"Harry Potter is dead," said Voldemort as if hissing. "Victory, is mine, and mine alone." He laughed as a maniac would.
All the horcruxes have been destroyed, but the Dark Lord stood there in front of the Great Hall, still breathing, still alive. How it came to be, no one can understand, not even Harry, Ron or Hermione.
Those who have fought against him have cowered as if in pain. They mourned for the affliction and for the one last hope that was lost. The Death Eaters showed contemptuous smiles on their faces, their heads up high. They knew for a fact that they have won and the traitors- they suffered and died, in vain.
A quiet scuffle then arose from the entrance of the Great Hall. In the vestibule stood Bellatrix Lestrange and in front of her, Hermione. She held her captive, her wand pointed at Hermione's temple while one of her arms was across her throat.
"My Lord, see who we have captured," said Lestrange.
"Ah, it is the mudblood."
Hermione's face revealed pure terror. She struggled to free herself but it remained futile.
"Your friends, they are dead. What remains with you is nothing," Voldemort said.
A thread of silence hang upon the Great Hall. Everyone's attention is focused on what will happen next. They knew fairly well that at that moment, death is something which arrives swiftly. Any moment now, Hermione, will lie there motionless, and just like Harry and Ron, dead and gone.
Bellatrix dragged Hermione towards Voldemort. Inches away, she let go of her and gave her totally to the Dark Lord, for slaughter.
"You are an abomination to our world where you do not belong! A filthy mudblood! Who do you think you are, helping Potter to destroy me?" Voldemort scoffed then grasped her neck .
"See where it brought you, to your own destruction!" He said as he tightened his grip on her throat. Their faces were mere inches away. Hermione can see the cold black eyes clearly, it is as if she is facing oblivion.
If the end of her will come then why can't it come much sooner, she thought. Voldemort is right, she's got nothing more. Ron never returned after he left them. The next thing they know, he was killed by the Death Eaters after he was caught and writhed for information as to where Harry is. And just before dawn came that day, she lost Harry. She was just waiting for Voldemort or anyone at all from his followers to cast her the killing curse. His grip grew on tighter still until tears came from her eyes silently.
"Afraid?" Voldemort asked mockingly. "Well you should have been afraid before when you even started to think of defying me!"
He is wrong. Her tears are not because of her fear of dying, she has already accepted that. She is crying for those who have died and those who she will soon leave behind. Those are for the hope that they have held on tightly but turned out to be a somewhat pointless belief. The tears are for the suffering which will continue to endure, till when, nobody knows for sure.
"Spare her," somebody said. Everyone in the Great Hall turned their heads to see the brave one who chose to interrupt Voldemort in his junctures. Then Draco Malfoy moved forward from the assembly of Death Eaters.
"Ah, it turns out to be Draco," hissed Voldemort releasing his grip on Hermione's throat making it possible for her to catch her breath.
She looked up at Draco in disbelief but he just continued to stare at the Dark Lord.
"Spare her," he repeated.
"Lucius," Voldemort said.
It took Lucius Malfoy some time to gather up courage to step forward and face the Dark Lord. He traversed limply beside his son who was still glaring at Voldemort.
"What do you think you're doing?" Lucius asked Draco with much annoyance yet he was still able to keep his voice low so that only his son can hear him.
"Lucius, you might as well tend to your son. I will NOT tolerate any of these fanfares!" roared Voldemort, his voice echoing throughout the hall.
"I am deeply sorry, my lord," said Lucius trying to tug Draco with him, trying to motion him to return behind where they are supposed to be, but he remained where he is standing unmoved.
"I will not let you kill her," Draco said at last. Everyone's eyes were upon him, the Death Eaters, those who fought against Voldemort and even Hermione's. No one will understand, he knows it.
"Are you out of your senses?" screamed Lucius, already losing his patience.
"You don't have to do any of this," Hermione spoke under her breath, her eyes locked upon Draco and tears still flowing from her eyes.
"Silence!" Voldemort's voice much louder than Lucius or Hermione. He beckoned the elder Malfoy to return to the crowd leaving just Draco and Hermione on the center of the Great Hall. "Tell me, why are you doing this, Draco?" he asked.
"Because-, because I love her," Draco replied in a quiet voice but with the stillness, the words he just said were so audible for everyone to hear.
Hermione's gaze towards Draco were full of questioning. What has gotten into him?
"Oh, love," Voldemort jeered at Malfoy. "I am quite sure you have heard of Potter talking about love, telling as if it is something which could save him and you all. But where is he now? You have spared much for your so-called hero, and now, he is dead." He spoke the last words slowly, as if making each syllable pierce into the very hearts of those who are listening.
"And you, Malfoy, think, that you can save this mudblood because you love her?" Voldemort continued, pointing the elder wand to Draco, then to Hermione.
"Well then, make me!" Voldemort roared. A flash of red light broke out from the tip of his wand, hitting Hermione straight onto her chest.
"No!" Draco yelled, but even before he knew it she was already lying on the ground not far from him.
Hermione's whole body recoiled, both her fist tight in a clench. It was the most tormenting state that she has been, far worse than what had Bellatrix has done to her not long ago at the Malfoy Manor. She chose not to scream in agony and pain but instead she just lied there on the floor, her body still continued to cringe and her every breath became heavy. Hermione looked up on the ceiling of the hall. She remembered how fascinated she has always been with its magnificence, especially at the evening when the stars are much visible. At that moment, the feelings that her memories gave her were all numbing. The only thing that she can feel was the torture that the cruciatus curse inflicts into her. It will not be long, she thought, everything will be over.
