Malfoy Manor Late September 1997

Impossible.

That was the only word for the creature before him.

It was a hulking figure. A black, misshapen mountain that blocked out the stars. The creature was bigger than a troll, probably smaller than a giant, but somehow it took up so much more space. Its massive shape occupied the entirety of his vision, the shifting outline blurring with the surrounding darkness into one continuous nightmare.

It's everywhere.

With each intake of breath, the monster seemed to draw air from Draco's own lungs, feeding on his terror like a fiery dementor. He couldn't catch his breath; it came in short gasps as the panic overtook him. The stench of death and rotting flesh filled his nose and he choked. On his tongue he tasted coppery blood, his own or someone else's, he couldn't be certain. There had been so much of it. So much blood.

Draco had felt a heavy foreboding in the pit of his stomach from the moment his father told him of the Dark Lord's newest scheme. He had watched as their leader strode around his front hall, cloak drifting across the marble floors he had once toddled about on when he was young. In truth, that wasn't long ago. After all, he was only 17, but war ages the young faster than time.

The Dark Lord had drawn an odd shape in red on the spotless marble. The red was the blood of some muggle he killed, her corpse was slumped carelessly against the wall. Draco thought she might be watching him.

White eyes, red blood.

Draco did not recognize the spells the Dark Lord performed, nor did he know the language in which he spoke them. It was a harsh sound, somewhere between a death rattle and a screamed whisper. He didn't have long to wonder about the words. The creature rose from the bloody circle, wreathed in smoke, eyes aflame. It did not stay contained as the Dark Lord assumed it would, and they all scattered and fled as it unleashed its rage upon his childhood home and every soul in its path.

The creature killed without discretion. Auror and Deatheater blood stained the marble steps of Malfoy Manor an angry scarlet. Another loud crack sounded as someone nearby apparated away, startling Draco from his frozen panic. The jumble of screams, cracks, and shouted curses echoed in his ears, but he could barley hear the chaos over the pounding of his heart and the rushing of blood in his ears.

The Aurors had been a surprise. Draco was pretty sure they received a bigger surprise than they gave. It didn't matter that they were there; this creature was on no one's side.

From his position behind the low stone fence separating a small courtyard from the main lawn, Draco could see bright flashes of light. People were apparating, some running, momentarily forgetting their magic in an effort to escape the great creature looming on the porch steps. It burst through wall, flinging the doors from their hinges and showering the lawn with crumbled marble.

A soft sound of pain came from Draco's left. He whipped his head towards the sound, eyes coming to rest on a figure squirming feebly in the grass a few feet away.

The man, wrapped in a nondescript, black cloak with a hood obscuring his face, was pinned by the leg under a chunk of marble, his wand had rolled away and was resting by the toe of Draco's shoe. He extended a hand to Draco in a pleading gesture.

Help me.

Under any other circumstances Draco would've ignored him. This was a desperate situation that he wasn't sure he could make it out of in one piece, especially if he stopped to help every person he came across. The people running around him were all enemies to Draco. A Deatheater would use him as a diversion, tripping him for the creature to kill. An Order member would mistake him for a Deatheater and kill him or leave him to die.

There was no one to trust. Not a single familiar face.

Draco looked at the stranger's hand, straining to reach him. He pulled his wand from his jacket and levitated the debris off of the stranger. Draco grasped the hand and pulled the man to his feet. A strangled groan of pain tore from the man's mouth and he pitched forward, unable to hold himself upright. Draco caught him, guiding him to the wall. The stranger grasped the mossy stones and Draco released him, drawing his arms back. His hands and shirtsleeves were slick with blood. The stranger clutched his leg, it was undoubtedly broken. Draco knew that no one in that condition could escape unaided, but survival was for the selfish. And Malfoy was selfish by birth.

He would've run then, but a sudden, hot pain pierced his head like a bludger connecting with his skull. He turned, clutching his head, and froze, his blood running cold. The creature's blazing eyes were fixed upon him. He could feel them burning through him, entering his veins. Sickly yellow ringed the bright red irises. It let out a howl like a thousand Crucio curses meeting their marks in an agonized chorus. It charged.

