When Draco awoke, he was flying through the air, facing the sky, as he had on the way to his very first official Death Eater meeting. He had a revolting, stomach-twisting flash of déjà vu, but it ended when he thudded to the ground, looking up at the leaves of a tree. Hermione's face appeared above him, white against the dark sky. "Draco, you're bleeding," she said quietly.

"Oh, yes," Draco felt the dried blood crusted on his face. He remembered struggling through the pile of rubble and winced. "Ow. It hurts."

Hermione did not seem inclined to be sympathetic.

"Hey, I can see you now," he said.

"Yes, I was illusioned again when they had me stunned," she stated flatly.

"Illusioned?"

"Yes, Ron and I disillusioned ourselves so they couldn't see us."

Draco sat up suddenly, feeling the ground sway as he did so, and looked around. Death Eaters were scattered across the lawn, stunned or sitting glumly, hands and legs magically bound. Ministry officials were swarming around the place. They were finishing tying up Death Eaters, or questioning the Death Eaters as to where the many others had disapparated to. "What happened?"

"You were out for much longer this time," she said, pushing him down so he lay on the ground again. "Almost half an hour. Try not to move around too much. McGonagall got here first, along with several members of the Order. Then came the Ministry, and then Dumbledore."

"Well? Where's Ron? What about Harry?"

"They're fine, but you're not. Don't go to sleep," she ordered brusquely.

"Voldemort?"

"Harry killed him," she said, sounding very tired.

The sky behind Hermione swayed dizzyingly and Draco blacked out again.

---

Draco woke up in the bright morning. He was in the hospital wing. He made a move to try to get out of bed as he looked around for Hermione. He fell back again at the intense pain and nausea spreading from his middle. Madam Pomfrey bustled over to him. "Mr. Malfoy? Are you finally awake?" she asked as she reached his bed.

Draco looked down at his hands. They were smooth, scratch-free. There was no blood from his climb out of the pile of plaster and wire.

"Here, drink this quickly," she anxiously held a cup toward him.

Draco ignored the cup. "How long have I been asleep?"

"About a week," she said briskly. "Now drink this or you'll-"

"A week!" Draco asked, amazed. He still felt as exhausted as he had when he'd been with Hermione under that tree. "How can that be?" he demanded.

"Well, we're trying to find that out, aren't we? But in the meantime," she tried to reach the cup to his lips. "You need to be awake when you drink this."

"Why?"

"Because!" she shouted, "if you don't you'll just- oh my." Draco's eyes had slipped shut again. He was losing more and more time to dreamless sleep.

---

Draco opened his eyes to see Hermione's face above him. He smiled, and she looked rather disarmed, but when he opened his mouth to talk, she thrust a cup to his mouth. "Drink this now," she said almost dangerously.

Draco obediently gulped down what felt like liquid ice. All his nerves tingled to life. "Woah." He felt refreshed, like he'd woken up after weeks of fitful rest.

"Why didn't you drink it last week, when Madam Pomfrey told you to?" Hermione exasperated.

"Wait a minute!" Draco shot up to a sitting position. "What are you on about, last week?"

"Well that's how long it's been, hasn't it?" Hermione crossed her arms and stood back.

"What do you mean?" Draco floundered.

"Well, Voldemort's been dead for more than two weeks, hasn't he?" Hermione glared at him as though he were a slightly stupid three-year-old.

"Hermione, just stop being like this," Draco gestured emphatically "and fill me in."

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, as if she was being extremely indulgent, "fine. Remember when you woke up the first time and I was standing above you with my wand in hand? Well, I hadn't revived you. It was strange. You just woke up a second after being hexed. You'd been cursed with some really odd spell. Either that or the Death Eater's wand malfunctioned. Anyway, you're fine now. That draught should've done the trick, but you could have been awake for the past week if you'd just taken it at once. As it is, you've missed loads of valuable study time. Do you realize we only have three weeks left until the N.E.W.T.s?" Hermione babbled distractedly.

"Oh shit," Draco moaned. He reached out and yanked Hermione toward him. "Tell me they postponed the Quidditch match," he said desperately.

"Honestly Draco," Hermione scolded, "we have exams in three weeks and all you care about is some stupid match." Draco kept staring demandingly at her. "No. They didn't postpone the match. Sorry, but Slytherin didn't play at its best either," she said, trying to get the worst over quickly. "As it is, Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cap. Ginny's really pleased," Hermione said brightly, as if this would lessen the blow.

