Granger," he begged.

"And why not?" Hermione asked, turning to him. Her eyes were empty, cold, uncaring. Draco knew she was standing on a precipice, one he had to try and pull her back from.

"Because—" Draco desperately tried to think of a reason - any reason! - that might stay her hand while she looked at him impatiently.

"Because you're brilliant, and you're one of the only ones left who could possibly take him down," Draco blurted.

Hermione laughed sardonically, shaking her head. "I can't take him down. No one can. Not until all his Horcruxes are destroyed."

"Hor...cruxes?" Draco asked, frowning in confusion.

Hermione sighed, looking from Greyback to Draco, and sat down on the cold floor of the cellar. Draco quickly followed suit, hoping he could keep her talking until he thought of a plan.

"Back before Harry was even born, he—" she nodded towards the stairs, indicating Voldemort, "—took measures to ensure he couldn't be killed. An insurance policy, if you will."

Draco frowned but nodded at her to continue.

"He discovered that there was a way to store a piece of one's soul inside another object, therefore ensuring that a little piece of the caster's self would continue to exist even if their body was destroyed," Hermione explained. "In this way, it would be possible for them to be resurrected."

"So V— the Dark Lord really did come back from the dead?" Draco asked in shock.

Hermione nodded. "Basically, yes. But part of the spell needed to complete the process involved taking the blood of his greatest enemy, which was why Harry was targeted at the Triwizard Tournament."

"What did the Dark Lord mean when he told Potter there would be no ghosts to save him?" Draco responded, remembering his master's words before the fatal duel had taken place.

"Their wands were brothers. When Harry was forced to duel him, it triggered—"

"Priori incantatem," Draco whispered.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "Harry's wand forced Voldemort's to regurgitate its previous spells - all the people he'd killed the last times he'd used it. The spirits of his victims attacked him, allowing Harry escape the graveyard with Cedric's body."

Draco nodded in understanding, feeling a new respect for Potter. To think that his magical strength and willpower, at only fourteen years old, had been enough to force the Dark Lord's wand to submit to his own was astounding. He said as much to Hermione, and she gave him a small, sad smile.

"Harry was very strong. But he would let himself be led by his emotions and act without thinking. In the end, it got him killed." A tear slipped down her cheek. "Him and Ron both. They should have left Dobby and me, and escaped while they had the chance."

"Potter and Weasley never would have left you behind, and you know it, Granger," Draco said.

"You're right," she replied. "We were a team."

Draco felt hopeful. She was responding. Maybe he would be able to do something, after all.

"Why did you become a Death Eater?" she asked him abruptly, startling him.

Thinking for a moment, Draco fiddled with his wand, unsure how to answer.

"It wasn't by choice," he finally answered.

"What do you mean? Hermione prodded. "I thought you wanted to follow in your father's footsteps." she looked at him in distaste, and he felt a stab of shame at her expression.

"I never wanted this," he continued, gesturing at his left arm in disgust. "Yes, I wanted to be like Father, to please him and live up to the Malfoy name… but I never dreamed that would involve being forced to take the Mark."

"Why were you forced?" she asked softly, her soft brown eyes on him.

"Because Father fucked up in the Department of Mysteries," Draco responded. "Because of that night when he and the other Death Eaters were sent to retrieve the prophecy and ended up in Azkaban. The Dark Lord insisted I join his ranks to punish Father for his failures."

Hermione's face darkened. "So you were made to take the Mark against your own free will? But didn't your parents try and stop it from happening?"

Draco shook his head. "They tried… well, Mother tried. Father was still in prison. Mother pleaded with the Dark Lord to reconsider, to find some other way to seek recompense, but he refused. He had them torture her as punishment for attempting to defy his will. He told me if I tried to resist, or if I screwed up like Father had, that he would kill her."

"He seems to enjoy using loved ones as blackmail," Hermione observed, matter-of-factly. "But then again, most of his supporters chose to join, did they not? Like Snape." She said his name bitterly, as if it left a nasty taste in her mouth.