It leapt at him, covering half the lawn in a single bound, shaking the earth where it landed, the grass around its feet faded rapidly to brown before catching ablaze.

Draco felt a hand grip his arm and he whirled to face the stranger. His eyes were illuminated by the dancing flames that encircled the creature. They were a warm, piercingly familiar green, round glasses reflecting the light.

"Take my hand," he growled. Draco didn't hesitate. He grasped the proffered hand, clinging to it like a lifeline. His surroundings whipped into a blur. Blackness engulfed his vision, everything faded. Everything but the two scarlet eyes, which continued to burn behind his eyelids.

Somewhere in the Forrest of Dean

Hermione Granger paced nervously along the edge of the clearing, her shoes crunching the fallen leaves with each measured step. She chewed furiously on a cuticle as she threw a worried look into the darkness of the forest beyond.

Where was Harry?

He'd been gone for hours. The other Order members had returned from what was meant to be a quick in-and-out surveillance mission several hours ago, bloody and shaken, full of horrible tales of the terrifying monster that greeted them at the Manor. But not Harry. Strictly speaking, Harry wasn't meant to go on any of the missions, but he was stubborn and refused to sit around the camp while others took his risks for him. He followed the unwitting raiding party completely undetected, to the horror of Lupin and several others who nearly turned right around to go back for him.

A small team had been assembled and apparated back to search, while everyone else succumbed to the exhaustion of the night, one by one heading for their tents.

Hermione offered herself for the night watch knowing full well that she would not be able to sleep. Though it wasn't just her worry for Harry that was keeping her awake. The past few months had been difficult for Hermione. Summer had taken a heavy emotional toll on her, beginning with her decision to Obliviate her parents and relocate them to Australia for their protection.

A small cough from behind startled Hermione from her thoughts. Ron Weasley was standing a few meters away shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Can I join you?" His expression was hesitant, his voice soft.

Ron was another cause of Hermione's recent insomnia.

In the weeks that followed Dumbledore's death, the whole school was in mourning. Harry insisted that he needed some time alone to think, so she and Ron left him to grieve, though neither really thought leaving him would do much to help. They believed it would be better to grieve together than alone. So together they stayed, growing closer in Harry's absence.

One hot, rainy night in July, Hermione appeared on the front step of the Burrow, soaked through and broken after saying goodbye to her parents. Ron held her late into the night as she cried. They kissed to forget the pain, the world, the war. They kissed because they needed assurance that they were not alone. When they awoke the next morning, limbs tangled, faces coated in dry tears, they knew it was not meant to be permanent. So it was with a last long look that the two decided the night's events were best left unmentioned.

The pair sat side by side on the ground, their knees didn't touch. Then Ron took her hand.

"Hermione, do you remember that night in July?"

She let out a long breath, preparing herself for the conversation she hoped to never have.

"Of course I do." Her voice was sad, heavy.

"You have always been special to me, Hermione. You know that. You and Harry are my best friends."

She swallowed the thick feeling of tears that burned in her throat, dreading Ron's words.

He doesn't ever want to speak to me again. This is too painful for him or worse…what if he tells me he loves me? Would I say it back? Would I be lying?

"That won't ever change, Hermione." He squeezed her hand lightly.

Hermione looked at him, surprised.

"I won't ever stop needing you to boss me around, or wanting to have you with me. We don't have to be in love for me to love you." His voice was soft; his hand was warm.

She felt lighter with every word he spoke, shocked as she was that he was articulating what she hadn't managed to form into a coherent thought. While she'd been busy worrying, Ron Weasley had figured it out for her. And she was so grateful.

She held onto his hand with both of hers.

"Ron, I don't want you to think that night was a mistake. I don't think it was. You're my best friend and I'm glad I got to experience that with someone I know I'll always love. I don't regret it. I'm sorry I can't love you like I planned, but I'll love you however I can, Ron, truly." Tears slid down her cheeks, but they weren't sorrowful.

