A/N: I just want to take a moment and really show my gratitude for all the love and support y'all give me and this story. It is actually quite embarrassing how excited I get when I log in and see that a new comment has been written. I sort of curl up into a ball, but while in a seated position? Just trust me, it is weird but completely born out of the absolute love that I have for all of you wonderful people. While I was writing this chapter I just kept thinking, "Wow, I can't believe we are already HERE and only have a bit more to go. The fact that some people have followed me since the early days of Daylight and stuck around through TWO wips with me, and that others have tortured themselves binging through it all and racing to catch up just completely stunsss me. You are all amazing, and we wouldn't be here if y'all hadn't been so wonderful to me and TBE. So thank you, from the bottom of my black little heart, thaaaaaaank youuuuuuu.
Beta'd by the one and only Bree who suffers so much having to deal with me and TBE and does it with minimal threats to my life. Thank you, my darling.
Soundtrack- "Kill Me (acoustic)" by Landon Tewers and "Half Alive" by Amber Run
TWENTY ONE
.
Hermione said goodnight to Harry and handed him back her beaded bag. Everything they had was packed up and ready for tomorrow so she had taken it into the bathroom with her when she showered and changed for the night. Hermione took her time, not knowing when she would get another hot shower. It was scary, thinking about going on the run again, but this time they were somewhat prepared.
And Draco was with her.
It wouldn't be as bad as last autumn. At least, that's what she told herself.
Hermione felt the heavy, silent tension at her back when she didn't turn around and tell Ron goodnight too. She wondered if he even cared. Or if he was relieved by her not talking to him. He was the one who didn't want to be friends anymore, the one who wanted to stop trying. It hurt, but she'd survived worse. Ron hadn't broken her heart, just bruised it a little.
Hermione pulled her robe tight around herself as she opened the door to her and Draco's bedroom. He was standing by the window, rubbing two fingers over Calix's head and whispering something in a low voice. Somehow, she felt like she was intruding and waited until he lifted his arm and the owl soared out through the window to go in any further.
She couldn't help but notice there was a letter tied to the owl's leg. Who was Draco writing to this late? Who did Draco even still... talk to?
Before setting Bellatrix's wand down next to Draco's in his holster, she locked the door and sealed the room with a silencing charm.
Draco sighed and ran his hand over his face. He scratched at the barely there stubble on his chin and Hermione watched his face fall back into stony stoicism.
"How-how are you?" Hermione cringed at her question. What was she doing?! Why was she nervous about this?
Draco glanced at her and the corner of his mouth twitched. "Me? Oh I'm fine. Except the Dark Lord has taken over my home, my mother is lost on some island no one can find, and I'm probably going to die tomorrow and be turned into an undead puppet to serve the man who killed my father for all eternity because he's apparently deathless, as you've all just told me today."
Hermione blinked. "Inferi are only enchanted while the wizard who made them is alive?"
"Fuck, I don't really know how it works." Draco threw his hands up. "There wasn't a q&a portion during my Death Eater initiation."
"Right," Hermione said quickly. "Of course there wasn't."
She looked down at the floor, hoping the heat in her face wasn't too apparent and pulled the neck of her robe closed with her fist so she would have something to do with her hands.
But she couldn't stop her mind from spinning and her feet from taking a very small step forward. "What was it like? When you took your..." She nodded her head at his arm.
Draco was quiet for a moment. "Mine wasn't anything special. Normally we all gather and you swear your undying loyalty and pledge your life to his cause. You know, normal cult shit."
Hermione couldn't tell if he was being serious or making a joke.
"I had mine in the back of Borgin and Burkes." He rolled his eyes. "Just my family was there. My uncle Rodolphus kept sneezing because of the dust and knocked over some weird vase thing that was full of spider eggs. I watched all those baby spiders crawling across the floor while the Dark Lord told me how I was given the coveted task of killing Dumbledore."
"Oh." It was all Hermione could think to say.
Draco stuck his hands in his pockets. "After I made sure I got so drunk they couldn't take me out for what Bellatrix considered a celebration. I didn't want to..." He trailed off and ended his story with a shrug. "Doesn't matter."
But it did. It mattered to her.
Hermione took another step closer. "I saw you that day," she admitted. "We followed you. Harry thought that... that's what had happened, but I didn't believe him."
"You followed me?"
Hermione nodded. "You probably don't remember, but we ran into each other, at Madame Malkin's earlier that day."
"Of course I remember." Draco's voice was... well not soft, but... deep. Hermione looked up into his storm grey eyes, they were closer now. He had moved forward too. "You had your hair up and I remember thinking it would be so easy to grab it and pull you back towards me when you turned to leave."
"Oh," Hermione repeated, feeling her face warm again.
Draco blew out a sharp breath. "I thought I hated you so much." He shook his head, as if he didn't understand.
"You... didn't hate me?"
"Let's just say what I thought I felt for you doubled after you let me fuck you. Then doubled again the next time." Draco was standing in front of her now and Hermione had to tilt her head back to look up at him. "It went on and on, until..."
She could barely breathe, but found enough air to ask, "Until what?"
"Until what I felt wasn't hate at all." He smiled wryly at her. "You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me, Hermione Granger." She held her breath as adrenaline pumped into her blood making her nervous for what he was about to say, but desperate to hear it. "I fucking love it."
Bubbles rose up in her the same time heat sunk down, pooling somewhere deep inside her as the bubbles pressed around her racing heart.
"And I wouldn't trade away a single second of it. Not for anything or anyone. Not even to get this mark off my skin."
She looked down as Draco pulled up his sleeve, bearing the skull and snake branded onto him.
"He might have gotten my soul, but trust me," Draco smirked and blew out a low breath. Hermione felt a cool wave of mint brush over her heated face. "That was the shittiest part of me."
He reached his hand out, letting his fingers trail over the tie of her robe.
"Dont," Hermione whispered and Draco's fingers curled back into a fist. A fist, he slowly lowered to his side.
Draco looked away from her. "Right. I suppose I deserve that."
He glanced up at her, but his eyes caught on the spot where she had healed the bruise on her cheek. "It's probably all shit," he said softly, "to be honest with you."
"I meant, don't say things like that about yourself," Hermione clarified. "Draco you make mistakes. You make a lot of mistakes." She forced herself to hold his gaze. "But... I was wrong yesterday when I said you didn't try. You do. You have. All this time you've been trying. You've never stopped." Her heart was racing and she wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe because Draco hadn't looked away or even blinked in the last minute, he just stared at her, like a snake charmed by a flute.
"I don't stop." He looked up at the ceiling and Hermione watched his throat bob. "Even when I should, is that what you're saying?"
"You stopped last night."
Draco looked back down, but not at her and Hermione summoned her strength, urging herself to go on because... because she needed to say this.
And Draco needed to hear it.
"You told me that you needed me to tell you if it got too much and... I did. And you stopped. Draco, that's how this works. I... trusted you to do that and that's what you did."
Their relationship wasn't perfect. It wasn't even close to perfect, but it was theirs. She had given him so many chances in the past and each time, Draco had taken them. When he could have easily just walked away, when he could have left her, Draco always came back.
And she didn't want to leave him. A life without Draco would be a life half lived.
No one, no one, had ever made her feel like he did. There wasn't a person on earth that had hurt her half as much as Draco had, but at the same time, there wasn't anyone who made near as happy. Who made her feel more like herself. Only him. Only ever him.
Being with Draco was hard, but it was supposed to be. Love didn't come easy, it had to be fought for, bled for.
Begged for.
