His body trembled with heaving sobs. His body arched over the sink as his sweat trailed down his back and angry tears spilled from his face. His labored breathing shook his torso. A growl emerged from his lips and he gritted his teeth.
A little deeper. If he could only dig a little deeper.
Droplets of blood slithered down his wrist as he carved into his skin, tearing into the ink. A roar erupted from his throat a ripped into his arm.
Hermione's heart raced as he pressed her body against the stone wall behind her. The group had scattered during the battle in the courtyard. Clutching her bleeding side, she attempted to hobble towards another fight, but to no avail. She moved towards any sound. She wouldn't go down without a fight.
A echo rippled down the hallway - a yell, a fight. 'Here it goes,' she thought, turning sharply around the corner. Her heart stopped as he eyes fell upon the bleeding, crumpled mess on the floor.
The tattoo on his arm couldn't be eradicated, and his efforts had only morphed jet black to deep red. It was futile. Weakness swept over him, and he fell, whimpering.
She stared - for hours it seemed. It could have been seconds or minutes, but it felt like hours. It only took her moments to realize who it was. His pale skin nearly blended with his white shirt, and a ratty mop of blonde hair was splayed across the cold stone floor. His body quivered, and a shudder ran through Hermione's body as she spotted the blooding seeping from his lame body. She was petrified.
And confused. All her willpower was conserved for the sole purpose of destroying them - destroying him. And there he was. At her feet. All the things she has wanted to do to him, to hurt him... And what could she do now? Nothing. She wanted to make him cry, scream, beg for mercy, pay for everything he did, everything he caused. And someone had beat her to it. Hatred was boiling in her bones as she gripped her wand. She could end him. Right here. Silently she raised her wand.
He groaned as his arm outstretched, and she gasped. His own wand, bloody and broken, was wedged in the crevices of his wound.
He heard a voice behind him, and adrenaline ripped through him. Hermione jumped back, wand ready. He stumbled to his feet and spun around with a snarl. Weak, he staggered, and fell to the ground, facing the intruder.
"Her-" he choked. His eyes were raw and red, and he couldn't fight the agony welling up in his throat. Another sobbed tore through him, and his body fell limp. He couldn't. Not anymore. Nothing was worth the effort, the fight, the hatred.
Hermione's heart was hammering in her chest. Her emotions where whirling inside her in a tempestuous rage, but she stood, motionless as stone. He was pitiful. Pathetic. After years of harassment at his hands, his words, he was below her now, powerless and pathetic.
He didn't care what she did to him now.
No. He did. She could...
"T-take it-" he stuttered through broken sobs. "Take it. Take it. Take it." He whispered, aching with desperation.
Hermione's skin crawled at the sound of his pleas. He made her sick. But... take what? Why was his wand?... It didn't matter. He was weak and vulnerable and this was her chance.
She wasn't getting it. "Take it." His voice rose. "TAKE IT. TAKE IT. TAKE IT." He was rocking back and forth now, screaming.
She didn't understand, and she couldn't finger this sliver of a feeling rising in her breast. She hated it. She hated him.
"Stop it!" She screamed, advancing. "Take what? What do you want?" She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him towards her. "You've taken everything! What do you think I'll do for you?" Tears were springing into her eyes, clouding her vision. She violent pulled her hand away, throwing him to the floor at her feet.
She held her ground as he slowly rose, shivering, but quiet. His fingers coiled around the broken stub of his wand and tore it from his flesh. The sound sent shivers down her spine. He raised his eyes to hers.
"Take it away!" He held out his forearm to reveal fully the damage he has done to himself. The dark mark was still visible, despite the canyons of broken skin and tattered flesh.
Hermione gagged at sight of blood leaking from his wrist and stepped back.
"Please," he inched forward, his voice broken with the onset of coming tears. "I tried." He dropped to his knees before her, holding out his arm like an offering to the gods. "I tried..."
Pressure was building inside of Hermione's chest, and tears were spilling from her eyes. She couldn't hate this. This bleeding, sobbing mess. She was trying so hard to hate him. So hard.
His eyes were glued to the creases in the stone floor. This was his last try. For anything. If she couldn't help him, she best kill him - or he would do it himself. But it was ages. He could hardly hear her breathing, and she hadn't moved. A moment. A moment more. Maybe she will... Nothing. The whimpers of his despair echoed through the cold room. He began to lower his arm. Fine, then. It was done. His other hand feebly reached for the shreds of his wand.
"Wait." His eyes snapped open, wide. Fingertip by fingertip, Hermione wrapped her warm hand about his arm ignoring the blood pooling in his gash. Her eyes carefully surveyed the damage.
"Draco," she whispered. "What did you do to yourself?..."
His heart jumped to his throat at the sound of his name, and a surge of... relief, swept through him. Strength was leaving his body again, and he collapsed, but this time, Hermione wrapped her arms about him and laid him down gently, resting his head on her lap. She reached into her pocket for a glass vial and sprinkled a few drops on his ruined flesh. He could feel her magic tickle the site of his destruction as he stared at her face.
She didn't dare look him in the eyes. She concentrated fully on treating the wound. She could hardly believe he was still conscious after losing so much blood. Quietly, tenderly, she moved her finger tips about, healing and mending. This would take quite some time.
His entire body felt warmer, his muscles relaxed at her touch. His lips parted as a moan flew from his lips, but the tears kept coming, cascading from his steel eyes.
She wanted to heal him. To help him. But she couldn't erase the dark mark. It would only be gone when Voldemort died. But she was doing her best. Pore by pore, she tried to pull the ink from his skin. It was dimmer, but it was there. She prayed that Harry was still alive, that he was close to killing the Dark Lord. For everyone's sake.
"Hermione..." His voice broke her focus, and her eyes snapped to his face. His lips crashed against hers before she could even look into his eyes. His unspoiled arm has found its way to the back of her head and he pulled her closer, down to him. Her lips were melting into his and a violent desire urged her to obey the movement of his mouth.
She felt him stop and he simply held her face against his, his mouth to her cheek. She felt the corners of his lips turn upwards, and slowly, his head dropped back onto her lap. His eyes were closed. His breathing was heavy.
Hermione gazed at him. Never in her life had she seen him calm, serene. She laid a delicate kiss on his forehead.
As she closed her eyes, Voldemort did the same. For the last time.