"Snape… there's more to him than you know," Draco answered. He was thinking of the secret his godfather had entrusted him with, the reason why he had done the things he had.

Hermione snorted in disbelief. "What, like he actually washes his hair more than once a year? Does he braid it at night, tie it up in pretty ribbons?" she asked snidely.

"No!" Draco replied, offended on Severus' behalf. "He's a good man."

"He killed Dumbledore!" Hermione burst out, angrily.

"Only after I failed!" Draco shouted back, desperately. "He promised my mother! He took the Unbreakable Vow!"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, watching him carefully.

Draco took a deep breath. "When the Dark Lord first started talking about giving me the Mark, she went to Severus, begging him to intervene on my behalf. He refused, because he knew it was both pointless and dangerous to try and dissuade him once he had given an order. Instead, Mother asked him to take an Unbreakable Vow to try and keep me safe, and to take over the task I had been given in the event that I failed."

"Harry said he heard you in the Astronomy tower that night," Hermione remembered. "Why did Voldemort order you to kill Dumbledore?"

Sighing heavily, Draco looked at his hands. "I think he knew the whole time I wouldn't be able to do it," he confessed. "I think he hoped I would be killed, or at least sent to Azkaban, for the attempt. Most likely, he just wanted to punish my parents further and was willing to use me to break their hearts. I can't think of any other reason."

Silence fell between them as Hermione processed the information, staring into space with a thoughtful expression. Draco watched her carefully, wishing he knew what she was thinking.

Finally, she turned to look at him again. "Snape is a Death Eater and has been since before the first Wizarding War, and was spying for Voldemort this whole time while pretending to be reformed. How can you possibly say he's a good man, considering the level of betrayal he's capable of? I don't see how his taking an Unbreakable Vow to protect you can possibly redeem him of all the terrible things he's done."

"I told you, there's more to him than you know," Draco insisted. He wished he hadn't said anything, so they wouldn't be having this awkward conversation now.

"So tell me what you know about him that I don't!" Hermione insisted.

Draco glanced over at Greyback, still frozen in place by Hermione's spell. The werewolf showed no signs of being able to break free. "Can he hear us?" he asked nervously.

Hermione shrugged. "Does it really matter? It's not like he'll live long enough to go running to Voldemort with whatever you tell me."

"Why not just kill him now? He's a waste of air. Just get rid of him and be done with it," he suggested hopefully. Maybe if he could goad her into doing it right away…

"Not yet," Hermione said firmly, her eyes sliding to her captive before shooting back over to Draco. "Tell me what you know about Snape."

"If I tell you, I'm putting both him and I and risk," Draco said desperately. "If the Dark Lord finds out…"

"He won't find out," Hermione replied. "Now tell me, Malfoy!"

Typical Granger. Needs to know bloody everything, he lamented.

"Fine, I'll tell you." He paused to think about how to proceed. "You know he went to school with Potter's parents, right?" he checked.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "And Pettigrew, Sirius and Professor Lupin."

"Potter's dad and Severus were enemies," Draco continued. "Potter and his mates used to pick on Severus all the time, play pranks on him, stuff like that. They hated each other."

"Snape hated Harry because he reminded him of James, and he also hated James," Hermione remembered.

"Well, sort of. Did you know that in their first years of school, Severus and Potter's mum were friends?"

Hermione let out a short bark. "I can't imagine Snape being friends with anyone," she replied skeptically. "Let alone someone like Lily."

"Well, they were," Draco retorted defensively. "The best of friends."

"So what happened?"

"Potter's dad came between them. Ultimately, their friendship soured because of it. Severus couldn't stand to see Lily with him. Not only because of how Potter's dad treated Severus, but because…"

"Because why?" Hermione prompted when Draco fell silent.

"Because he loved her."

Hermione stared at Draco in shock. "Snape loved Lily? As in, he was in love with her?"

"Yes," Draco nodded. He felt a stab of guilt at having shared his godfather's deepest, darkest and most closely guarded secret.

"Well, now I've heard everything." Hermione said, throwing her hands in the air in disbelief.