And Draco, Godric knew, had done all of that. And he had never, ever, stopped.
If Draco could fight for them, she wasn't going to give up either.
It just wasn't in her nature.
"That's not all I did," Draco said solemnly and dropped his head. "I fucked up. I always do."
After all the talk about horcruxes and hunting them today on top of dealing with Ron, Draco, and Harry's personalities, all pushing and shoving against each other, Hermione was sick of moody men. She had spent her whole day dealing with them and she was tired of it. So tired of making everyone else feel good when she deserved to too.
"We're going back into the war tomorrow. That's what we're doing," she said, voice firm. "And I don't want to spend the rest of tonight pulling you out of a moping mood."
Draco blinked, obviously taken aback by her change in demeanor.
Hermione pushed on. "I want..." She took a deep breath, plucked up her courage, and pulled her robe from her body, letting it fall to the floor. "I want to forget."
Draco's eyes were scouring over her body, just barely covered by the thin, lace dress she had dug back out of her beaded bag tonight. It was as if his brain stalled at the sight of her, but after a few moments it kicked back into gear and those hazy eyes jumped up to hers.
His brow furrowed. "Forget?"
Hermione stepped forward, towards Draco and the bed behind him. "I want to forget about everything." She placed her hands on his chest, shivering as the cool night air penetrated the sheer fabric. "Everything but you and me."
Draco's eyes darkened and she watched as he tried to keep himself under control. "You don't have to do this. Not if you don't want to."
Hermione stopped in front of him, blinking her eyes as wide as they would go. "Do you need me to beg?"
"Fuck, Sweetheart..." Draco sank onto the bed behind him. "Don't tease me."
Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling and pulled out the empty vial of the contraceptive potion she had been brewing alongside the polyjuice from in between her breasts.
"I'm not teasing you. In fact... I took this so you could..." She felt herself blush again and placed it on the table beside the bed, just to have something to do that wasn't looking into the molten silver eyes of the man before her.
"So I could what?" he breathed, barely whispering yet somehow his voice was still raw.
"So you wouldn't have to stop tonight," Hermione said in a small voice. "At all."
She had only long enough to watch his pupils expand, leaving his eyes as twin rings of silver before his hands landed on her waist, pulling her onto the bed and on top of him.
.
Draco's mouth collided with Granger's, his hands running over every inch of her he could get to. Hips, hair, tits, ass, pulling her further onto his lap and pushing that fucking little lace dress up around her waist.
Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
She felt so goddamn good.
He grabbed the back of her thighs, lifting her higher onto his lap and Granger's hands latched onto him, holding on. Her skin was warm and soft and Draco let his fingers wrap around to the inside of her thigh, to the bruised mark he had left there and pressed his fingers in.
Granger gasped. Her hands trembled on his shoulders.
Draco stopped. He pulled back and looked up at her. "We don't have to. If you're still..." He loosened his grip on her. "This isn't our last night together, Sweetheart. I'll make fucking sure of that."
They'd have at least one more, before his three days were up and... maybe more. Potter might indeed be the Chosen One, but he was still just a man. And men died all the time in wars. And if Potter died, Draco would have Granger in his arms, hauling her away, before the body even hit the ground.
Granger smiled just a little. "I know. And I told you I want to."
He leaned back against the wall, putting a few inches of distance between them. Because he needed it. Granger in that dress was distracting, to say the least, and he needed to think clearly.
He couldn't let anything cloud his judgment. Not again. Not tonight.
"We can go slow," Draco offered, sliding his hands back, resting them on her ribs.
Granger took a shaky breath and nodded.
"Kiss me."
Granger leaned down and pressed her lips against his. Slowly, Draco moved his to kiss her back, holding her in place, preserving the few inches between their chests as only their lips moved. He felt Granger's mouth open and tentatively dipped his tongue in, pressing it against hers, giving it a little flick before retreating back again.
He felt her soften in his hands.
"What do you want, pet?" Draco breathed out, barely pulling away to speak. "What would make you feel good?"
Granger shifted on top of him, moving herself to sit right against his dick.
His cock throbbed against the warmth of her and Draco grunted, fighting the urge to grind it against her.
She surprised him by doing it herself. Granger leaned down and kissed him again. "I want to feel you inside of me. All of you," she whispered the last words and Draco's cock jumped in his trousers at the sound of it.
"Fuck, kitten. If you keep talking like that you'll make me come before I even get to fuck you."
Granger's hands dropped to his trousers and she pulled them open. "We can't have that."
He groaned as she pulled him out. "You can have anything you want."
He lifted her up only long enough for Granger to push his trousers over his hips and Draco kicked them off his legs, positioning her carefully on top of him again.
"You. I want you," Granger breathed out against his mouth while sliding her hands under his shirt. He watched as she pushed her hands up, running them over his scars as she lifted it.
His hair ruffled as the white shirt slipped over it and Granger leaned down, kissing his chest and... his scars.
"Oh God, Granger..."
Draco's head fell back. Her soft warm lips pressed tenderly into the dented skin where he had been cut open.
He damn near felt ready to come apart again.
Granger straightened up, reaching down between them to grip him.
"Easy, pet," Draco said in a rough, breathless voice as she slid his cock between her folds. Fuck, she was already dripping for him and he'd barely touched her yet.
"It's okay, Draco, I'm okay," she whispered and he felt the tight resistance of her entrance against his head.
Draco's fingers dug into her hips. "You're perfect," he mumbled against her lips. "But I need it slow too, Sweetheart. Or I'm going to come the second I'm inside you."
She licked her lips, letting a little moan slip out.
"You like that?" he rasped.
Granger's big doe eyes were locked right onto his. Draco stopped breathing.
"I love it." And she sank herself onto his cock.
Draco hissed, every muscle in his body contracting as she slowly pushed herself down another inch, almost making it halfway.
He spread one hand out over her back, steadying her and helping her balance while the other wrapped around the side of her neck, fingers diving into her thick curls and pulling her mouth back onto his.
He focused on kissing her because he couldn't think about what else was happening without losing control. She was soft and warm and her lips sucked and pulled at him. Granger moaned again when he snaked his tongue in her mouth.
"Fuck," Draco whispered weakly as she tightened around him.
"Is something wrong?" Granger stilled, thank fuck, and looked down at where the skirt of the dress pooled in his lap. "Am I doing it wrong?"
He had to stop from laughing. "No, Sweetheart," Draco pushed her hair back over her shoulders, playing with the thin straps holding the dress on her body. "You're... doing too good."
She smiled at that, bright and wide, and Draco's cock twitched inside her.
She made a small humming noise, pleased with herself. "I want more."
"Greedy girl," he chuckled, but it was cut short as she lowered herself farther onto his cock, slowly sinking inch by inch until he was fully inside of her. "Fuck yes, take it. Take it all."
Granger did as she was told and slowly started to rock herself back and forth. He moved with her, their bodies in tandem, and only when Granger's breathing started to quicken and she squeezed his legs with her thighs did he move his hands up from her hips, giving her free reign to move as she pleased.
The material of the dress was silky soft and barely there, hazily obscuring her body from him.
His fingers were light and shaking as he slipped the straps from her shoulders, letting them fall onto her arms as she surged forward.
"Draco," Granger gasped out his name.
He was cupping the undersides of her tits, pushing them up and out of the lace.
"That's it, kitten," he gritted as she clenched around him. "Fuck yourself on my cock. Go ahead, I'm going to play with your pretty little tits and when I'm done, I'll rub that aching clit of yours until you're screaming my name."
"Oh God, Draco," Granger started moving a little faster, "Yes. Please, yes."
