Disclaimer: The plot is mine, everything else belongs to J.K Rowling. . .the mastermind behind the Potter books.
Trading Places
Bellatrix held Hermione in a death vice, her arm around the petite girl's neck, her distorted wand pressed to her temple. Voldemort was dead and the great Harry Potter lay in a pool of blood, limb, but breathing at least, his injuries could be fatal if they weren't tended to fast.
The oaf, Ron, had been incapacitated, knocked out, he had a few bruises here and there, his top torn and his hands filthy. He was alive though, that's what was important Draco supposed, or what would be important to her. There was not one person in the room however that he wanted to be safe more than the girl his aunt clung to as the mad women ranted wildly about her dead 'king', Draco would've traded everyone in the room, maybe even his mother, for that girl to be safe.
He wasn't sure when he'd fallen in love with her, he knew he'd always been somewhat attracted to her, she was pretty after all, just utterly...intolerable at times, he'd come to love her horridly holier-than-thou personality somewhere over the past year or two, he couldn't quite remember, he did know that the moment Bellatrix snatched her up and pointed her wand at Hermione's head, his heart skipped a beat, his blood ran cold until he was sure it had turned to ice, his fingers were that numb he thought for a second he had frostbite, yet they twitched uncontrollably at the evil grin on his aunt's face.
Despite being afraid that even moving an inch would provoke her, he was more afraid of what would happen if he stood there and did nothing, so he pulled out his wand, with shaky hands and aimed it at her,
"My curse will hit her well before yours hits me!" she cackled,
"Let her go!" he begged, his voice cracking on the last word,
"Disgusting! Has my sister and that husband of hers taught you nothing, Draco?" she dug her wand into Hermione's temple, causing the already beaten up girl to winch, "She's a mudblood. She DESERVES to die!"
"N-no, if anything, it's you that ought to!"
He watched as Hermione eyed him, half-pleading with him to protect her, the other half telling him not to bother getting himself killed for her, after all Bella was right, Hermione would be dead long before his curse hit her.
He couldn't just let her die, Draco may have been a conniving bully and a vile, foul, little coward, but he wasn't a killer, he could hurt people, yes, because he liked to feel powerful, because he liked to think he was better than them as he'd often been told, because it meant they couldn't hurt him. But he didn't have it in him to murder even a headmaster he wasn't particularly fond of, let alone the girl he loved. He'd been a right git to her over the years and the past fourteen months had really rattled him, his dream of being a great man, even if it was through fear, had been crushed when he realised he would be no more than a puppet doing Voldemort's bidding, such things terrified him as did the consequences.
It was Hermione's ever patience and kindness that helped him through after he failed to kill Dumbledore, instead of throwing him in Azkaban like he expected her to, she, reluctantly, gave him one last chance to redeem himself, he grasped it with both hands, having learnt his lesson and hoping maybe he could escape his nightmare with Potter's help, he hadn't intended on falling for her, in fact he damned well tried to stop himself.
Since Voldemort's rise he realised that his parent's ideal was empty, meaningless, there was no difference between pureblood or mudbloods, Hermione had saved them from Death Eaters time again and time again with her lengthily knowledge of spells, he had no reputation left to uphold, no cold stares from his father to beware of, they'd been in the middle of a war and he'd never felt more free, so he gave up the ghost, admitting his true feelings, he was surprised to find she felt the same, it would have been amusing had it not been so masochistic of her to fall in love with the bloke who'd made her life utter hell for the most part.
He'd known for a long time he might not survive this war, but she had to, he'd never once thought she wouldn't, the very essence of the thought made him feel sick, he'd brushed it away before it even had a chance to clog his already messed up mind.
The scene unfolding before him now was excruciating, worse than any Cruciatus curse he'd endured, the very fact that Bella could kill her any moment and there really wouldn't be a lot he could do about it made his chest tight with agony, in a minute his only reason for ever existing could be taken away,
"Crucio!" he spoke low, causing his aunt to drop Hermione, collapsing to the floor and withering in pain.
He kept his wand aimed at her while Hermione crawled over to his feet, with one hand he helped her up,
"Come on." she said, desperately wanting to leave that place.
Draco nodded warily, lowering his wand, they ran out the building, hand in hand, Hermione in front, with he looking back every so often to make sure Bella didn't come after them, however he ran into Hermione when she suddenly came to a halt,
"What is it, Granger?" he snapped, much harsher than was necessary, he was scared, he wanted to get her to safety before they talked anything over, "We have to hurry!"
He felt her recoil, that's when he looked up to see another Death Eater, he instantly moved in front of her, raising his wand, the masked monster merely looked at him with a cocked head, before they both screamed the words in unison,
"Avada Kadavra!"
Draco ducked, pulling Hermione with him, causing the Death Eater to miss, the spell hit Voldemort's follower, who fell to his knees, lifeless,
"You alright?" he asked, helping her stand, she nodded, staring at him, "What now?"
"You killed him but not Dumbledore...Why?"
He glared at her, it wasn't easy for him to deal with his own emotions or morals so why for the love of Merlin did she feel the need to question his motives now?
"I didn't really have a choice, did I? He was going to kill you!"
"He was likely going to kill both of us." she corrected, to which he only replied by letting out a growl of frustration.
Running a shaky hand through his sweaty, blonde hair and grabbing her arm, he heard a faint laugh and a mumble then immediately after a blue-green light engulfed him, he realised he was no longer holding her wrist and turned to see his worst fears come true.
Hermione Granger, the only thing left in the world that he gave a damn about was lying dead on the floor. His eyes widened, filling with tears, he sank to the floor, cradling her head in his lap, he couldn't see through the blur the tears had made to his vision, but he knew the dark figure that approached them, followed closely by the mad women his mother called a sister, rocking back and forth, as if to sooth the dead girl he lifted his wand for the umpteenth time that night, pointing it first to Bellatrix,
"Avada Kadavra!"he snarled, instantly killing her, then without thinking he aimed it at his father, Lucius Malfoy,
"You don't want to do that, m'boy. You know if I hadn't killed her, the Dark Lord would have killed you for even thinking of touching such a despicable creature."
His hand shaking, he didn't want to have to kill his own flesh and blood. It was why he let Bella live the first time, he would probably have let her live a second if he hadn't first thought it was her who killed Hermione...killed...
"AVADA KADAVRA!" he bellowed, putting all his force into it, the blue light surrounded them.
Within seconds his father and aunt were dead, but that didn't matter, what did matter was Hermione's immobile form.
She's asleep.
He told himself.
She's not dead, she's just exhausted.
Maybe it was why he kept rocking her, maybe it was why he hummed the only lullaby he knew, the one his mother used to sing him to sleep with, he liked to make believe that's all it was, her being over tired, he knew better.
His sobs told him that.
You don't wanna hurt me,
But see how deep the bullet lies,
Unaware that I'm tearing you asunder,
There's thunder in our hearts, baby,
So much hate for the ones we love,
Tell me we both matter, don't we?
You and me won't be unhappy,
If I only could make a deal with God,
And get him to swap our places,
If I only could...
Song: Running Up That Hill
Artist: Placebo