Ron pulled her into a tight hug.

"Love you, Mione," he mumbled into her hair.

"Love you too, Ron."

The tension was gone, Hermione's shoulders relaxed, and for the first time in months, she felt light again.

Then Ron leapt to his feet, pointing into the darkness.

Draco's landing was certainly less than graceful.

He was sprawled across the mossy earth, a rock digging into his ribs, and a horrible pain in his head. He cast his eyes around for his companion, his incredibly ironic companion.

Sure enough, several meters away, clutching his broken leg, face twisted in pain…was none other than Harry Potter.

"Oi Potter," Draco spat, "the hell do you think you're doing waltzing up to the Dark Lord's camp in the middle of a war? I knew you were stupid, but I didn't have you pinned as suicidal."

"Malfoy, stop making me regret taking you with me. I could've left you there you know," Harry growled.

"You wouldn't have left me, Potter. You may hate me, but you're too bloody noble for your own good."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Even the noble make mistakes…"

Draco snorted, rolling his eyes.

Harry attempted to rise on his obviously broken leg, hissing in pain before shifting his weight to his other leg.

"Come on, Malfoy." He picked up a decent sized branch to use as a crutch and began to hobble off into the forest.

"You don't really believe that I'd be fool enough to go anywhere with you, Scarhead. You'll hand me over to your little friends and I'd be dead before I can pull out my wand."

"I guess you'd better work on your reflexes then, ferret." Harry continued to limp away.

Draco was about to turn right around and go the very opposite direction from Potter, when a thought occurred to him.

Where was he planning on going? Certainly not back to his old home and that creature. Potter may be an idiot, but he has some sort of plan. Surely the Great Harry Potter wouldn't go hobbling off into the forest, the Dark Lord hot on his heels, without one. Then again…Granger always seemed to be the one with the plans.

"Malfoy." Harry's voice cut into his thoughts. "Come on."

"You're awfully bossy aren't you, Potter," Draco drawled before quickening his pace to catch up with his hated rival.

After roughly an hour of walking in silence, Draco was exasperated.

"Do you even know where you're going, Potter?"

"Obviously," Harry spat. "What I don't know is why I thought it was a good idea to bring you. Surely your little Deatheater mates will be worried, won't they?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Hardly."

Though he was being sarcastic, Harry was a bit surprised.

"You don't think they'll come looking for you?"

Draco gave a derisive snort. "Of course not, stupid. Deatheaters look out for themselves, not each other. They won't come after me." There was an edge to Draco's voice.

Harry was quiet for a moment. "Why did you help me, Malfoy?"

"To be fair, I didn't know I was helping you,Potter."

"But you've just said that Deatheaters don't look out for anyone but themselves."

Draco spun to face him. "Well forgive me, Potter! I'm a bit new to this whole Deatheater thing and I'm still learning. I won't be making such mistakes in the future, satisfied?"

Harry scowled and stopped walking.

"Oh no need to stop on my account, Potter," Draco continued, irritated.

Harry cut him off. "Do shut up a moment will you, Malfoy."

Before Draco had time to retort, another voice echoed through the clearing, a voice too feminine to be Potter. Draco glanced around, but there was no one else there. They were alone.

"Harry?" came the sound once again. Potter seemed unperturbed by the disembodied voice. Typical.

Draco conjured up several comments in his mind, most regarding Potter's questionable sanity, but before he had time to voice them, the air before him shivered. Seconds later, where there was previously an empty clearing, were several lines of tents with small pathways lit by jars of blue flame. Standing in front of the tents was a pair of familiar faces: Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Both of whom looked quite relived to see Harry, and more than a little worried at the sight of Harry's odd companion.

"Who's that you've got with you, Harry?" Called Weasley, as Granger began to move about apparently lifting the protective enchantments to allow the pair through.

"No one you'll be happy to see," muttered Harry darkly.