Draco rubbed his thumbs over the lace covering her nipples, teasing the pink peaks with gentle grazes that turned into soft circles until Granger was repeating the pattern he took around her nipples with her hips.
The muscles of his lower stomach tightened and his hips involuntarily jerked upwards. Granger threw her head back, toffee and caramel colored curls falling down her back. Draco drank in the sight of her, gauzy lace slipping down over creamy skin and tits moving with each roll of her hips, driving his throbbing, thick cock deeper and deeper into her tight little pussy.
He couldn't stand it. He needed more of her. Draco pulled the lace cups down over her tits, freeing them and made a low noise of need as they bounced in front of his face. Granger sucked in a breath, eyes flying open just as he wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her flush against his mouth, sucking one of her nipples into it and lavishing it with his tongue.
A high squeaking noise escaped her, and Draco waited until she pushed herself back onto him before switching to the other tit, and thrusting his hips up into hers.
"Yes, oh goodness, yes, Draco!"
He moaned against her skin, kissing, sucking and just barely latching his teeth around the pebbled bit of flesh in his mouth. Granger rode out his thrusts, alternating between meeting him and squeezing him as he pushed himself up into her, faster, quicker.
Her hands were in his hair, holding him to her as she tightened until the pressure was almost enough to make him burst.
"Touch me," Granger breathed into his ear. "I'm so close. Please, Draco... touch me and... talk to me. I want to feel every inch of you in me when I come."
Draco's balls tightened and he had to hold himself back from spilling into her warmth as she whispered probably the hottest thing he'd ever heard in her sexy little voice.
"How can I refuse?" he said, voice rough and raw. He wrapped one arm around her, lifting her just a little as the other moved in between her thighs, feeling the heat and moisture already waiting for him. "When my pretty little whore begs me so sweetly?"
Granger's shoulders caved forward, something between a moan and a gasp slipping out of her pink lips as Draco wound the same circles he had on her nipples over her clit, swollen with excitement.
"Is this what you wanted? My cock filling you up and me rubbing your slutty fucking clit?" He flicked his tongue against her nipple.
"Yes! God, Draco, yes I want it. I want this forever."
"I'd keep my cock in you for the rest of my life if I could," he grunted, pushing his cock into her so far that Granger raised off his lap a few inches. "I'd only ever take it out so I could lick your sweet pussy and make you come on my tongue like the dirty girl you are."
Granger was whining, face flushed and eyes as dark as melted chocolate. "Your dirty girl," she panted. "You're the only one that makes me feel like this. The only one who can touch me—oh GOD!"
Draco had started rubbing her clit faster, putting a heavy pressure right on it and feeling the reward of his actions as her cunt clamped down around his cock.
"That's right, Sweetheart," Draco growled. "Tell me this pussy is mine."
"It's yours," she whimpered.
"Tell me I can have it."
"You can have all of me," Granger looked half wild, the onset of her orgasm rising up in her and making her shake on top of him.
Draco gritted his teeth, swiped his thumb around her clit before returning to the soft nub and pushed himself fully into her, holding her down on him while she shook.
"Tell me you want me to fill it up. Tell me you want me to come in you."
Granger's head fell onto his shoulder, her curls slipping over his face and smothering him in the sweet scent of her. Her body was vibrating, legs squeezing his thighs and hands clawing into his skin as she gasped, mouth open and pressed into one of the scars on his chest as he fucked himself into her, making her orgasm last as long as he could.
"Draco..." she said weakly, when reason began to return to her.
He could feel a thin layer of cool sweat breaking out on his skin. She as so warm, so tight, so fucking...
He felt drunk off her. No, not drunk. Better than drunk, because firewhisky didn't burn half as hot as Granger. Hermione.
His girl, his only. His arms closed around her, holding her to his chest as he fucked himself up into her.
"Beg me for it, pet," Draco forced out, pressure building in his spine. "Let me hear you beg for my come like a good little slut."
Granger lips moved, kissing his scar again.
"Fuck, please." He wasn't going to last much longer, not this deep inside her. Not knowing what she was going to let him do to her. "Please, Hermione, beg me. Beg me. Beg me."
His thrusts were starting to become uneven, the measure of control he kept over himself slipping away.
Granger blinked her big eyes up at him. "Draco," she practically purred his goddamn name and Draco groaned at the sound of it. "Please come for me. I've waited so long to feel this, feel you, in me. I want it. I need it."
"Oh shit!" His muscles contracted.
"Come for me. Come in me," she whispered in his ear. "It's yours. Make it yours."
He couldn't even form words, all he could do was gasp and groan and hold her to him as he erupted inside her, sending out steady streams of thick, hot come into the tight, wet heat that surrounded him.
He felt her clench him again and Granger screamed out his name, her body responding to his by gracing him with another one of her beautiful orgasms to squeeze his cock while he gave everything he had to her.
His balls still hadn't loosened completely and a slow mixture of them were leaking out over them when Granger sat up to look at him. Her curls stuck to the side of her face, wet with sweat and her cheeks were flushed and warm. He took her face in his shaking hands, bringing it down to meet his lips again.
His body gave a few more convulsions as he kissed her, using his mouth to tell her everything he couldn't say. What he didn't know how to. Because how could what he felt ever be made into words?
Granger smiled down at him "I think... I think I left my body there for a moment."
Draco's thumbs grazing over either side of her beautiful face. "No, you were in there. I know, because I was in there with you." She laughed a little, soft and light. Draco grinned and pushed his hips up again. "Still am."
"Oh!" Granger yelped and grabbed onto him again, tightening around his slowly softening cock and making it pulse for her.
Draco would never get enough of this feeling. Of her.
He relaxed, leaning back against the cool wall and trailed his hands down her arms. "How do you feel?"
He had gotten faster and a bit rougher, towards the end, and wanted to make sure that it hadn't been too much for her. His cock and come were still buried in her and he was loath to let them out, but if she needed him to, he would.
Granger looked at him with her brown doe eyes. "I think this is the best I've ever felt."
.
They laid on the too small, lumpy bed, Granger comfortable and smiling sleepily in his arms and Draco... Draco had never felt like this. This happy, this... at peace. It almost didn't feel real, but everytime he thought he might have fallen asleep and dreamed this, Granger would let out a sated little sigh and snuggle closer to him, reminding him that she was here and his.
Clever little witch had brewed that potion in secret, not even giving him a hint that was what she was working on all that time locked up in Potter and Weasley's room. Well, that and the polyjuice she was going to take in the morning.
Daybreak would be here all too soon and tonight would be over, but still Draco didn't want to close his eyes. Because when he did fall asleep and dream, it wouldn't be this good. He would give anything to have this, forever.
And he was. Tomorrow he was going to wake up and... Salazar help him, he was going to fight alongside Ronald fucking Weasley. For her. It was all for fucking her.
And goddamn it, she was worth it.
Didn't mean he had to be happy about it, or had to be pleasant during it, just that he had to do it. And then tomorrow night, they would do this again.
It was almost enough to make him look forward to tomorrow. If he didn't have to watch her disappear with Potter in the morning. He still wasn't happy about that, but... he had to let her be her, right? That's what she wanted. What she needed.
Draco understood that.
More than she would ever know.
Or... maybe she would. She was brilliant after all, maybe... maybe she had known this whole time. Known what he needed because it was what she needed too.
"Draco?"
"Yes, kitten?"
She smiled a little. And so did he. He couldn't help it when she looked at him like that.
"I want to ask you something, but I don't want you to get upset."
"Pretty sure I can't be anything but satisfied right now," Draco said lazily.