Draco groaned and flopped back on his bed.

She glared at him for a moment. "Good," she said edgily. "It's nice to see where your priorities lie." She stalked off looking completely frustrated.

"Hermione," Draco called, but she kept walking out of the door. He felt guilt sink down deeper than regret for the lost Quidditch Cup. "Where in the hell are my clothes," he muttered, as he was only wearing a set of light pajamas.

In the end, he had to wrangle his old ton, blood-encrusted clothes from Madam Pomfrey, and cleaned them up with a few spells. He went up the Head dorms to find Hermione on the suddenly scarlet sofa. Before he had a chance to ask what had happened to the darker decorations, before he had a chance to open his mouth, Hermione said, "The Headmaster wants to see you."

"Why, d'you think?" Draco asked, feeling slightly nervous.

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione said irritably. "Maybe it's your being a Death Eater, or your sneaking out of school, or your TAKING ME TO VOLDEMORT WHILE I WAS UNCONSCIOUS." Her face was red with fury and indignation.

"Hermione, wait a second, I didn't mean to-"

Draco went hurtling across the room. Hermione had grabbed up her wand, pointed it at Draco, and now he was inches in front of her face. "What do you mean 'wait a second?' Shouldn't you be apologizing?"

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry," Draco said quickly. He felt her wand release him and he sat down beside her. "Ok, listen Hermione. I didn't know Voldemort could read my mind without me even feeling it." Hermione's face softened a bit. "So I thought I was safe, I thought you were safe, but at that private meeting, he told me I had to take you. I went along with him, thinking I could stop it somehow. He said I'd have two weeks, so I sent a letter to Dumbledore, hoping he'd be back in time. But then that night, you know what happened," Draco trailed off feeling ashamed.

Hermione leaned forward and grabbed his hands. "No Draco, I don't. I woke up to Voldemort standing over me and you in the middle of the room, looking like a traitor."

"Oh," said Draco weakly. A wave of some burning hot emotion washed over him. "I see," he said quietly. He looked down at his hands, encased in hers and took a deep breath. "There was a message across your neck, from Voldemort. It started appearing when you were yelling at me. That's why you passed out. I touched it and it pulled me somehow, I don't know how. I just walked right out of the castle, carrying you with me. I tried to get you off of me, but it didn't work."

"But how can that be?" she asked. "I mean, I do believe you. Professor McGonagall told me about your screaming at the portraits, but how could he have cast that spell on me? He had never been near me."

Draco cringed under another wave of guilt. "Er... my father... I think he might have taken one of your hairs off my robes."

"Oh," said Hermione, "yes, I guess that's all he would need, isn't it? Ok, go on. How did Harry and Ron get there?"

Draco knew she must have already heard the story from her friends, but he assented. "Well, Voldemort put me under the Imperius curse the moment the other spell lifted, and I had to come back and get Harry. The first time I broke the curse was with Ron. I started to suggest his staying back and talking to McGonagall, but he wouldn't listen," Draco sneered in disgust.

"Yes, well it's not as if you've been very trustworthy," Hermione said coldly. She tried to take her hands away from his, but he grabbed them suddenly.

"Hermione, I've been lying to you, alright? Not just about that last meeting, but about all of them all along. I know where Hagrid went. He went to check up on a phony note from the giants, and was captured by Death Eaters. I guessed that when Dumbledore had left, he had gone to help Hagrid. There were," he let out a sigh, "lots of things I didn't tell you." Hermione was touched despite herself. In all the time she'd known him, she'd almost never heard his voice so serious and free of a lazy, affected drawl.

"Yes, and..." she prompted gently.

He looked at her questioningly for a second. "I um... I well, put the Imperius curse on you in your sleep? How did you know about that?" he asked incredulously.

"Draco," she said softly, leaning forward. "I hope this teaches you a lesson," her voice grew hard. "Don't ever think you can get away with tricking me."

Draco laughed. "Alright, I think I've learned that."

"Don't laugh," she ordered. "I'm serious, and you're not out of the doghouse yet."

"Alright, what can I do to get you to forgive me?" he asked penitently.

Hermione looked completely prepared for this offer, and spoke without hesitation. "Join S.P.E.W."

"What?" Draco barked. "Come on," he said suggestively, moving his leg against hers. "I thought you'd come up with something more imaginative."

"You know," said Hermione, jumping up. "You don't have time right now to try and seduce me."

