Alive
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter
There was ash, floating all around her, down upon her. There was fire, covering her, caressing her under the dark sky, the only light thing in this world, this time. She had become oddly mute to it all, her ears no longer hearing the spells being fired, the screams of those who lost their lives. Death Eaters and Aurors, friends and enemies falling to the ground, bleeding, crying out. A war…
Magic was not as messy as guns and other muggle weapons, but it was just as violent. The feeling of ice crawling beneath your skin, falling to the ground after getting blasted away with a sickening thud. The feeling of limbs being torn off, sides being ripped open, hearts being squeezed…
Hermione Granger felt it all. As she lay there gasping into the air of ashes, she felt every little part of her body. Her limbs, her heart… She was surprised it was still beating. She felt it beneath the pain, pounding away in a way that was almost insulting. To be so alive when there was so much death, to still be breathing when the bodies of her friends were piling up around her. Lupin, Lavender, Parvati, Fred, Mr. Weasley…
She coughed, choked on the tears that fell silently down her cheeks, mixing with the dirt, the blood, the sweat she had shed, was still shedding.
She wanted them to stop, wanted to get up and start to move on, to try to avenge all those deaths, but she was paralyzed. The spell that had brought her down had bound her limbs, a spell that had been thrown at her when her back was turned. She had fallen here to the forest floor and had waited for the Death Eater who had brought her down to finish the job. She was still waiting for someone to. Fred had been the one who had been protecting her fallen form, but he was gone now. Most of them were…
She didn't know how much time had passed; she barely knew if she was alive anymore. In her head she heard only humming, and within that humming all the smarts that she was notorious for. Magic historical dates, all the breeds of Magical Creatures, the different potions used to make one sleep, or giggle uncontrollably, or die…
The blood was draining, she heard footsteps far off, coming at her like a distant dream. A Death Eater, no doubt. Ron was far away from her, somewhere else in the forest, and could possibly be dead too. And Harry… Wherever he was, she was sure it was more important than her own life.
Unprotected she lay there, eyes slipping closed so that the darkness behind her eyes was all she saw. She didn't want to see her killed, didn't want to see the mask of death that would surely haunt her even in the afterlife. She wanted only her own darkness…
The person stopped next to her, and she repressed the shudder that wanted to go through her torn body. She would not give this monster the satisfaction of seeing her fear, of seeing any trace of emotion on her bloodied face. Nothing…
A cold hand was hovering near her face, the person bending down next to her. She couldn't tell if they were pointing their wand at her yet, didn't even really care. Death would come when it came; what point was there in dwelling over the inevitable?
Death was to be accepted in this, the final battle between Voldemort and Hogwarts. Or, more precisely, Voldemort and Harry Potter. It was so disheartening to think of, that seventeen year olds were battling against the greatest force of magic the wizarding world had yet to see. It was unfair, irrational; and yet, it was happening right now.
Teenagers that still had not had a chance to live—a child still in their own right—were casting spells that were deadly, spells that no one should never have to cast, spells that they shouldn't have had to learn. Teenagers becoming killers, becoming killed before they had the chance to graduate, to start a family, to gain more knowledge, to… To receive their first kiss…
The tears were falling down her face again, and she no longer cared if the Death Eater still positioned beside her saw. She would never fall in love, would never even receive her first kiss…
Despite her love for knowledge, Hermione had always been a secret romantic. She wanted to find the one for her, wanted to kiss them in the rain, wanted to get married to them, wanted to have children and then grandchildren, but never lose that spark she had with them. She wanted eternal love… And she would die without receiving any of it at all.
"Why don't you just kill me?"
It was a whisper, weak, but she meant it. Meant it with every part of her being. What point was there in living now? When all she knew was falling apart at the hands of evil, if they won? And if they did win, if Voldemort killed Harry, she knew that her world would be over anyway; why not just go now before she saw the true downfall, before she was forced to feel more pain?