"I mean it."
"I know you do."
She sat up a little, balancing on her arm. Draco watched the way the now loose gauzy material moved over her perfect little tits. Next time he wanted to come on them.
No, in her again.
But those tits...
Twice. It was the only solution. He'd have her make him come twice.
She could lick his balls in between rounds, soft tongue lapping at him while he got his strength back to fuck her into oblivion again.
Or maybe he'd eat her out and keep her coming until he was ready to fill her tight little cunt with everything he had.
"Are you listening to me?"
"Hmm? What?" Draco looked at Granger who was pouting, her bottom lip sticking out just a little farther than it should and he was tempted to reach out and grab it with his teeth.
"Do you promise not to get upset?"
Draco rolled his eyes. Then, catching hers, stopped and tucked her hair behind her ear, brushing the back of his fingers over the top of her shoulder.
"Why did you get drunk last night?"
He hadn't been expecting that...
"You were doing so well, you hadn't drank in weeks. Not since..." She blushed a little and he knew she was thinking of that night. He was too.
Until he thought of the previous night.
What he could remember of it, that is.
Draco shifted on the bed, trying to take some of the pressure off of his arm. His mark was bothering him again. The dull ache was back.
As if he could fucking forget what was waiting for him.
His arm was lying in between them, the dark mark stark on his pale skin.
"You know what happens to us, when we die." Draco's voice was hollow as he emptied his mind, blocking everything out with white marble walls. Granger nodded, her caramel curls falling back around her neck. "And... you know my father died."
"Oh Godric..." Granger's hand flew to her mouth. "No!"
He didn't look at her. Couldn't.
He was afraid that what he'd find in her sweet, innocent eyes would make those carefully constructed walls come tumbling down.
"I have..." Draco paused. "I have an issue with dead people. I don't like them. I don't like seeing the bodies, I don't like being near them, I don't..." His eyes clouded over. "Ghostie—Myrtle—was okay. She... Well, she creeped me the fuck out, but she talked like a person and acted like a person so it was easy to forget that she was... not... alive."
Granger laid still, watching him, listening to him.
"He was different. It was him, but... it wasn't. Then again, the person that came out of Azkaban was never the father I grew up with. But at least he... parts of him were still, still Lucius. This one was just... gone."
"He was there? At the Manor?"
Draco nodded, needing a moment more before speaking.
"Out on the grounds just... shambling around. I think he was trying to get to the horses and they just ran away from him. But he..." Draco's brows furrowed together. "He kept going. Kept after them. Dragging that fucking bum leg around with him. He didn't..." Draco's voice caught and his rain grey eyes finally met hers. "He didn't stop."
Granger's eyes were full of the horror he felt, filling with tears he refused to shed.
"Seeing him, like that, I..." Draco's words caught in his throat. "I couldn't kill him. I wasn't allowed. So I did the next best thing. I made him useless."
He could see the question brimming in her eyes. Curious girl, always needing to know more and Draco... Draco found that... he needed to... talk about it.
"Crucio doesn't work on them. They don't feel pain like we do. So, at least I know it didn't hurt him when I hit him with that curse, the one that did this to me," Draco looked down at his scarred chest and heard Granger gasp softly. "I did it enough that he couldn't... couldn't chase the horses anymore."
She was smart, she would know what he meant. What he did.
To his own fucking father.
Draco didn't rightly know how to feel. That was the man who had beat him, cracked his skull open. The man who had put Granger in chains and stood there while she was tortured.
But he was also the one who taught Draco how to fly. Who bought him his first broom. Who Draco had spent his whole life trying to emulate, until he saw the real man his father was last summer in the villa on the island.
Draco had taken the mark to save his father and a small part of him had enjoyed taking him apart.
It had been strange, to watch the marks he knew so well appear on someone else. Someone who looked so much like him.
He had never been able to see anything in Trelawney's crystal balls, but staring at his dead father's face as the curse cut into him again and again, Draco had glimpsed his own future.
And he had been happy when it fell and didn't get back up.
Granger's hand was soft and warm on his cheek as she held it, pulling it up to face her again.
"It's okay to mourn him. He was your father. You're allowed to feel however you feel."
Draco looked deep into her chocolate eyes and pushed the hair back over her shoulder. "Is that how am I supposed to feel? Sad that he's gone?"
Granger bit her lip and his eyes immediately went to it. "It's okay if you don't either," she said softly. "I don't want to speak ill of the dead, but..."
"He hurt you." Draco's voice dropped.
Granger brushed her finger tips over his brow. "He hurt you too."
At least his father had gotten his mother to safety; Lucius' love for Narcissa might have been his one redeeming quality. And... It was something Draco and his father had in common. Maybe he should have been trying to process what he felt about his father's death, but all Draco could think about was the girl, his girl, in his arms.
"I don't want you to go tomorrow."
Granger's lips parted in surprise, still swollen and bruised from his attention tonight. He watched as she pursed them back together. "I told you, I need to do this, I need to be able to still be me," she took a breath, "if we are going to work."
"I know," Draco murmured, looking down at the lacy dress she had slipped back into tonight. She had done that for him. He could... do this for her. "I won't stop you. I just wanted to make it clear that I don't like it."
She smiled softly at him.
"And if Potter lets anything happen to you—"
"Nothing is going to happen to me," Granger cut him off. "And you promised not to hurt Harry."
Draco wrapped his arm around her again, needing to feel her. "But Weasley's fair game, yeah?" He smirked.
Granger let out a small laugh. "Just because he and I aren't friends anymore doesn't mean I want him dead."
"Not friends?" Draco sniffed. "And is this, uh, one of those times where you'll be friends again in a week?"
Granger's small smile faded. "No. It's not."
Even though he liked hearing those words, Draco never enjoyed seeing her sad.
He leaned forward, kissing her and pulled her closer to him. "Well, poor boy has lost enough. Not having you? That's a fate worse than death."
He would know, after all.
Granger curled against him, tucking her face into his scarred chest. "You'll always have me."
"I know. And I'm never letting you go." Draco kissed the top of her head and finally allowed his eyes to shut.
.
Dawn curled into the dark corners of the room, lighting it with a rosy glow. It didn't seem right, that such an important day would start so softly. Hermione held onto Draco and a small part of her wished they could stay just like this. That they didn't have to leave the cozy isolation of their bed and wage war today. She glanced up at Draco's soft, sleeping face. What if today was the last time she saw him?
She wasn't sure when winning the war started to equate with being with Draco, but the sum of that equation came to this; if she didn't have Draco the war, her war, was not won.
So Hermione had work to do.
She untangled herself from Draco and quietly slipped out of the room, giving him one last look before heading down the hall. There wasn't much she had to prepare; she had spent the last two days packing and repacking her beaded bag, going over the plan with Harry and Griphook, and trying to think of anything she missed when mostly she missed... Draco.
She was glad they had last night, glad they had everything they did together. She wasn't sure she would be able to face today without having spent the night with Draco. She just hoped it wouldn't be their last.
Hermione spread a dollop of toothpaste over the bristles of her brush and started on the same cleaning routine she had her whole life. She counted the strokes, finding a sense of calm in the repetitive motion. She closed her eyes and tasted the sweet mint of the toothpaste on her tongue.
Someone turned the sink on beside her and Hermione jumped, eyes flaring, and almost choked when she saw Draco standing next to her. He smirked and... spread toothpaste over a brush she'd never seen before. It was... red.
Draco sniffed it cautiously, glanced at her, and then popped it in his mouth.