"Severus lost his only friend," Draco continued. "He had always been an outcast, a loner. His home life was unhappy with his horrible Muggle father and his broken mother. He went looking for a new family, one who would accept him for who he was, and that's how he ended up joining the Dark Lord's ranks."

"I still don't see how any of that makes him a good man, Malfoy."

"After Trelawney made the prophecy telling how the Dark Lord would be defeated and he decided to kill Potter and his parents, Severus went to him and begged him to spare her. He didn't care about Potter's dad, just her. He said he would do anything if he would just let her live. The Dark Lord agreed, but then—"

"—he killed Lily, anyway," Hermione finished for him, sadly. "How did Snape react?"

"Outwardly, he did nothing. But when she was killed, it killed a part of him, too. That's why he ended up helping Dumbledore. He was a double agent. He pretended to be gathering information for the Dark Lord, but really, he was collecting information for Dumbledore."

"But how did he avoid getting caught? Dumbledore was always telling Harry to practice his Occlumency to protect his mind from Voldemort. He said he was a powerful Legilimens."

"He is. Perhaps the most powerful, " Draco agreed. "But Sev is a powerful Occulmens. It's why Dumbledore wanted him to teach Potter."

"Harry didn't want to learn," Hermione revealed. ""He didn't want to lose his connection to Voldemort, and he most definitely didn't want to be taught anything by Snape."

"Trust me, Snape hated it just as much," Draco snorted. "But he didn't just teach Potter. He taught me, too. He said I had to learn to protect myself, my family, and him."

Hermione shook her head in denial. "But that makes no sense…" she trailed off, thinking. "But in a way, it does."

"He could help you, Granger!" Draco said urgently, seizing on her newfound knowledge. "He could get you out, help you escape, I'm sure of it!"

"He wouldn't help me," she scoffed. "He hated me almost as much as he hated Harry."

Draco smiled ruefully. "It's true he was never particularly fond of you. I don't know why. You were brilliant at potions."

Hermione smiled at the compliment despite the situation. "I was better than you, even," she teased.

"No you bloody weren't!" Draco retorted. "I was the best in the class, Severus said so!"

"You were his favourite! Of course he would say that," Hermione rebutted, rolling her eyes.

"I'm his godson! He's entitled to prefer me over the others!"

"Favouritism is never acceptable in teaching!"

"Being a swotty know-it-all isn't acceptable either!" Draco burst out. "And besides, you, Potter and Weasley were Dumbledore's favourites! You never got into trouble for anything!"

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. Her cheeks pinkened, and Draco thought how pretty she looked despite the fact she was unwashed and in soiled and ragged clothing.

"I suppose we did get away with rather a lot," she admitted with a wistful smile.

"Including Potter damn near killing me in sixth year," Draco growled, glaring.

"He didn't mean to!" Hermione snapped, rising immediately to Potter's defense. "He had no idea what the spell would do! I told him and told him to hand that textbook in to a teacher, because—"

"—It was giving him a way to cheat at potions, and it burned your arse that he was doing better than you," Draco interrupted, and she shot him another of those terrifying glares.

"Hey, it burned my arse, too," Draco added hurriedly, holding up his hands in surrender. "I wish it had been me that had found that book."

Hermione snorted. "You'd never have gone near it. A tatty, second-hand textbook? Just being in its vicinity would have caused you offense."

"Not if I had known what it would do!"

"Well, that was always your problem, Malfoy," Hermione sighed. "You never bothered to look past the exterior. If you had been able to ignore outward appearances, who knows what you could have discovered?"

Draco hung his head, shame once again burning inside him. She was right, of course. If only he had looked past things like Houses and blood status sooner, he might have had the opportunity to take a very different path. He might have had the opportunity to have something more with the witch sitting across from him. But here they sat, on opposite sides of the war, and she had nothing but contempt for him… didn't she?

"Malfoy…"

Draco looked up. Hermione was chewing her bottom lip uncertainly. "The damage Harry did with that spell… did it—?"