The Death Eater beside her shifted, and she felt the cold hand that had been hovering over before reach down to grab her hand. Curiosity had always been a defect of hers, a flaw that she had tried to push past. And now, moments before what she thought would be her death, she had no reason or desire to try to hold it back.
Slowly her eyes blinked open, prepared to find the white mask of death that she was sure was there, right above her. Instead she only met the cool gray eyes of the last person she expected to see.
Somehow she managed to find her voice without her own knowledge, her famous mind absent from her as she whispered into the ashes his name.
"Malfoy…"
He was there, her old enemy, staring down at her through exhausted eyes. She vaguely noted how dirty he was, his usually perfect slicked back blonde hair falling into his face, across his eyes, his flawless skin covered in dirt and flakes of dried blood. He didn't say anything, only tightened his grip around her wrist, his skin blissfully cold against her burning flesh.
She was a ragdoll as he abruptly stood, pulling on her wrist to bring her up with him. As soon as she was in a standing position she began to fall again, the spell still settled inside of her even though she wished to god that it wasn't happening. She was about to fall flat on the ground in front of Draco Malfoy…
But then she was caught, the little breath she had falling out of her as she found herself frozen in Draco Malfoy's arms. She could only stare up at him, eyes wide, mute, as he stared down at her, his face flickering with shadows in the light of the fire blasting all around them. And for a second, just a moment, as those gray eyes bore down into hers, she felt her heart suddenly skip a beat. And she was paralyzed even more.
"Granger, we have to get you out of here."
She wasn't really aware of what he had said until a moment later, when her brain had caught up with the surreal situation she was now in. Her face found the strength to turn down into a weak scowl reminiscent of the various other occasions she had been around him, an expression reserved just for him.
"Why should I? Malfoy, you're a Death Eater."
There it was, the plain truth. He wore their dark robes despite the fact that he had discarded their white mask. He was the enemy, and to go anywhere with him meant certain death. She wished more than anything that she could move in that moment, race out of the cold arms wrapped around her waist, away from the dark clad chest she was forced to lean against.
"Granger, don't be so damn asinine; clearly I'm not one!"
"No Malfoy, now you're being asinine! Why the hell should I believe that?!" she argued.
"Because Granger, if I really was a Death Eater you'd be dead by now."
She could not find a retort; not when she knew that it was true. He could have killed her by now, so…
"Why didn't you?" Her eyes found his, brown staring into gray. "Why didn't you kill me?"
He paused, she felt him tense. Her eyes didn't leave his even as his flickered away for a moment, even as a shadow overtook his face.
"Because Granger, I… I don't want you to die."
She was speechless again, lost to her shock. She was still so hung up on what he had said to notice that his hands had crept down, and was only brought back to her current predicament when effortlessly Malfoy picked her up, one arm under her knees, the other behind her back. If she could have moved, she would have smacked him across the face right now.
"Malfoy, what are you doing!? Put me down this instant! Malfoy!"
For the first time since she had known him, he did not reply to her. Instead he just began to walk, his eyes no longer fixed on her but on the vast forest burning down around them as he began to carry her out of it. Hermione found that she had no way to prevent this so only continued to glower at him, stuck in his arms and hating every second of it.
Although he was so cold and strong…
No, she definitely hated him even more now, more than she ever had.
It was several minutes before she could find the will to speak to him again, push back her feelings of loathing.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Away from the battle," was his curt response, and her scowl deepened.
"Why?"
"Because Granger, you would have died in the state you're in, just laying there waiting for a death eater to come!"
"And why is that your concern?"
They were nearly out of the forest, the fire, the ash, the screams far behind them in what felt to be another universe, a universe she should have just died in. She felt feeling begin to stir in her limbs and knew that the spell would soon be wearing off, and that soon she'd be showing Malfoy just how grateful she was. She still couldn't figure out his intentions, and hated him more and more and more for it. Was he taking her to Voldemort? Was he going to throw her in a ditch somewhere, alone and helpless, and leave her to slowly die? If that was the case, she was grateful the spell was wearing off!
