An imminent threat to Draco's very existence leaves him with no other option than to trust his life to the one person that has every reason not to care about what happens to him. Can the pair move beyond their past before the demons that haunt them find a way to cut short their future?

Shakespeare and Scars

Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy peered warily around the dark, dingy back alley. A well fed rat scurried between bins as he turned to Harry and asked, "Do you really think this is going work?"

"I don't know but since we haven't been able to catch the people trying to kill you I'd say it's your best option at this point," the dark haired auror sighed. "Did you do everything I told you?"

Draco nodded. "I'm wearing the muggle clothes you sent over. Rucksack is empty save for my wand which I placed in the special case you provided. No other magical items. Wallet you gave me with a little local currency is in my pocket."

"What about the directions?"

"Memorized them and then burned the paper. Twice - just to be sure."

"Good. Keep your head down and get there as quick as possible. Your contact will take it from there."

"Who am I going to meet?"

Harry shook his head firmly. "Can't tell you that. If you were captured on the way they could force the information out of you and I cannot have this asset compromised."

"What about you? We both know there is a leak in your office. One of these escaped Death Eaters could do the same to you."

"They could try," Harry said, pulling a flask from his coat pocket. "Except as soon as you walk out of this alley I'm going to drink this and forget everything that has happened in the past two days." He tapped his forehead next to his now faded scar. "They can dig around in here all they want - the information will have been erased."

Draco shifted his feet and asked, "Potter...this asset. Do you trust them?"

Without hesitation Harry answered, "Absolutely."

He handed Draco a pair of dark sunglasses. "Now, pull the hood of the sweatshirt up and wear these. Maintain a low profile and follow the directions exactly. And whatever happens, don't get my asset killed. 'Cause if you do - you'll wish the death eaters would have found you first."

He unscrewed the top of the flask and raised it towards Draco. "Goodbye, mate. Good luck. Cheers."

As Harry took a deep swig, Draco stepped out of the alley and paused for just a moment to acclimate himself to the sensory onslaught of modern day London. He took a deep breath then set off to the rendezvous point.

He arrived safely and was surprised to find his destination was a seedy, rundown hotel. He hurried up the grime covered, dimly lit stairway to the room in question, knocked once then four times then twice again as instructed then entered. Once inside someone stepped up behind him, slammed the door and pulled his hoodie down. He whipped around to see that the person in question was none other than Hermione Granger. It took a second for her identity to register as her hair was now cut to above her shoulders.

Draco froze then started to say, "Grang..?" but she quickly covered his mouth with her hand.

"Shhh! Remember the locator spell they used during the war to track people using You Know Who's name?"

Draco nodded.

Hermione spoke in a quick, low tone. "We have reason to believe they've the same with you. So from now on your name is Derek and mine is Grace. The same goes for any other proper names of people we know and places in the magical world specific to our history - don't use anything they might have marked as being even remotely connected to you. Got it?"

He continued to stare dumbly so this time she nodded his head for him. "Good. Now...what is my name?"

She released his mouth and he managed to stammer, "G-Grace."

"Excellent. Now - we are going to assume that we only have a short amount of time here so you keep practicing names while I take care of this." She ran her hand through his hair then started down the hall. Draco remained stock still, gaping at her. She turned and glared at him.

"What is wrong with you? You act like you've seen a ghost," she snapped.

"I have. I...we..." Draco took a deep breath. "You disappeared not long after the war ended - while they were still rounding up the last of You Know Who's supporters. You've been gone so long that the prevailing sentiment is...was...you had died."

"Well, as you can see, rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," Hermione said as she made a sweeping gesture into another room. "I'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much, so if you don't mind we need to get a move on."

Draco finally managed to get his legs to work and allowed Hermione to hustle him into a bathroom where she had bin bags lining the floor and hair dye, gloves and scissors set up on the sink.

"What's all this?"

"THIS is how we change an albino ferret into something a bit more camouflaged. Now take off your shirt."

"Excuse me?!" squeaked Draco.

"I'm guessing they didn't think to send you with a change of clothes and I'm not sure when we will get to a shop or one of my safe houses. A white shirt covered in hair dye is going to be a bit of a giveaway if someone is looking for us, don't you think? So off with it."

"Why can't you just glamour me or use polyjuice?"

"Merlin's Beard! I would have thought you would have figured that out already," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Magic leaves a residue that can be traced. It's the one downside to hiding you in the muggle world - magic stands out a bit more. However it also provides us with a distinct advantage. I can get around easily without using magic - the ones looking for you can't. As long as we keep our use of magic to an absolute minimum then we can track them but they can't track us."

She pulled a delicate silver locket from around her neck. "This locket is made from a similar material as the wand case they gave you but instead of acting as a cloaking device - like the case - this acts as a sort of early detection mechanism for magic. It lets me know if there is any magic being used in the area and gives me an idea of how close. The more magic they use the stronger their signature is, the warmer this gets, thus giving us a slight edge in avoiding them."