"—leave a scar? Yes. A rather spectacular one."

"Can—may I—?" she stuttered.

"Can you see it?" Draco's mouth quirked up in a small smirk. "I know witches dig scars, but I didn't think that would include you, Granger."

"Fine, don't show me," she grouched. "I didn't really want to see it, anyway."

"Calm down, Granger, I was teasing," Draco said, unbuttoning his shirt. He pulled the fabric open to reveal his torso, looking down at the floor, and heard her sharp inhale as she took in the sight.

Potter's Sectumsempra had left a jagged and deep purple scar that ran from his right hip up to his left shoulder. Though Severus had been able to cast the countercurse in time and the wound had gradually healed, it still pained him often.

"Oh, Malfoy," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" he asked shortly, buttoning his shirt closed again. "You didn't cast the curse."

"But I could have stopped it," she said, guilt edging her voice as she stared down at her hands. "If I had told a teacher, if I had taken the book from him myself…!"

"You can't take responsibility for everyone else's actions," Draco insisted. "Granger — look at me!"

She did, and he felt an electric shock as their eyes met. Instead of looking at him with disdain, or hate, or suspicion, she was looking at him with sadness and sympathy.

"What Potter did — what anyone else does — is not your fault," he insisted. "You simply can't save everyone!"

"I could have saved you," she replied softly. "In sixth year, I knew something was wrong with you. But I didn't do anything. I was too worried about Harry, and Ron, and Voldemort, and—"

Draco's heart stuttered. If only she had tried—! But even if she had, he had been too far gone by then.

"You can't save everyone," he repeated sadly.

"I suppose you're right," she sighed.

Hermione stood up and brushed the dust from her clothes with finality. "Thank you, Malfoy," she said.

"For what?" he asked, staring up at her in concern. Something wasn't right. The look in her eyes…

"Thank you for being kind. For talking to me."

She raised her arm until her wand was pointing directly at him.

Draco threw his hands up in a warding-off gesture, panic fluttering in his stomach. "Granger, wait! Don't do this! I love you—"

Her eyes widened in surprise momentarily before resolve descended once more.

"I have to protect you. I can still do that much, even if I couldn't save you."

"Granger, please—!"

"Obliviate."

Draco was roughly slapped awake, and sat up with a start. Where was he? Looking around, he saw he was in… the cellar? But why? He felt a vague sense of disquiet.

"Get up, Malfoy," the voice said. He looked up into the face of one of the Dark Lord's lesser Death Eaters — he didn't know this one's name. "The Dark Lord wants an explanation!"

"Ex..planation?" Draco stammered, still looking around him in confusion.

A glance into a far corner of the room revealed two bodies, roughly discarded. He recognised the clothing. "Are those… Gra— the Mudblood's parents?"

"Dead. Greyback attacked em, but they died by an Avada," said Nameless. "Now hurry up, the Dark Lord is pissed."

Draco was pulled to his feet, and stumbled up the stairs after the Death Eater. Snatches of memories were coming back to him now. Granger dashing for the cellar, him following… Greyback… he frowned, trying to remember.

They entered the drawing room and Draco gasped in horror. His stomach churned at the grisly sight before him. There was blood everywhere — on the floor, up the walls, all over the furniture… but not only that, there were body parts scattered about. Arms and legs, mostly. But there was also what appeared to be a head — he looked closer, and his gorge rose. He turned away quickly and vomited. Yes, that was definitely a head. McNair's, if he wasn't mistaken.

"Draco!" the Dark Lord snarled. Draco turned to face the man, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Nameless had been right, he did indeed look pissed. Aunt Bella was in her accustomed place beside him, looking equally pissed but also bloodied and battered, as if she had recently been in a fight and very nearly lost.

"You will tell me what happened!" he ordered.

"I don't know what happened, my Lord!" Draco whispered, looking around him in shock.

"We'll soon see!" the Dark Lord replied, pointing his wand. "Legilimens!"

Draco felt the familiar intrusion of the spell as his memories were probed. Recent events flashed before his eyes, as much of a revelation to him as to his master.