"Wat 're 'ou 'oing?" She'd forgotten to take the toothbrush out of her mouth before speaking. He looked at her with mock disdain and Hermione yanked the toothbrush from her mouth and wiped a bit of the white foam from her chin.
Draco had the good sense to remove his before trying to talk, and he even leaned down to spit into the sink. "I don't know, you love brushing your teeth so much, I thought..." He looked down at the red brush. "I don't know. I... I figured... why not?"
Hermione launched herself at him. Her brush fell clattering onto the counter and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down so she could lock her lips on his. The crisp taste of mint doubled and she pushed him back against the wall with enough force to make some of the glass jars on the shelves clink together.
"MMM!" Draco must have been stunned by her aggressive approach because his hands were still at his sides when she dove her fingers into his hair, then down to his face, pressing on his angled cheeks just enough to prompt his mouth to open.
She didn't care that they both had toothpaste running over their chins. She didn't care that when Draco reached around and grabbed her ass that he was still holding the red toothbrush. She didn't care that the door was open and anyone could clearly see them right now.
All she cared about kissing the man who wanted to try brushing his teeth the Muggle way because it was something she cared about. She wanted hope that they had a future after the war, and this right here proved it.
Draco didn't need to make some grand courageous gesture, she didn't want a hero.
She wanted him.
"Merlin fuck, Granger," Draco breathed heavily as Hermione retreated, lowering herself back onto her heels. "That's the way to wake a man up in the morning."
She glanced down and saw his black boxer briefs tight and tented. Hermione giggled, wiping the excess toothpaste off the side of Draco's mouth with her thumb. The touch of it made him smile. Straight, white teeth and as bright as snow.
Maybe they would have both toothbrushes and mouth cleaning potion in their home.
Their home. Wherever that would be. Whenever they got to go there. But they would, they'd get there.
Draco dipped his head and ran his tongue from the bottom of her chin, up under her nose, licking the toothpaste off her mouth.
Hermione laughed, hands clasped over his strong arms that wrapped around her middle.
A cough came from the hall and they both turned quickly to see Harry looking uncomfortably at the two of them.
"Are you done?" he asked, brows lifting above his rounded glasses.
"It's all yours, Potter," Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. He pulled his arms from around her, but took her hand, leading her out of the bathroom. "You can go admire your scar now."
Harry glared at Draco, but the smile he sported hadn't been completely wiped away by the interruption and Hermione watched as Harry's expression softened as he saw how happy she looked. He blinked slowly and gave Hermione a small nod as Draco pulled her past him.
Harry walked into the bathroom and Hermione heard an outraged gasp behind her. "Gross! There's toothpaste all over the floor!"
Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth, to stop her laughter. Draco squeezed her hand, grinned, and... laughed as he ducked inside their room, pulling her in quickly.
He was still laughing when his lips met hers again.
.
They had settled on portkeys. Hermione didn't have time to layer the enchantments so the portkey for the Muggleborns got them out of London and to an area where Order members would be stationed to help transport them somewhere safer, or arm them to fight. Their choice.
Draco had volunteered Calix to carry the letter to Remus, but Harry decided to go with a patronus instead. He claimed it was less likely to be intercepted.
"Fair enough. He's always flying off where he doesn't belong anyway," Draco muttered and Hermione watched the muscle in his jaw tighten. Still, it had warmed Hermione's heart that Draco had even offered.
"That's your owl?" Ron asked, stepping forward. "It looks familiar."
"Yeah, well, we were at school together for six years. I'm sure you've seen him before." Draco pulled Calix away from Ron, but Hermione felt Ron's eyes slide from the owl to her.
She used the excuse of lining up the portkeys in front of them in order to turn away from him.
The other portkeys were for her and Harry and for Draco and Ron. This way, after their mission they would all be together again. And hopefully Hermione and Harry would have destroyed the cup and maybe even figured out a way to keep the sword and they could go after whatever item of Ravenclaw's that had been used and then...
The snake.
And him.
Hermione suppressed a shudder. There was no point in getting worked up over that right now; they had miles to go before they got there.
But she knew they would. They had made it through so much already, and even with the odds stacked, and towering, against them, Draco was by her side. The impossible had already happened.
What was one measly Dark Lord compared to that.
Draco whispered something to Calix and watched him take to the sky. He had returned this morning and while she still didn't know who Draco had written to, she had glimpsed a green seal on the letter before Draco tossed it into the fire.
Draco's arm wrapped around her shoulders as they watched the owl soar down the beach, catch a gust of wind and bank towards the ocean.
"Are you ready, Sweetheart?"
She blinked against the bright sun and Draco moved to block the daylight from streaming into her eyes. At first his face was covered in shadow, then slowly her eyes began to adjust and the features of his face came into focus. Sharp angles, hard lines, and... smooth, pale skin, like polished stone.
Draco's lips twitched into something like a grin and Hermione realized she was staring at him, mouth partially open. She could taste the salty air on her tongue.
"You know, I kind of hate you in these clothes," Draco drawled and Hermione looked down at herself.
Before she left, Fleur had helped Hermione piece together something that looked like an outfit Bellatrix Lestrange might wear. They had spent the better part of an afternoon dieing garments black and stitching metal into the cuffs and collar.
"I'm going to peel them off of you, one by one tonight and then I am going to kiss every fucking inch of you." His lips were at her ear, breathing those words into her.
Hermione stood there, the only part of her still working was her heart which just so happened to be beating twice as hard as it should.
Draco smirked and placed a kiss on the side of her head.
"Hermione, come on," Harry instructed, waving her over to where he and Griphook were waiting.
She glanced back at Draco, standing next to Ron. He didn't say anything. No goodbyes. Because this wasn't a goodbye.
They would see each other again. They would.
She was still holding his hand. She hadn't even noticed taking it, but now... it felt impossible to let go.
Hermione glanced at Ron, silent and sullen. Was this... was this a good idea? Draco and Ron on their own?
"It's time."
She didn't want to let go. She didn't want to leave Draco. Wouldn't they be better off all together? They could break into Gringotts and while the Death Eaters were still trying to figure out what happened, they could hit the Ministry and get the Muggleborns out.
"Hermione." She turned. Harry and Griphook were waiting on her.
Draco squeezed her hand harder, like he didn't want to let go either.
Hermione spun back around.
"Draco, I—"
He pulled her against him, grabbing her face, her head, digging his fingers into her tied hair as he slammed his mouth down on hers. His lips pressed against hers with a barely controlled ferocity. It was harsh, rough, primal. Hermione clung onto his shoulders, clawing at them like she was trying to tear her away past his skin and into his heart.
He softly nipped at her lip, then in a split second, bit down hard on it, claiming it. The smallest, softest whimper escaped from her and was sucked into his mouth.
Draco pulled back, his chest heaving. He kept his hand buried in her hair for a moment longer and then pulled it back, tenderly grazing his fingertips over her cheek and jaw.
"Go, Granger," he ordered in that deep, commanding voice. His grey eyes stormed. "This is the only time I'll ever let you leave me. Go."
Hermione moved back one step. Another. The heel of her boots sank into the sand.
Harry held out his hand and Hermione, slowly, placed hers in it.
Her eyes never left Draco.
"I love you."
The last thing Hermione saw before the beach blurred into a whirlwind was the silver of his eyes, gleaming bright as Draco slipped behind his metal mask.
.
As soon as Draco's boots landed on the sidewalk, he let go of Weasley's arm. Side along apparition had never been his favorite way to travel, but it was the easiest way to make sure that he and Weasley ended up at the same place.
