A/N: Er…hi. I feel really bad about this, and I apologize, but you know that really long wait between the last update and this one? Yeah, I don't think it's going to get shorter any time soon. When I began this story, I overestimated the time I'd have for writing, and some things have come up in my life recently that have severely limited my free time. Added to that, I made some major changes to my outline a while back and I'm still trying to make everything work, plot-wise. I've learned my lesson from this story: I'm never again going to start posting while I'm still writing! But I'm not going on hiatus - I'm still going to keep writing and posting when I can. I promise that I will not abandon "Prisoners and Captives." It's just going to take me a little longer to finish than I anticipated.

Again, I'm really sorry about all this, and I want to thank everybody who's been reading and reviewing. I've been thrilled with the response to this story and I'm really disappointed in myself that I haven't been quicker with updates. If you want to rant at me or anything, feel free to send me a PM.

And now, on to Chapter Fifteen.

Draco handed her the wand. "I'm going to get you out of here," he said.

Prisoners and Captives

Part One: Malfoy Manor

Chapter Fifteen: The Other Hermione

"What?" Hermione said. She couldn't have heard him right, she couldn't have.

"I'm going to get you out of here," Draco repeated.

Hermione ran her fingers up and down her wand. She had thought she'd never see it again. "How?" she asked.

Draco hesitated. "You've promised to Obliviate me after," he said.

"Yes," Hermione said impatiently. "Now how am I going to escape?"

Draco reached back into his robes and drew out a phial of a familiar thick brown liquid.

"Polyjuice Potion," they said together.

"Where did you - " Hermione started to ask, but Draco interrupted her.

"Snape's laboratory. He had a cauldron simmering, it looked like it'd just been finished."

"So," Hermione said slowly. "I'm going to be you, to get through the gate."

"Yes," Draco said. "You'll take it here, Disillusion yourself, unlock the door, and get out through a window on the first floor – the door's charmed to ring whenever someone leaves. You'll walk through the gate – just hold your arm up – and then Disapparate when you're out. Go to Hogwarts, there's Order members there and they'll know where to hide you. Don't Apparate into Hogsmeade, though, there's a Caterwauling Charm."

Hermione considered. The plan seemed likely to work – more likely than any of her other escape attempts, at least, and at this point she had nothing to lose – but something was bothering her.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I'll take Polyjuice to turn into you," Draco said, "and then you'll Obliviate and Stun me. That way it'll be at least an hour before anyone realizes you're gone."

"But what will they do when they do realize?" Hermione asked, horrified.

Draco glanced at the floor, then back at her. His mouth was set in determination. "He won't kill me," he said. "At least for a while – he's looking for something now, he's to hold a full Death Eater meeting. If he's going to kill me, he's going to make an example. Besides, Snape will step in for me if it comes to that. He would have at the meeting if my father hadn't first."

"But even if he doesn't kill you, he'll torture you," Hermione said.

"He's going to torture me anyway!" Draco exploded. "Haven't you – you've seen what it's like! I'm going to get tortured either way, and at least this way maybe – maybe Potter will kill him and it will stop!"

"Is that why you're doing this?" Hermione asked quickly. "Because you want us to win?"

"Yes – no – I don't know!" Draco said, smoothing his hair distractedly. He paused. "Think of it as insurance," he said, calmer. "Whichever side wins, I'm on that side."

"No," Hermione said. "Whichever side wins, you're on the other side."

Draco flushed and looked away. So he knew what he was doing.

"Why are you really doing this?" Hermione said.

"Why does it matter?" Draco almost shouted. "Don't you want to get out of here?"

"Of course I do!" Hermione said. "But I need to know that I can trust you. Why are you really doing this?"

"Because – because I don't want to see you die!" Draco said. His face was very pink.

"Why?" Hermione challenged.

"Because I know you," Draco said. "I don't like you, Granger – Merlin knows! – but I know you. I've known you since you were a bossy little first-year with giant teeth and frizzy hair. I don't want to see you die. Especially not this way."

"What do you mean?"

"He's going to torture you until your memory breaks before he kills you," Draco said bluntly. He brandished the Polyjuice Potion. "Now are you going to take it or not?"

And without thinking about it, without realizing she was doing it, Hermione burst into tears and launched herself into Draco's arms. He patted her back awkwardly as she sobbed. "Thank - you – thank - you," Hermione gasped.

"Hermione," Draco said, and surprised that he'd used her first name, Hermione stopped crying abruptly and looked up. Draco had the strangest expression on his face. His arms tightened around her.