Everyone passed out drunk. Screams from the cellar. Granger rushing off, Draco trying to stop her and being pushed back by powerful wandless magic. Draco following her just in time to see her use more wandless magic against Greyback, who had been mauling her parents, and take his wand. Draco trying to stop her once again, but being disarmed and bound instead. Watching Granger summon potions using his wand and trying to help her parents, but then killing them when it was apparent they couldn't be saved. Finally, watching her place Greyback under an Imperius using the werewolf's wand and send him upstairs with the order that he should kill as many Death Eaters as he could find, as violently as possible, and save the Dark Lord for last.

The Dark Lord finally withdrew, leaving Draco gasping. "My Lord— she— the Mudblood… she did this?" he asked, disbelieving.

"It would appear so," his master replied, looking at Draco with suspicion.

"And… where is she now, my Lord?"

Wordlessly, the Dark Lord gestured behind him. Draco craned his neck to look around his chair and saw a small, crumpled form lying in a heap. It had big, bushy hair and elegant, delicate hands. Had he been able to see her face, he would have seen a small upturned nose, brown eyes and a smattering of freckles. He didn't understand why, but a small part of him shattered at the sight and he had to battle valiantly to keep his expression neutral.

"I killed her, of course," he said, sounding vaguely disappointed. "It really is a pity. She could have been so useful. But she has inconvenienced me too greatly, and I could not ignore her actions."

"She ordered that filthy werewolf to attack me!" Bellatrix screeched, enraged. "How dare she!"

"Well, Draco, it seems she was too much for you," the Dark Lord chipped in. "But you had been drinking with the rest of us and were no doubt befuddled, so I will not kill you outright. Just a mild punishment, I think."

He aimed his wand once again.

"Crucio."

Draco screamed.

Two months later

Draco sat up in bed, gasping. He'd had that dream again, and already it was fading.

Quickly, he snatched up the notebook and self-inking quill he had taken to carrying everywhere with him, shrinking it whenever it wasn't in use so he could hide it more effectively. Enlarging the notebook, he quickly scrawled the final vestiges of the visions that lingered.

"No, Granger, don't— I love you!"

Draco looked over his notes and frowned. The dreams had started a few weeks after Granger had sent Greyback on his killing spree, signing her own death warrant in the process. It seemed to be the same dream each time, but he could only ever recall small snatches of it when he awoke. It would give him that same odd feeling of disquiet as he had experienced when he had been slapped awake in the cellar.

There was something missing, a puzzle piece lost that he just couldn't seem to find. He knew there must be more to what his memories of that night told him — deep inside himself, he knew that something was off about the final chain of events. Something to do with what had happened with Granger.

Starting from the first notes he'd made, several days after the first time he had the dream, he read slowly down the list.

"Please.. My parents."

Screaming. Blood. Greyback?

"Fuck your Dark Lord!"

"..I'm so sorry this happened to you."

"I won't forgive you!"

Green flash. Avada?

"Want to play, do you girly?"

"Because you're brilliant..!"

Horkruptures? The D.L has some…?

"It wasn't by choice."

"He won't find out! Now tell me, Malfoy!"

"They were the best of friends."

"He didn't mean to…! He had no idea..!"

"I know witches dig scars, but I didn't think that would include you, Granger..."

"I could have saved you."

"You can't save everyone."

"Thank you, Malfoy. For being kind."

It all made sense, and yet, it didn't. None of these things had actually happened. They couldn't have happened, it just wasn't possible. Granger had bested him using wandless magic, stolen Greyback's wand, subdued Draco and used the werewolf to take down as many of the Dark Lord's ranks as she could before he was inevitably killed, knowing she would be killed herself for her defiance.

Draco's shoulders shook as he quietly wept, cradling the notebook to his chest. The puzzle piece was sliding ever closer. One day soon, maybe he would be able to reach out and grasp it. There was one thing he did know, and that was that he had loved her.

He had loved Hermione Granger, and she was dead, and he was alone.