Seeing Hermione at her current condition, Malfoy grabbed his wand and upon pointing it at Voldemort, screamed, "Avada-" but even before he was able to finish, the Dark Lord has already disarmed him.
"Very well, let us make it much harder on you. I suggest, a slow and painful death! Traitor!" Voldemort said angrily then gestured his wand. a flash of light once again, came out from its tip, towards Draco. The hit served like a punch, lifting him in midair then in suspension. Everything seems to be in slow motion. much like in a dream. He felt as if he's plunging into an abyss then everything went somewhat pitch black.
-
It was the night before he returns to Hogwarts from the Christmas break when he was in fifth year, he remembered. Being able to see a clear sky from the window is a pleasure especially for someone like him who lives in the dungeons of Slytherin house for a handful of months. He has taken delight for the darkness, silence and solitude of his room when he heard a quiet knock after which, his mother came in. "Can I talk to you?" Narcissa Malfoy asked. Draco nodded and she walked towards him by the window. "You always have a wonderful view from here," she said. Draco did not say anything but continued to survey the clear sky with stars much like specks of glitters in a black cloth. "I have observed that you have grown much quieter since you have returned," Narcissa continued, "is there something which bothers you?" Draco took a deep breath and said without meeting his mother's eyes, "How does it feel like to be in love, mother?" Narcissa smiled in amusement, replied, "Well, it seems like everything has grown brighter. You can sense that unexplainable happiness in your heart. Or that, your days will feel incomplete when you have not caught sight of her or even got the chance to talk to her." She wrapped her arms across his shoulder and continued, "Do you fancy someone? It is Pansy, I presume?" "No, not Pansy. She's very much coquettish with the other Slytherin boys and besides, she just liked me because I am Draco Malfoy and not because I am Draco. I don't see us fit for each other," he scoffed in reply. "Then who is?" Narcissa asked inquisitively but hiding the intent on her questioning which instead imposed a lesser look of interest. Draco sighed. "If I tell you mother, promise me you will not tell anyone, especially father," he paused. "It is Granger, you see." "The muggle-born?" "You're surprised, as I have expected," he said blatantly. "But I thought you don't like her," his mother replied. "Because others will look at it as a farcical circumstance. No one will approve of it, surely not anyone I know of and not even her friends," he said looking so sullen. "Shall I tell her anything? Or at least give a hint?" Narcissa touched her son's nape as a mother would. "Son, it is not the best of our times which means it is not the finest moment to make any decisions that could possibly stir your life out of the path you have already been used too. You know you have to protect yourself from any choice that could destroy yourself," she told Draco."But don't let what you are feeling right now escape you. Instead, treat her like a star. Marvel her from a distance, let it stay that way, and soon enough you will be able to reach her," Narcissa ended, looking at her son's face who's looking beyond the window and into the night sky. Draco nodded in agreement with what his mother told him. He cannot help but smile in that one string of hope she has actually made him see. "Very well then, good night, son. May she visit you in your dreams," she kissed his right cheek then left the room. -
"Not my son! Not my son!" bawled Narcissa Malfoy in panic. She tried to cover Draco's wounds to stop them from bleeding. The wand which he has borrowed from hers was a few feet away. She cannot cast any spell or at least do something.
"How dare you?" she screamed. Narcissa got up then hurried towards the wand. Upon grabbing it, she yelled, "Avada Kedavra!"
The anger consumed her. Voldemort can take away anything but not her son. The Dark Lord, who was caught off guard and with a less swift response caused about by weakness from losing all the horcruxes and casting spells with much force, hit the ground, motionless.
Seeing what had happened, those who have fought against Voldemort soon grabbed each of their wands pointing it to all the Death Eaters present at the Great Hall. Everything went into chaos, everyone started casting spells against their known opponents.
Draco who was lying some feet away from Hermione dragged himself towards her, in much difficulty. He does not know ho much time he still have left but he doesn't care. With mere inches away, he held her with his bloodied hands. His black clothes seems to appear much darker with his blood over them.
Prof. Mcgonagall came running towards them who were still lying on the floor in the middle of another fight which broke off. Without having much time to drag them into safety, she instead cast a sheild charm for their protection afterwhich she tried to cast a stunning spell towards Yaxley who cast her a jinx. She was soon gone from view.
"I'm," Draco started struggling. He was already catching his breath but his grip on Hermione's hand were full of his remaining strength as if not wanting her to let go. "I'm sorry this-, is the only thing I can do for you," he continued and smiled slightly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything."
Not expecting it, more tears came from Hermione's eyes. Although still in pain, she was able to say, "Why?"
"Because," Draco paused. He felt as if he's already drowning from his own blood. Struggling once again, he continued, "Because, I love you."
The smile that he has given Hermione did not leave his face, but his grip on Hermione's hands grew lesser and lesser. Draco lied there beside her fixed, motionless.
The curse was already slightly wearing off and hardly tormenting her, Hermione tightned her hands on Draco's which just seconds before held her for the first time. The feeling of being broken was much more intense than the way she felt hours ago. It seems as if she was crushed once more after already being crushed. The magnitude of what she has been feeling prevented her from seeing the person rushing with wand pointed at her. What she has just seen was the green bolt of light which then jolted right at her. The end she was expecting has already came. Her barren gaze still towards Draco, his lifeless body beside her, their hands atop each other. No one could have imagined, not even the two of them.
If anyone will ask him how he remembers his demise, he will tell them not of the pain that he has felt or that it was too bloody. He will instead say that he died because he has loved and in his death he was able to reach the stars.