Draco didn't trust the ginger as far as he could spit, but he had agreed to let Weasley make the jump. Mostly because he hadn't wanted to spend the morning with Weasley arguing over it.
And they had arrived alright and with everything attached. Still, it felt like part of him had been left behind.
"When we get inside, let me do all the talking. If anyone asks you a question, just grunt in response." Draco let his voice drip with venom. "That shouldn't be too hard for you."
Weasley glared at him, his dull blue eyes the only part of his appearance that Granger hadn't charmed away. No one would recognize him unless they were looking closely and with Draco leading the way, precious few people would stop to speak to them.
He just hoped Umbridge was busy today.
"Get a move on, Malfoy. We need to be down there and causing a scene by the time Harry and Hermione reach the vault."
Draco didn't answer, just stepped out of the alleyway and onto the street. They arrived through the visitor's entrance and Draco did his best not to let any part of him touch Weasley as they crammed into the phone booth, but it was damn near impossible. As soon as the grate opened into the Ministry Draco shoved past him to step out first.
"Don't fucking push me," Weasley growled.
"I outrank you," Draco hissed, the sound echoing behind his mask. "Do you want to blow this whole operation before we even make it down there? Hmm? Didn't think so. Now walk three steps behind me."
He took off without checking to see if Weasley was following orders or not. He was a Malfoy and Malfoys didn't concern themselves with their inferiors.
His mask kept most people away and sent a few scurrying into offices or suddenly remembering they had forgotten something important in the opposite direction. As he walked, Draco's shoulders slid back and his spine straightened. He had forgotten how good it felt to wield this kind of power. This was the world he had born into, the world he was made for.
And it was the one that would never let him be with Granger the way he wanted to. He'd searched her family tree back as far as he could and couldn't find a single magical ancestor to try and link her to a name that could give her... some level of status.
Granger was as common as they came. By all rights, she shouldn't even have magic.
And yet somehow she did. Something or someone had put that spark into her and Granger, being the incredible woman that she was, had taken it and turned it into something brighter than the sun.
Draco had been given a golden, glittering world at birth, but all he wanted was Hermione. Last night hadn't been enough. He wanted more of her, all of her. His. Forever.
The sooner he got done here, the sooner he would have her again. And once he did, he'd never let go of her. Not again.
They stopped in front of the lifts. Weasley, the fucking dunce, came to stand beside him.
"I said—"
"I'm not one of your stupid lackeys. Don't get to tell me what to do, Malfoy," Weasley said through gritted teeth.
"Not much of a hero if you're not willing to put your pride above the people you're trying to save." Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Weasley grimace and when the doors to the lift opened, he let Draco walk in first.
Draco smirked behind his mask.
Once they were on their way down, he slipped it from his face and ran his fingers through his hair. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Draco was shoved into the side of the lift roughly. It shook and halted for a moment at the sudden movement. His hands were up and pushing back against Weasley before he even fully registered what was happening.
"Don't you ever—" Weasley shoved him harder against the wall and Draco snarled, grabbing onto Weasley's front and pushing him back. "Ever fucking tell me what to do again. I don't care if it brings You-Know-Who himself down on our heads, I'd rather fucking die than take orders from the likes of you."
"Get the fuck off me," Draco growled, reaching down for his wand.
Weasley shoved him hard one more time and then let him go. "Fucking Death Eater," he grumbled as he straightened out his clothes.
"Oh boo fucking hoo, Weaselbee," Draco snapped. "So I'm a Death Eater." He looked Weasley dead in the eyes, the part of him that was still him. "And I am glad of it. Who else would be able to get those people out?"
"You don't care about them! You only care about staying on Hermione's good side!"
Draco tilted his head. "Sucks when you're not, doesn't it, Weasley?"
"Whatever. She's not my problem anymore."
Something cold and corrosive worked itself through Draco's veins, spreading in him like a poison. "She was never yours."
"She was my best friend before you came along."
"Granger was done with you before she started with me," Draco growled.
"I wanted to stay friends, that's why I chose Lavender over her."
He reminded himself that Granger would be mad at him if he killed Weasley. He repeated it over and over in his head.
"Not surprised," Draco shrugged as if nothing in the world bothered him at this moment. "You always were a dumb fuck."
Weasley didn't say anything, he just watched the numbers grow as they neared the Department of Mysteries.
They would be there soon and Draco would have to fight at Weasley's side.
But they weren't there yet.
Draco brushed off his coat, tucked his mask inside, and sniffed loudly.
"By the way, Theo fucked your girlfriend."
Weasley's mouth hung open in shock.
"Brown used to come down to the dungeons sometimes. I never took a go, but Theo enjoyed her."
"Not Lavender. She wouldn't have—"
Draco lifted his brows lazily. "Had a tattoo of a flower on her ass. Liked it from behind. Sound familiar?"
Weasley had gone crimson. A vein standing out in the middle of his forehead, throbbing hard enough Draco thought it might burst.
"Crabbe too. I guess the bitch had a thing for the stupid ones."
The doors of the lift opened. They had arrived.
Draco turned to face Weasley one last time. "Try not to make dumb decisions while we're down here. I'm not blowing my cover to save your freckled ass."
.
Everything had gone to hell.
It happened even faster than Draco thought it would. They'd gotten down to the cells, the... cages and Draco noticed, not for the first time, how similar the bars down here were to the ones he constructed around his bed to keep Granger in.
"Fuck you, Malfoy!" A voice shouted from deep within and Draco narrowed his eyes to see Dean Thomas, one of the Muggleborns he had brought in a few months ago. And... his old classmate. But Draco didn't think about that. He didn't think about anything but getting them out and then getting back to Granger.
That's all that mattered.
"Shut up in there, ya filthy vermin!" A burly guard tapped his wand on the bars, making them buzz and crackle. The Muggleborns crowded back, pushing and shoving to get away from them until the buzzing stopped.
The guard laughed. "They're rowdy today. Snatchers brought in 'bout seven new ones last nigh' and I think it's got 'em awe jumped up."
Draco didn't say anything, just looked back into the gloomy cells, catching eyes wide and white with bright fear.
Some of them glared at him in hatred and Draco found himself having to look away. Granger wasn't the only Muggleborn he had put behind bars and while she had forgiven him for it, he didn't expect any of the others to. "Have their wands been checked in?"
The guard straightened up and cleared his throat, as if remembering that Draco was not just a seventeen year old kid, he was a Death Eater and loyal servant to the Dark Lord. "Yes. Yes, sir," he added quickly. "All clocked and locked in the case."
Snatchers often kept wands they confiscated, just in case something happened to theirs, but they were paid more if they turned in the Muggleborn with the wand and the Ministry had quite a collection. Once the world was settled and in order, they would be able to dole out wands to those deemed worthy of bearing one.
At a profit, of course. Something had to pay for that disgusting collection of kitten plates.
Draco glanced at Weasley, who was huffing in agitation, and looked back at the guard. "Open it."
He shuffled, his cheap regulation boots scuffing along the floor as if he couldn't decide to stay where he was or head towards the wands. "Erm, 'm not supposed to open it withou' Umbridge's permission."
Draco sneered nastily at him and watched sweat bead on the guard's upper lip. "Do you know who I am?"
The guard paled. "You're... you're D-Draco Mal-Malfoy." Draco lifted one brow. "Sir! Draco Malfoy, sir!"
Draco pulled out his wand and traced the heavy lock on the cell. "That's right. But I don't know who you are. Which means you're a Half Blood," Draco looked the guard over with disdain, "at best. And who's to say you don't belong behind these bars with the rest of them?"