"Oh, the Headmaster," Draco said, disappointed.

"Yes, the Headmaster."

So Draco got up and left for the Headmaster's office. He knocked on the door, was admitted, and was asked to sit down.

Dumbledore sat across from Draco, behind the vast desk. He smiled at Draco and said "thank you for the note."

"Oh, that. Sure."

"You'll be happy to know that you did not distract me from anything important. Hagrid had the situation well in hand when I left him. He will be back shortly. I think I understand everything that's happened, but I do have two questions. Where is Ernie Macmillan?"

"I don't know," answered Draco.

"No matter. I'm sure he'll come out of hiding soon. The news of Voldemort's defeat is traveling quickly. Also, what do you think I should do about your punishment?" Dumbledore asked jovially.

"My punishment?" Draco blanched.

"You didn't think you'd get away with it, did you? You're a Death Eater, you swindled information out of Miss Granger, you've snuck out of school, and, well, do I need to add anything?"

"No. I'm sure that'll be enough," Draco said dejectedly.

"Yes, I think so too. Well, obviously, you won't be Head Boy any longer."

"What? Not Head Boy?" Draco ejaculated.

"No, of cou rse not."

"But who will take my place?" Draco was outraged.

"I suppose Ernie, now that he's back. Now, for the rest of your punishment-"

"More! So you think after I braved the Imperius curse and fought a bunch of Death Eaters, including my own father, I need more punishment?" Draco glared at the Headmaster furiously.

"I think that because you were a Death Eater, you need to set an example and demonstrate more respect for muggle-borns."

"What are you talking about," Draco drawled. "I thought you'd noticed, but I've got about as much respect for muggle-borns as any Death Eater can imagine."

"Which is why," Dumbledore continued, "I must ask you to spend one week with a Muggle family this summer. If you do not agree, I'll be forced to discipline you during school, in a much less pleasant and more public setting."

Draco stared at the Headmaster. "You're telling me I have to stay at Hermione's this summer?"

"You could always stay at the Dursleys'. Harry's family is quite friendly, but Harry might not be there this summer, and I know you wouldn't want to impose." Dumbledore turned to a pile of parchment on his desk.

"Right," Draco said lamely.

"Yes, that'll be all, thank you," said Dumbledore.

Draco left the Headmaster's office feeling wrong-footed. Dumbledore had a strange idea of punishment. Why hadn't he just come off it and said "congratulations. You have good taste in Gryffindors, and why don't you introduce yourself to her parents this summer?" Draco kept contemplating the possibilities of the summer until he reached the Head dorms and realized this wasn't really his territory any longer.

After tapping the suit of armor four times, he strode in, his foul temper radiant as he realized just why the Head common room had gone back to its original deep red coloring. Hermione, sitting primly on the couch, making Arithmancy notes, looked up to catch the deep scowl etched on his face. "What did he have to say?" she asked cautiously.

"Oh, you know. Whatever sagely speech he usually gives Potter whenever he risks his life to fight Voldemort," Draco started sarcastically. "Except he didn't say anything encouraging, didn't award my house fifty points, and he demoted me from the Head Boyship."

"Oh, I'm sorry Draco," she said soothingly. "But everyone knows you were a Death Eater. He had to punish you."

"Well why aren't they all worshipping me like they do Potter? The only reason they found out I was a Death Eater was because I betrayed Voldemort," he said bitterly.

"Even so," said Hermione, smiling at his self-righteousness, "you've been an insufferable git to most people for the past seven years. I think a lot of them made up their minds to hate you."

"Yes," Draco thudded down next to her. "It's so typical for nothing to work out for me. Of course, Potter, I'm sure, is basking in the praise of everyone at school."

"Well, Harry was very brave," Hermione reasoned with him. "We didn't know how he managed to do it, at first."

"Did he really hex Voldemort while he was under the Cruciatus curse?" Draco asked with a sneer that he hoped covered up the admiration in his voice.

"Yes. Did Dumbledore tell you about it?"

"No. I caught a glimpse of it just before I turned around to face my father. Harry was on the ground, obviously under the curse. Voldemort thought it was safe, took a look at how his Death Eaters were doing; I caught his eyes, then BAM. He looked like he was experiencing pain for the first time in his life," Draco said with relish. Hermione listened attentively. "Then, when I was facing a bunch of Death Eaters, I though I heard his screaming. I mean, it could have been anyone. The Cruciatus curse usually produces the same kind of noise, but it sounded higher and fresher than Harry's screams had been."