When Ron finally got a good look at Draco, he purpled with rage.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS GIT DOING HERE?!"

Draco smirked. "I came by for a cup of tea and a nice chat, Weasley. Though you really ought to be politer to your guests, what would your poor mother say, hm?"

Ron looked ready to leap at Draco, but Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder, restraining him. She looked to Harry for an explanation.

Harry sighed heavily. "He saved my life, Hermione. I couldn't leave him behind. I'm sure you've heard stories from the others about that thing. It was horrible, Hermione. I couldn't leave him there to die."

"WHY THE BLOODY HELL NOT," bellowed Ron.

"Please, Ron, you'll wake the whole camp," Hermione said gently.

"Manners, Weasley, manners. Even the Mudblood has got some," Draco tutted.

Hermione eyes blazed and she rounded on him, wand at his throat in a flash. Draco swallowed.

"Malfoy, I swear on my status as a witch that I will hex you into oblivion if you ever dare use that word around me again. You'll be thrown out into that forest. I'm sure your leader's new I beast would be delighted to have a go at his master's most recent deserter."

"I'm no deserter," muttered Malfoy.

"Excellent, so you'll be leaving soon? I'd hate to cut your delightful visit short, but we have a war to deal with and haven't got time to babysit the Dark Lord's pet ferret," she spat venomously.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. He stepped forward until he was looming over Hermione.

"I'm no one's pet, Granger. Make no mistake."

Harry cut in, shooting a glare at Malfoy and stepping between the two.

"Calm down both of you. Hermione, we need to take him to Mad Eye, let him decide what to do." Hermione nodded curtly; Ron still looked faintly purple.

With that, Harry bid his friends goodnight. Ron strode off towards his tent. Hermione gave Harry a quick hug, still looking a bit concerned for him, glancing at his leg a few times, before seating herself against the large boulder she and Ron had previously occupied.

"Let's go, Malfoy." Harry nodded towards a large tent near the end of the row.

Draco glanced back at the boulder once more to find Hermione eyeing him suspiciously.

"Goodnight to you too, Granger," he said with a smirk.

Hermione frowned, Draco turned and followed Harry into the night.

"Hand me your wand Malfoy," said Harry, halting suddenly.

"Not on your life, Potter. You honestly think I'd hand you my only defense? Do you think I'm an idiot?" Draco glowered at Harry.

"Would you really like me to answer that, Malfoy?" Harry snorted. "You'd best hand it over peacefully before… "

Harry stopped mid sentence as a pair of men emerged from the tent. Draco whirled around, leveling his wand at them.

There was a quick burst of red light from the tip of Harry's wand, as Draco's flew from his hand and landed several meters away in the grass. One of the two figures summoned the wand, pocketing it.

Draco recognized them both after a close look. One was Remus Lupin, looking weary as ever, the dark smudges of many restless nights under his eyes. The other was a tall, formidable wizard known as Mad Eye Moody. Both his eyes, black and darting electric blue, were fixed distrustfully on Draco.

"Harry, would you care to explain what Draco Malfoy is doing at our camp?" Lupin spoke calmly, but he didn't take his eyes away from Draco.

"Well…" Before Harry could begin his explanation, Mad Eye pounded his great staff on the ground once, and Draco felt his entire body go suddenly rigid, as he collapsed.

When Lupin spoke again he sounded more worn than he had the last time Draco had seen him.

"Now Mad Eye, was it really necessary to place a full body bind on the boy?"

"Couldn't hurt," Mad Eye grunted.

Draco felt himself being levitated into the tent, as Harry and the others moved inside. Lupin lowered the immobilized Draco onto a cot.

"Now, Harry, if you'd please…" began Lupin.

"What in the name of sweet Merlin were you thinking, Potter!" Mad Eye was glaring at Harry, his electric blue eye darting towards Draco every few seconds. Lupin sighed tiredly.

"Professor Lupin, if you wouldn't mind, could we do something about my leg before we get into explanations?" A glimmer of pain flashed across Harry's face as he adjusted his injured leg.