The guard was stammering, unable to form words.
Draco advanced. "Me. That's who."
The guard tried to move back, but stumbled over his too large boots. He fell backwards, crashing to the floor in a heap. Some of the Muggleborns laughed and Draco watched the guard's legs kick as he struggled to get back to his feet.
"You're here to guard, guard. Not to question my orders." The guard almost fell over getting back up. Draco kicked him back down and... wanted to do it again. Instead he grabbed the sweat soaked collar of the guard and hauled him up. "I said, open up the wand case."
The guard did as he was told. And then the fucker had walked back over the the cages and ran his wand over the bars, sending crackling flashes of blue lights across them to scare the Muggleborns who had come forward to watch their jailor get knocked around.
Draco couldn't blame them, he enjoyed a good show too.
But when the guard laughed as the blue light snapped and jumped to an old woman who hadn't gotten out of the way in time, Draco sliced his wand through the air, pinning the guard against the bars and watched as the blue light turned white and his screams were lost in the crackling mess.
"Malfoy!" Fucking Weasley was always ruining his fun. "We need him to open the locks!"
Draco sighed and let the guard, who was thoroughly stunned, fall to the floor. He dragged his gaze lazily back up to Weasley and shrugged.
"Plan B?"
"Fucking asshole," Weasley muttered and Draco couldn't help but feel a little pleased that he was getting on Weasley's nerves. Even if they were supposed to be working together or whatever.
They weren't on the same side, they never would be, because Granger would alway be in between them.
Draco walked over to the bars of the cell and the Muggleborns shrank back from him. Granger could have so easily ended up in a place like this. In another life, he could have been the one to put her here.
He could still remember how it felt to hate her.
To hate them all.
Draco looked up at the faces of the Muggleborns, tight with terror.
"I'm going to get you out of here." He couldn't erase what he had done, but he could do that, at least.
"Go to hell, Death Eater!"
"Murderer!"
"Eat shit and die!"
They yelled at him, taunting him, while Draco tried to work on the main lock to the cells.
"Look! It's Ron Weasley!"
A cheer went up amongst the Mudbloods—fuck, no, Muggleborns—and Draco saw that Weasley had discarded his charmed disguise. They were clapping their hands, shouting his name, and crying in happiness at the sight of him.
Like he was some sort of savior, here to rescue them from the evil Death Eaters.
"What's taking so long?" Weasley said hotly, pushing Draco away from the lock.
He was good at this, small delicate charm work. After all, he had enough practice with it, fixing the cabinet last year. "I've almost got it—"
"Move!" Weasley shoved him out of the way and pointed his wand at the lock.
"NO!" Draco shouted, but it was too late. Weasley's spell wrapped blasted through the lock and the Muggleborns cheered again.
A second later, it was drowned out by the sound of an alarm going off.
Weasley's face paled.
Draco grabbed a set of keys from the unconscious guard next to him. "You've just alerted the whole Ministry that we're here. Good job, Weasley!" Draco snarled and sent the keys flying into the sectioned off cells, unlocking them. The Muggleborns started to stream forward. "They weren't supposed to know until after we got them all out. We have to get them upstairs now! This place will be crawling with Death Eaters soon!"
The door at the other end of the hall opened and three guards stormed in. The Muggleborns started screaming, pushing and shoving as the guards pulled out their wands.
Draco raised his and they stopped for a moment, confused by his Death Eater robes. He used this to his advantage, sending ropes to snake around them, pinning their arms uselessly at their sides.
Some of the Muggleborns had stopped to watch.
"GO!" Draco shouted as harshly as he could and they jumped, running towards the opposite door.
As it turned out, Draco's assumption of "soon" had been an understatement.
Weasley had passed out wands and portkeys as best he could, but there were so many of them, more than they had accounted for.
They didn't have enough portkeys for everyone.
And the Death Eaters had arrived, pushing into the narrow hallway and lighting it up with curses of every color.
It was pandemonium.
Draco felt his chest seize, the chaos of the battle was overwhelming and he wanted to pull on his mask again, just to feel any measure of separation from it. But he'd come here to help, not to hide.
Spells flew in every direction. Draco saw bodies lying on the ground, Muggleborns, Ministry workers, and Death Eaters alike. It was impossible to tell who was winning and maybe that was because no one was.
But the Muggleborns didn't need to win, they needed to escape. He didn't know where Weasley was or if he had any portkeys left on him.
Shit, Weasley had the one that was going to take them back to the forest and to Granger and Potter when they were done.
Fuck. Draco spun around, trying to find the ginger prick in the crowded mess.
He saw a Muggleborn fall. Then another.
Where the fuck was Weasley?
Draco couldn't waste anymore time. He knew the place, the same glen where he had found Granger, feverish and shivering in the snow. He had found her once, he could do it again.
There was a boy about eight or so still crouched in one of the cages. Draco grabbed him, hauling him out and shoved him towards the stairs. "Get out."
"Xavier!" a woman shouted and ran towards the boy, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him away from Draco.
He didn't get the chance to ask if she had a portkey because someone had thrown a punch right into his gut. Even with his dragonhide brigandine it knocked the air from his lungs and Draco doubled over and sagged against... Dean Thomas.
Thomas pushed him back against the wall.
"That's for sticking us in here," Thomas shouted and Draco saw his palms were badly burned, probably from that asshole guard sparking the bars when he was bored. Draco couldn't help but notice Thomas was wandless.
How many others were still here unarmed?
"Yeah," Draco coughed and straightened up. "Well now I'm letting you out. Let's call it even, shall we?"
Thomas stuck his nose in Draco's face. "Not by a long shot, Malfoy."
But his hands left Draco's robes and he shoved Draco back as he took off into the melee again.
The plan had gone to shit, which wasn't that surprising, seeing as it was a shit plan to begin with.
Another Death Eater raised a Muggleborn man into the air, higher and higher until Draco couldn't even hear him screaming anymore.
He said he would give Granger a distraction and no one could say he hadn't delivered. It wasn't two seconds later when the first group of Muggleborns were pulled away by a portkey. At least something was going right.
But as more Muggleborns disappeared, it was easier for the Ministry guards and Death Eaters to narrow in on the ones still there.
A few broke through and ran up the stairs, Draco was about to follow them, try and get them to the surface when he saw Weasley's disgusting red hair out of the corner of his eye.
Weasley's wand was at his feet and he was getting his freckled ass handed to him by McNair.
McNair had Weasley pushed against the bars and was turning his face into one bloody bruise with hit after hit.
"Draco!" McNair boomed. "Caught this little shit helping them out of the cells. Looks like one of Weasley's brood." McNair hauled Weaslebee up and turned his face so Weasley's bloodshot eye met Draco's. "Bit hard to tell now though!"
McNair was laughing, but Draco couldn't stop staring at Weasley.
How long he had dreamed of this; Weasley weak and defenseless and completely at his mercy, like Draco had been last year in the Room of Requirement.
"M-Malfoy—" It was more of a garble than a word, but it was still his name.
Draco clenched his fist around his wand, feeling the signet ring tighten around his finger.
McNair hit Weasley again and Draco watched blood dribble over his chin. "Mal... Malfoy..." Weasley huffed. "P-p-please."
He thought about what Granger would say. She'd be screaming, begging him to help if she was here.
Draco ground his teeth together.
"McNair."
The large man stopped and turned, fist held in front of Weasley's face.
Draco stepped forward, and picked up Weasley's wand from the ground. He saw the relief in Weasley's bleeding eye.
Yeah, Brown liked the stupid ones all right.
Draco held out Weasley's wand. To McNair.
