**Approaches with a nervous smile** Hi everyone! I'm afraid Matched took a backseat- well in fact, all my stories did- in the face of my exams. Oh well, here's another chapter!

Previously: "They waited. They knew we'd be the last ones out." She bit her lip hard. "They were already here, Malfoy."

As Hermione and Draco stood in the entrance of the ominously silent house, her words hung in the air around them. Draco felt as if his every nerve was on fire, filled with adrenaline, but at the same time, his legs felt like they were made of lead. Fear and panic and adrenaline danced on his skin as the faded Mark on his arm throbbed, a cruel reminder of his past. His breathing quickened, and he tensed, the sensory memories associated with that pain, that green mark, those dark robes threatened to overwhelm him. The only thing that kept him on his feet was the knowledge of how badly Granger would kill him if he collapsed in some sort of flashback panic attack at the present moment. Time slowed, then stilled around them. His instincts were screaming a dozen different things: to run, to pre-empt the attack, to try and blast the door open, to yell at Granger for being so fucking stupid as to stay inside with him- but he couldn't. Instead of the cool, calm, assertive front he had hoped to put up, all he could manage was a woefully inarticulate 'Huhh" sound.

A single glance at his companion told him she was his exact opposite. Her eyes blazed determination, her stance casual but confident as her eyes darted around the room. Her entire frame was crackling with electricity, because she had been born to do this. Part of this irritated him beyond belief, that she was so calm, so collected in the face of their situation, but Malfoy was not easily beaten. Her demeanor set him on fire, made him vaguely angry. Subconsciously he felt himself shift his weight into a stance that was closer related to muggle boxing than standard Auror training, and it helped. Muscle memory was a comfort. He had done this before, and he would do it again.

Granger glanced over and made the gesture for them to spread out, which was probably a good idea. The last thing they needed in a duel was to accidentally curse each other. They backed up, circling each others' backs, wands held aloft.

"Show yourselves!" Granger ordered, her voice ringing in the dark gloom of the house. Malfoy barely had time to register the all-too familiar chuckle from behind him before Granger yelled 'Duck!' A table adjacent to them exploded into flames and they whirled to count two cloaked figures advancing quickly upon them. Malfoy dodged a stunning spell intended for him from the taller of the duo, which he registered as interesting, considering Granger had just evaded a killing curse by inches. Orders to kill her, but capture me, he noted, a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach. Curses flew thick and fast in the room, some that Malfoy couldn't even recognize. He disabled his opponent fairly quickly, the man wasn't an accomplished wizard. If he had to guess, he'd say these goons were only messengers, meant to scare them. A particularly nasty curse of Granger's sent her attacked stumbling, howling to the ground, where she promptly Stunned him. Malfoy cast a furtive glance around. He couldn't sense any more attackers, but he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what would happen next, and if he was right it was bad news for both of them. There was only one option.

"Get behind me," he said bluntly, and Granger stared, slack jawed.

"Excuse me?" He gritted his teeth, eyes flashing around the building.

"I'm serious. Do it now, Granger."

"There's nobody here, we need to get out," she hissed. "This was easy, Malfoy."

"Way, way too easy," he muttered, eyes darting around. An uneasy silence settled over them, and he knew she was silently in agreement. A pair of death eaters didn't just attack Ministry officials without good reason. Ah, yes, a nasty voice in his head whispered. But what if they're not Death Eaters after all? He gritted his teeth and gripped his wand harder. Granger crossed to stand beside him, looking puzzled.

"There's…something here, but I can't tell what," she murmured. He turned to look at her.

"Granger, listen to me. On my signal, run like hell. Run out, run away. Go up the chimney, break a window, dig a tunnel. Fuck your Gryffindor courage, just this once," he added when she started to argue.

"Why?" She hissed, and his nerve snapped.

"Why? Because these people aren't death eaters, they are fifty times worse. And if they catch you, I can assure you that they will torture you, kill you and cut you into pieces. Possibly not in that order. So please, do as I ask. Just this once." Granger never had a chance to reply before what he could only describe as an indoor tornado ripped through the house, knocking them both off their feet. Malfoy's Dark Mark burned so badly black spots appeared in the edges of his vision, and somewhere, through the chaos he heard a crack and then a female scream that sounded ominously like the Cruciatus Curse. He tried to push back against the tide of pain, but was outstrengthed. It was like fighting against an ocean, a cracking, despairing blackness without chance of escape. He was aware he was yelling but couldn't hear his own words. A very tall, dark shadow advanced on him, and another followed closely behind. And this time, he couldn't control the flashbacks he had worked so hard to keep at bay…

Crack. Pain. A window shattered. A pale cream wall was suddenly splattered with crimson.

"No, please don't," a voice moaned. "He is gone. I don't know where he went." The voice trembled.

"Liar!" Another snapped, and there was another scream. Another wall was stained.

"Mother!" He screamed, and shoved the woman aside, desperately. "What do you want?" He shouted. "My father is dead! They killed him!" Dark golden eyes stared back at him as the cloak was pulled away.

"Oh, we know," the silken voice replied in a light, complacent tone that made his skin crawl. "We don't want him anymore." The click of boots on the cold stone floor. Golden eyes rich with amusement when he managed to meet them.

"You see, Draco, we want…you."

As quickly as the flashback had come it was over and he was kneeling on the cold stone ground of the house. A tall, robed wizard loomed over him, and another had his back turned, watching a wide-eyed Granger, who'd clearly been disarmed in the recent past. A glance told him she was fine- pale, her lip was busted- but fine. The observation filled him with more relief than was necessary, so he concentrated on the man standing over him. A clattering of wood on stone, and his wand was returned.