And then he kissed her.

Hermione almost pulled away in surprise, and though a part of her knew that she should break the kiss, a bigger part was overcome by the surprise and the strangeness and the urgency of the situation, of the kiss, and she was kissing Draco back more fiercely than she'd ever kissed anyone before, it was like how she and Viktor had kissed after the Second Task but more, and for an instant – longer than an instant - she forgot all about Ron and Harry and dying and she, Hermione Granger, kissed Draco Malfoy back.

Eventually they had to break apart, and when they did everything came rushing back. A thousand thoughts seemed to hit Hermione instantaneously: What was she doing wasting time like this? What was she doing kissing DRACO MALFOY? What was Ron going to do when he heard about this? What on earth had just happened? And oh – she was going to Obliviate him – he was going to forget it – she would be the only one who had this memory! Had he known that when he kissed her, had he planned it? She almost hated him for doing this to her.

"We'd better take the Polyjuice now," Draco said. He was pink-faced but looked her in the eyes, not at the ground.

"Yeah," Hermione said shakily. "We should switch clothes. I'll go in the bathroom, we'll pass them through the door."

"I'm not going to wear a dress!" Draco said indignantly. "You can change – I'll wait until after I've taken it."

"You're not looking at me naked!" Hermione said.

Draco laughed humorlessly. "Granger - " he started, but stopped. "I'll keep a shirt on, then," he amended.

Hermione nodded. "Okay. Let's do it."

Behind the bathroom door, Hermione took off her chemise and let it fall to the floor. She had never been more aware of her own body. Draco was going to see this, was going to be wearing it – her short legs, the birthmark on her hip, the scar on her torso from Dolohov's curse. It was strange, she thought, almost laughing, that the first time a boy would see her nearly naked would be because he had Polyjuiced himself into her body.

A hand appeared through the crack in the door, holding a pile of black clothes. Hermione took the bundle and began pulling on Draco's clothes: the trousers, the collared shirt, the long black robes, the socks, the dragonhide boots. She glanced in the mirror. The clothes were much too big; Draco's sleeves obscured her hands and his pants pooled on the floor.

"Ready?" Draco asked through the door.

"Ready," Hermione said, her voice steady. She opened the door, bringing her discarded clothes with her.

Draco stood there, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers and a thin white T-shirt. Hermione did her best to look at his face, but she couldn't help the blush that appeared in her cheeks. Draco went pink too, but he handed her a tumbler full of Polyjuice Potion as if they were both dressed in their school robes.

"I conjured them while you were changing," Draco said in response to Hermione's raised eyebrows as she took the tumbler and handed Draco her bundle of clothes. He set them on the edge of the bed.

"All right," Hermione said in a voice full of false confidence. "Let's get to it, then." She reached up and plucked a hair from her head. Draco did the same as she dropped her hair into his glass, instantly turning it into a rich brown.

Draco dropped his hair into her tumbler. The potion frothed and turned a pale green.

They looked at each other, their faces no longer pink but pale with anxiety.

"Well," Hermione said.

"Well," said Draco. "Cheers." He lifted his glass and drank.

Hermione drank too. Her eyes streamed at the taste – it wasn't bad, exactly, but very strong, like the extra-strength mouthwash her parents had insisted she use for as long as she could remember.

There was the somehow familiar - but how could it be familiar when she'd never done it before, when the Polyjuice she'd taken second year hadn't molded her into somebody new, just made her grow fur and a tail and cat ears? – painful stretching as her legs shot up, her shoulders expanded, her hair grew into her head, her chin reshaped itself. When it was finished, she straightened and saw herself standing there in black boxers and a white T-shirt, staring back at her.

"This is really strange," the other Hermione said. Was her voice really that high?

"You'd better get dressed," Hermione said in a voice that was not her own. It was surprisingly calm, though, despite her (Draco's?) elevated heart rate and sweaty palms.

The other Hermione pulled on the chemise. "Pull your hair out of the collar," Hermione said, and the other Hermione obeyed.

They stared at each other. This was, without a doubt, the strangest thing she had ever done.

"Do it," said the other Hermione, in a tone she recognized – false bravery. "Do it now."

Hermione raised her wand, pointed it between the other Hermione's eyes, and said, "Obliviate."

As the other Hermione's eyes went vacant, Hermione knew, she somehow knew – it went beyond déjà vu, it went beyond instinct, she had never been surer of anything in her life – that she was the one who had modified her memory.