She grabbed a towel and ruffled his hair. "Long story short, unless it is an absolute emergency, for all intents and purposes we are now squibs. And since your hair is your most distinguishing physical characteristic, it has to change so...lose the shirt."

When he hesitated she placed a hand on her hip and snapped, "It's either that or I shave you bald. Your choice. I don't care. I'm good either way."

Draco reluctantly pulled off the hoodie, working hard to mask his discomfort as the action revealed a legion of scars covering his torso. Hermione couldn't help but notice that some even dropped below the waistline of his jeans and she felt an uncharacteristic pang of sympathy for the man. Without making a fuss she draped the towel over his shoulders in such a way as to cover most of them then pulled up her sleeve to reveal her own scar as she began putting on the gloves to apply the hair coloring.

"It's okay. At least your scars don't spell anything."

He sat for a minute then gestured towards her forearm and quietly asked, "Can they see it?"

Hermione mixed the dye and began applying it to his hair. "Who? Muggles? Yes."

"Do they know what it means?"

"No. I usually keep it covered by wearing long sleeves but on occasion it slips out. When that happens, some people will stare but most have the decency not to say anything. One advantage of being British, I suppose. " She gave a forced smile. "I tell those that do ask that I was a rebellious teenager and it was the name of my boyfriend's band."

Draco lifted an eyebrow. "And they believe that about you?"

"You'd be surprised what people will believe. Besides, almost everyone has at least one stupid mistake in their past that they don't like to talk about. Most people rush to change the subject so I won't ask what their screw up was."

He paused then motioned awkwardly at the faded dark mark on his arm. "And if they see...this?"

"Won't mean anything to them. They will just think it's an interesting design. Muggles get tattoos with weird symbols like that all the time."

"Why?"

"Don't know. Never understood the attraction myself but to each their own I suppose."

She worked in silence for several minutes until Draco asked, "What color are you making it? "

"Red." Seeing the horrified expression in the mirror she snorted back a laugh. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself. Don't worry - ginger is almost as obvious as platinum out here. Your new color will be..." She glanced over at the box. "Honey Blonde. Didn't want to go too far away from your natural color since it will have to blend in with your facial hair." She gestured towards the three day growth on his face. "Good choice not to shave. Different from the last time most of those assassins saw you. That'll help. "

Hermione set a timer then shoved him from the chair. "Alright. While that sets up it's my turn." She sat down and handed him the scissors.

"Gran..." She poked the scissors into his chest and glared at him. "Grace...what are you doing?"

"Face it - my hair is just as much a tip off as yours. If they have spies looking for either of us that will be the description they will start with - a man with silver blonde hair and gray eyes and a woman with long, bushy brown hair. I started cutting mine this morning but I ran out of time before I could finish. I wasn't given much warning and there was a lot to take care of, so... " She shoved the scissors in his direction. "Can you please even up the back for me?"

He hesitated then took the scissors and started in on the task, trying to remember anything of value from the times his mother had forced him to wait for her at the salon. As he worked it occurred to him that Hermione's hair was much softer than he imagined it would be. To distract himself from these thoughts he asked, "How did you know I was coming?"

"I got a coded message from Ha...our mutual friend with the scar."

"What did it say?"

"It didn't say anything. A book about the poaching of endangered animals was left at one of our regular drops. A passage about how albino creatures were particularly at risk had been underlined and a section regarding animal sanctuaries had been dog eared. A specific page had been marked with three small stars which indicated today's date. I sent a package back through a secure channel along with strict instructions that it not be opened until this morning as far from his office as possible and only after he had scribed the area for unwanted guests. I am assuming you were there when he did this?"

"Yes. He gave me these clothes, the wand case and the rucksack after he followed the instructions he'd been provided. He destroyed everything else except a flask then left me in a back alley a few blocks from here."

"Good." As he continued to trim, Hermione pointed at some papers lying near the sink, "I had a recent tabloid from the wizarding world, so using the most current photo of you that I could find, I created documents listing your name as Derek Mason and your birthday as July 6th, 1980. I tried to keep things as close to the truth as possible to make it easy to remember. Same initials and moving your birthday up one month and one day."

"You knew my birthday?"

"That's what I do, Derek. I read and I know things."

"Well, it's good to know that Grace is just as bossy as Herm..." She gave him a sharp stare and he swiftly corrected himself, "...as bossy as ever."

She stuck out her tongue and he gave a half smile, half smirk in return.

"Fine. Derek Mason, July 6th. Got it. What do I do for a living?" Draco asked.

"We are both university students travelling on a gap year."

"Okay. Derek Mason. University student. Gap year. What about you? What's your last name in case I'm asked?"

Hermione took a deep breath and held up her left hand. For the first time he noticed there were two rings on her fourth finger. "Allow me to introduce Grace Mason. Your wife."