"Stand up, both of you," the indulgent, amused voice called out. Malfoy did so, noting the feeling that he was moving through mud, unable to move his feet, or raise his arms. They were helpless in the grasp of this spell- and their attackers knew it. Malfoy watched steadily as the leader, the taller one, removed his hood and smiled coldly at him, making his stomach lurch unpleasantly with the memory. He heard Granger's sharp intake of breath, looking between them in puzzlement.

"The resemblance between us is remarkable, is it not?" The man called, moving to stand next to Granger, who, to her credit, didn't flinch. "I don't believe we've met, but I've heard very much about you, Ms. Granger." He gave her a thin-lipped smile. "My name is Caztor Malfoy."

"You're cousins," she said quietly. He arched an eyebrow.

"Bravo. Not many guess correctly. I am rather less…well-known than my younger cousin."

"Hardly surprising," Granger said, retuning fire. "Your father is a respected businessman. It's not an entire shock he would try to hide his racist, supremacist, psychopathic son, really." Caztor turned to Draco, a smile on his ghostly face.

"Oh, I like her," he whispered in a voice that meant that he most certainly did not. "I do hope you're not going to make me kill her, Draco." His golden eyes met Draco's own, holding them for a few seconds. Draco narrowed his eyes. He wouldn't do it. Granger was one of the Ministry's highest-profile Aurors- violence against her was unwise for both his political standing and general survival. A small smile played on his face.

"Always so stubborn. Hmmn. Oh well," he shrugged, before he turned, faster than Malfoy could comprehend, and there was a flash of green light that rebounded off of Granger. It happened fast. She was thrown into the air and then back against one of the walls, where she slid down the wall and slumped, her head lolling to one side as the green light faded around her.

"No!" Malfoy yelled, lunging forwards in an attempt to fight the curse. Horror-struck he stared down at her, unable to speak, to form words or even coherent thoughts. Granger. Dead. My fault.

"Relax, Draco, she's still alive," Caztor chuckled, guesturing to the faint rise and fall of her chest he had, in his panic, managed to miss. "Consider this your final warning, cousin. Do ask you have been asked. You know the consequences, not only for her, but for- oh, what's his name? Zabini? Not to mention my dear Auntie. How is your mother, by the way? Enjoying France?"

"I will kill you, Caztor," he promised through gritted teeth. The other man chuckled.

"Are empty threats a part of the Ministry's job description, or do they just creep up on you? I'll be in touch." And with no more than a sardonic smile, he apparated, taking the curse with him. The second Malfoy managed to crash to the ground next to Granger, there was a smash at the door as Blaise and Potter managed to bring the door down.

"What happened?" Pavarti gasped. "We saw green light and-Hermione?"

"She'll be fine," Malfoy said, rather shakily. "It's just a stun. We only got one of them," he said guesturing to where Grangers' fallen attacker lay, still out cold. By the time they were out of the house and had apparated back into the ministry infirmary, Granger had started to stir. Potter stuck his head into the waiting room ten minutes later.

"She's awake and arguing with the medics, so she'll be alright," Potter announced, relief clear in his demeanour. His gaze turned to Malfoy. "She wants to see you," he muttered, shouldering past, and he went in, standing awkwardly in the door. He cleared his throat.

"Um, hey." She turned and sighed.

"Hi. Are you okay?" He nodded, not trusting his voice. Not trusting himself not to say something stupid, like I'm sorry, it was my fault, I thought you died or I'm glad you're okay.

"What happened…after?" She asked. Malfoy shrugged, the response of deceit coming instantly, instinctively. He didn't even have to think about it, and it scared the hell out of him.

"I Stunned him, and he Stunned me back. I thought I had him, but they managed to Apparate before I had a chance to do anything." She sighed, accepting this explanation after a minute of analysis. Not really knowing what he was doing, he crossed to the bed and sat down next to her. As he did so, the full force of the day's exhaustion hit him and he fought not to close his eyes right there.

"M-malfoy?" She asked tentatively, and he looked up into an intense hazel gaze that startled him. Though bleary-faced her eyes were sharp, studying him. Her eyes said she knew. They said 'I know you're not telling the truth, but I'm not going to push you.' And for than he was overwhelmingly, stupidly grateful.

"What?" He yawned tiredly. She bit her lip, looking a good five years younger than she was.

"Can we go home?" She asked, voice wavering, her question hanging in the air between them. It caught him off guard. The Draco Malfoy of a month, or even a week ago would have snorted, made some cruel comment and walked out, but he couldn't do that. Instead he sighed, momentarily looking down in a oh fuck what am I doing moment, before he shrugged, then nodded.

"Yeah. Let's go home, Granger," he said quietly. He knew this solitude, this understanding between them wouldn't last very long. Maybe an hour. Maybe the night. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was here and that for some strange, peverse reason, he wanted to be near her. Her presence helped him calm his shaking, helped force back the flood of memory threatening to overwhelm him. Maybe if he was really lucky, he wouldn't have too many nightmares tonight. Yes, in some very wrong, twisted way, Hermione Granger was good for him.

He also knew that he could never let it show, never tell her.

Because the second they found that out, for all of her courage, all of her bravery, Hermione Granger would wish she was dead.

I will start the next chapter really soon, hopefully! Until then, leave me some comments, questions, criticisms- reviews are fantastic encouragement!