"You're a Death Eater," Draco hissed. "Act like it."
The hopelessness sinking over Weasley's fucked up face was... sublime. Draco was smiling, trying to imprint the look of it into his memory so he could play it back again and again.
"You traitor!" Weasley bellowed and fought helplessly against McNair. "She'll never forgive you for this!"
Draco's mouth curved into a cruel smirk. "I'll tell her you died a hero."
"Fuck you!" Weasley shouted as Draco turned, sliding his mask in place. He hated leaving, hated that he couldn't stay and watch as Weasley was beaten and tortured. Hated that he couldn't do it himself. Hell, he could feel the curse heating in his arm already.
He didn't even think he needed his wand to cast it. It felt... like a part of him by now. His pain, his curse.
Draco wanted to watch Weasley suffer under it.
But there was something even better than that waiting for him topside.
Anyway, someone had to help the rest of the Muggleborns get to the surface and since Weasley the great big hero was otherwise occupied, Draco had to see the plan through. If Weasley somehow got away from McNair, he'd have to fight for every step to the surface whereas Draco could saunter his way up there without a single person stopping him. He could get the Muggleborns out. Weasley was dead weight.
So who was the real hero then? The one who died needlessly for the cause, or the one who actually accomplished what they had come here to do?
And if Granger wanted to thank Draco on her hands and knees for risking his life and tell him that he was her hero, well, all the more reason to save as many as he could.
.
Lake water was still dripping down Hermione's curls when she and Harry appeared in the woods near the small pond. It looked so different now; no snow or frost covering the forest floor and the trees were so full of bright, green leaves, they blocked out much of the sun, leaving only puddles of golden daylight scattered around the clearing.
Harry looked at his watch. "Come on, Ron," he muttered under his breath.
Hermione looked around, hoping to see white blond hair in between the trees. She gripped Hufflepuff's cup tightly in her hand.
They'd done it. They'd gotten the cup. It hadn't exactly gone according to plan, but Hermione hadn't really expected it to. But they hadn't seen a single Death Eater as the dragon broke through the floor under Gringotts and carried them out into the cloudy London sky.
That meant they had been busy elsewhere. That meant that Draco and Ron's plan had gone as it was supposed to.
Maybe it had worked too well.
Oh dear. Oh God.
Draco.
Harry started pacing. "We need to get to Hogwarts."
"I know," Hermione said impatiently, biting her lip as she looked around the empty woods again.
"It's Ravenclaw's relic this time. And it's at the fucking—" Harry kicked a tree. "School!" He kicked it again. "All this time!"
"Harry!"
With his final kick, Harry leaned his head against the bark, breathing heavily.
"We'll find it, Harry," she said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder. But the words were empty, they both knew it. They didn't even know what they were looking for and it could be anywhere.
Harry turned and rested against the tree, lifting his face up to look at the canopy overhead. "If Dumbledore couldn't find it, how are we supposed to?"
Hermione's heart clenched. Harry couldn't give up hope. Not now, not yet.
"He was there for... decades. And I'm supposed to find it in one day?" He sighed and sank down to the roots of the tree.
Hermione crouched next to him. "We are going to find it." She summoned up her Gryffindor courage and plunged on, ignoring the hollow look on Harry's face. "As-as soon as Draco and Ron get here, we'll go right away. And we'll find it. Whatever it is. Together."
Harry nodded noncommittally and Hermione watched as a dark mood descended over him. He just needed some time, that was all. Harry would be okay. Harry always ended up okay.
She chose to believe this time was no different.
But she couldn't stop her heart from beating hard as she looked around the trees again, hoping against hope that Draco would appear in between them.
"HARRY!"
Hermione spun around.
Ron was rushing towards them, an old ink pen clutched in his freckled hand. Their portkey. His face... oh God, his face.
Half of it was swollen, covered in angry red bruises that were beginning to darken. Blood was seeping from the corner or his mouth and under his eye.
But he was alive. Thank Godric. She might not be happy with him, but she wouldn't be happy if he was dead either.
Hermione hoped Draco wasn't hurt too badly. She looked past Ron, trying to see him. He must be close by.
Harry stood up, tense and ready. Ron was panting as he slid to a stop in front of them. Hermione took a few steps forward, Bellatrix's wand in one hand and Hufflepuff's cup in the other.
"Draco? Draco!" There was no answer and no sign of him. She rounded on Ron, shoving him roughly in the shoulder. "Where is he? Where's Draco?"
Ron's bruised face twisted. "Where do you think he is, Hermione? He's with his own kind!"
No...
No no no no.
He wouldn't... Draco wouldn't have... left her.
"You're lying." Her voice shook.
"He betrayed me the first chance he got."
"The Muggleborns—" Harry asked.
Ron nodded, gulping down another large breath. "Got as many as I could out. I distracted McNair with my face to do it, but it was worth it to save them."
Something about Ron's tone sent a strange shiver down Hermione's spine.
He turned towards her, the blue of one eye surrounded by blood and bright with anger. "He watched, Hermione. That son of a bitch stood there and smiled while McNair did this to me." Ron pointed at his face. "He gave that fucker my wand and told him to use it on me."
Hermione shook her head, wet curls weighed heavily on her head.
"He's on their side. Always has been. He's probably kneeling in front of You-Know-Who right now and telling him everything about the horcruxes." Ron looked at Harry. "I told you we couldn't trust him. I fucking told—"
"I know what you told me, Ron!" Harry yelled back. He let out a harsh breath, his dark hair sticking in different directions as it slowly dried. "And it doesn't matter, okay? It doesn't matter if he tells about the horcruxes because You-Know-Who already knows. I saw it."
Hermione didn't think her legs were working anymore. Draco wouldn't go back, he wouldn't. She... she knew that.
"That's why we need to get to Hogwarts, right now!" There was a manic edge to Harry's voice.
"This must be some misunderstanding..." Hermione squeaked. "We need to wait for Draco."
Ron laughed mirthlessly. "When are you going to realize that he was using you?! God, Hermione, you're supposed to be the smart one!"
"Hermione," Harry grabbed onto her shoulders and turned her to face him. She had been searching the woods again, not believing that Draco wouldn't just... show up. "We need to go."
"But—"
"I know you care about him, but this war isn't going to be decided by whose side Draco fucking Malfoy is on. We need to find the horcruxes. We need to destroy them. If You-Know-Who gets to Ravenclaw's first, we very well may never get our hands on it. I need you to focus."
Hermione bit her lip. She couldn't just... leave him.
"He's going to be at the school and where he is, so is the snake. If we can get Ravenclaw's relic we will have the last horcruxes all in one place. We'll never have a better chance than this."
Hermione glanced at Ron, dabbing at the blood leaking from his mouth with his sleeve. Draco wouldn't have left without a good reason. But for the love of Godric, she couldn't think of what that would be.
Unless something had happened to him. Unless he was...
"I need it to be over," Harry said, a pleading tone to his voice.
Suddenly the golden cup felt very heavy in her hand. Something in Harry's expression sent a chill through her.
"I can't keep going like this. I need to end it."
Did he mean... No. He couldn't.
Hermione nodded. Harry was right, the war wouldn't be won based on whoever had Draco working for them at the moment. And if she really did want that future with him, they needed to win.
Which meant she needed to find that last horcrux and help Harry destroy it, before...
"Hermione?"
She looked up into Harry's emerald green eyes, alight with fervor. And they'd stay that way. Bright, hopeful, and alive.
"Okay," Hermione said in a small voice, glancing into the woods one last time. "Let's go."
.