Hermione was grimly pleased. "I really wish I'd been awake to hear that scream," she said solemnly.

"You know, I really am sorry," Draco said, pulling her into his arms and leaning back against the couch.

Hermione felt him kiss the top of her head and she said "did you know Harry's legs were broken too? Voldemort was stupid enough to play with him before, before well," she broke off with a triumphant laugh. "Harry certainly did surprise him."

"Oh, well, of course Potter's legs were broken," Draco sneered. "He just had to milk it for all it's worth, didn't he?"

"Stop being daft," Hermione said. "You know it's amazing Harry has been able to repel all three of the Unforgivable curses. You're just jealous," she teased.

"Why would I be jealous of Scarhead?" Humor had replaced the undertone of his drawl, where malice had once been.

"That's right, you've got me, haven't you?" Hermione asked, finally dropping her quill and turning around so she was sort-of on top of him.

"Oh yes I do," he smirked, and tightened his arms.

Unfortunately, some time while Draco had been asleep, Ernie had returned, and so Draco and Hermione moved into her own room. But Draco didn't plan to let Ernie's arrival make any change in his schedule. He would still climb up to the Head dorms after lessons. If he wanted Ernie gone, a potent glare would do the trick. Draco knew his no longer being Head Boy wouldn't make a difference. He would spend just as much time with Hermione as he had before Voldemort's death.

Within two hours out of getting back from Dumbledore's office, he even got her to abolish her no-sex-during-the-week role by claiming the Slytherins would pick on him for going soft and bestowing some well-placed kisses along her neck. Hermione knew he was lying. No Slytherin would dare pick on Draco. But with N.E.W.T.s coming up, Hermione rationalized that having Draco around every night would not only give her a study partner. It would relieve stress.

The next day, a Monday, during lessons, Draco noticed a change in almost every student. Rather than cower away from him, afraid he might make fun of them, many students stared at him questioningly. The students in his own house, however, avoided him. They thought he'd gone soft, and although they had all denounced the Dark Lord the moment they heard of his death, they looked at Draco as if he were a traitor.

During lunch, Draco sat down in his usual spot, between Crabbe and Goyle. They were busy eating, but several other Slytherins, Pansy Parkinson included, glared at Draco mutinously. "What's the matter with all of you," Draco drawled. Pansy looked taken aback, as if she'd expected him to start sprouting sonnets or proclaiming his love for Gryffindors. When Draco didn't get an answer, he stood up, said "you lot are really boring," and left his House table.

Hermione watched, with something less than surprise, as Draco sat down next to her. Harry and Ron, who sat across from her, could not have been more surprised.

"Hi," Draco said to Harry and Ron shortly, gauging their response. Hermione hid her mouth behind her hands, trying to stifle a giggle. Ron's mouth was opening and closing slowly, like a fish, while he tried to think of what to say. Harry's eyebrows had shot up near his hairline, and he kept glancing at Ron, wondering how they should be reacting.

"Well... hello," Harry finally said in an unsteady voice.

"Ya... hi," Ron seemed to agree that this was a good response.

"Well, yes," Draco sneered. "You wouldn't want to be too friendly after I saved your lives."

Hermione groaned.

"Excuse me," snapped Ron, "but you were the reason our lives were in danger in the first place. You just threw Harry in there with Voldemort, didn't you?"

"Well," Draco retorted loudly, "he was bound to kill him sometime, wasn't he? I just sped things along."

"Oh, honestly," started Hermione before Ron could argue back. "Ron, you know Voldemort was the one who tried to kill Harry, not Draco. And I know he's not acting like it now, but he really is sorry."

"I can speak for myself, thanks," Draco muttered.

"But you are," she said, turning to him. "Come on, I know you don't like it, but please Draco, tell them."

Draco gathered himself up. He squared his shoulders, looked first at Ron, then at Harry and said "sorry."

Although Hermione had told them they would get an apology from Draco, Harry and Ron looked almost more surprised than when he'd come over to have lunch with Hermione. "Well," Harry said slowly, "that's all right."

"Ya, just don't do it again," Ron finished.

Draco seemed to think the conversation was finished, because he turned to Hermione and said "please tell me you took notes in Binns' class this morning. I swear I tried, but I couldn't keep my eyes open."

Harry looked at Hermione pleadingly as well, but Ron kept staring at Draco. "What do you mean you couldn't keep your eyes open? You've been asleep for two weeks."