Lupin left then tent and returned moments later followed by a girl with medium length, black hair and sharp, brown eyes. No doubt the girl had been asleep before Lupin fetched her, as her hair was stull mussed and her eyes were slightly glazed.

"I'm not sure if you are acquainted with Miss Leanne Davies. She is a dear friend of your former Chaser, Miss Katie Bell, and arrived with several others not long after the raiding party left. She has generously offered her Healing skills for our use. Lupin ushered the girl forward.

"Hello Harry, I believe we've spoken briefly. Back when Katie was," she cleared her throat, throwing a cautious glance at Draco, "injured."

Harry nodded as Leanne set about mending his leg.

After she had finished, Harry and Lupin thanked her. With Harry assuring her that he would check in with her periodically to see how it was healing, she headed back to her tent.

"Now Harry," Lupin glanced at Mad Eye, as if waiting for another interruption, but the man remained silent, so he continued, "would you care to explain how you managed to find yourself in the company of Mr. Malfoy?"

For a moment, Harry looked strained, as though he wasn't entirely sure how he'd gotten himself into this situation. He did his best to explain, looking rightfully sheepish when discussing his choice to disobey direct orders to remain at the camp, and run off after the raiding party instead. He described the creature in horrifying detail. Draco would have shuddered had he been able to move.

Both Lupin and Mad Eye listened intently when Harry reached the part in which Malfoy stopped to help him, looking rather surprised.

Harry locked eyes with Lupin. "He saved my life. I couldn't leave him to die owing him that."

Lupin nodded. "The only question now is what we are to do with him. We certainly can't send him back to the Deatheaters after all he has seen. I suppose he ought to stay here."

Harry looked upset, but he remained silent.

With a quick flick of his wand, Lupin had Draco sitting up, able to move all but his hands once again. His wrists were still held together with an invisible rope.

"You really ought to learn a thing or two about hospitality," Draco snarled at the three wizards. "Not that I don't feel incredibly welcome." He raised his bound hands emphatically.

"Just a precaution Mr. Malfoy," Lupin said calmly. "Surely you understand?"

Draco understood, but he didn't have to be happy about it.

"If you wouldn't mind, Potter, I'd like my wand back." Draco glared at Harry.

Before Potter or Lupin could speak, Mad Eye cut across them. "Absolutely not."

"I will be holding on to Mr. Malfoy's wand until I feel he can be trusted," Mad Eye snapped roughly.

Draco was furious.

"Not bloody likely, old man! Give me my wand!" Draco jumped at Mad Eye, but crashed to the ground with a quick flash of Mad Eye's wand.

Before Draco could say another word, Mad Eye had snatched Draco's wand from Harry, who was watching the scene unfold from a chair in the corner, and held it from both ends. He began to bend the wand, as if he meant to snap it in two.

"NO," Draco yelled. "WAIT!"

Mad Eye glared down at Draco. "If you so much as pinch anyone at this camp, I will personally snap your wand in half. The middle of a war is no time to be wandless, Mr. Malfoy."

With a short nod towards Lupin and Harry, Mad Eye swept out of the tent, taking Draco's wand with him.

Draco felt numb. His wand was gone. It was in the hands of a certified lunatic with trust issues. Bloody spectacular.

Lupin regarded him with something dangerously close to pity. He unbound Draco with another quick wave of his wand. Draco rose slowly to his feet, eyes narrowed in anger.

Potter was looking at him with an expression of distaste. Lupin, as if sensing the animosity in the tent, suggested that Harry go back to his tent. Harry nodded, glanced at Draco once more, and left.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you cooperate and at least try not to antagonized everyone who tries to help you, your stay with us need not be unpleasant." Lupin gave him an imploring look.

Draco scowled.

Lupin sighed, resolved to Draco's stubbornness. "Come with me and we'll see if we can't find you a tent."

Draco trailed after him; the tent flap fluttering closed behind him.

What had he gotten himself into now?