They had just broken the line of trees that led into the forest when she thrashed her arms out, startling the boy carrying her into dropping her. Falling to the ground with a slight hiss of pain, Hermione forced her body to start working, trying to stand on shaky legs that were still recovering to run back into the forest, the battle.
She was back about to reenter the forest when his cold hand grabbed her again, and blindly she lashed out, faintly hearing his moan of pain before she was thrust back into his hard chest, his arms of cold steel wrapping around her and keeping her still in the most frustrating manner. Pressed against Draco Malfoy, Hermione was forced to just slump back against his chest in defeat.
"Damn Granger, you know how to kick a man!" She heard him mutter in her ear, and managed a tiny smirk.
"No Malfoy, I actually don't; I just know how to kick a jackass."
"Granger…" He growled in warning, and her smirk automatically widened as his arms tightened threatening around her. "Don't forget that I hold your life in my hands."
"That's a funny thing, actually; exactly why do you hold my life in your hands? Why bother with it at all?"
"Because….Dammit Granger, I had too!"
"You had too?!"
She managed to turn around in his arms, for the first time noticing how close he was as his hot breath fanned across her face, scorching her. And her glare intensified.
"And why exactly did you have to, Malfoy!"
He stared at her for a moment, his hands still pinning her arms to her sides. She watched as those dark eyes of his flickered at her, his face fell into an expression of distinct awkwardness, and felt some of her hate turn into the damn curiosity she found so hard to restrain, her expression softening at the struggle she saw play out on his fair features.
"Malfoy, it's a simple question; why did you save me? Why didn't you just leave me for dead…?"
He inhaled sharply and those intense eyes of his were boring into her, devouring her form the outside in as so many flashes went through them, making her dizzy, hot, confused, mindless…
"Granger, isn't it obvious?" His lips pulled up into a small smile—an expression she had never seen on his face—and she wondered if she had died all the way back there in the forest surrounded by flames, and was stuck in this universe, this place where she was… She was still…
"I want you to live."
She was still alive. The rush hit her, the emotions crumbled down upon her. In that instant Hermione Granger reached out to the man who had always been her enemy and embraced him, too lost, too overcome to care, to even think. The deaths, the ashes, the flames… His back was warm, his hands were cold as they hesitantly wrapped around her waist, held her to him. The screams, the scent of smoke, Fred's lifeless eyes, the impact of the spell, helpless, defenseless, waiting for death…
"I'm alive…I'm alive…"
Under her breath the realization became a mantra, and she was drowning in it, the feel of this person she was embracing, the feel of their breath, their racing heart…
Alive…
"D-Draco…"
She looked up to her savior with eyes shadowed in tears, and saw them reflected in his cool eyes, eyes that took away the sting, an ice pack to the throbbing wound. The final battle, the war, one last shot to fulfill her dream, to get at least one thing she had always wanted…
"Malfoy, make me feel like I'm alive."
And in a heartbeat their lips had connected, and Hermione no longer saw the fire, heard the screams as she leaned farther into him, life, into all she could have never had. There was no longer a war, and he was no longer the enemy, and there were no sides, no place for right and wrong. The taste of blood and smoke in her mouth was replaced with his cool taste, a breath of fresh air in the middle of ashes, and the taste of water after going for so long dehydrated.
Alive her heart pounded with his, and they were breathing into each other, and knowledge was gone, arrogance died like all the others, falling into the magic stream of red and green, the killing curse for Hermione Granger in Draco Malfoy's mouth. There were only heartbeats and silence, tears and thoughtless minds.
They broke apart only to cling to each other, an oasis of liveliness in the sea of pain, forgotten far away from the battle, a thriving spot of life that they hoped would never be found. Hermione rested against his chest in so many feelings, waiting for the day to break, the smoke to clear, with Draco's heart beating under her ear, a reminder that she had one of her own, beating, beating so lively in her chest despite the wounds it had been inflicted with, despite the pain, the screams, the deaths…
Holding each other, alive…
And the smoke never cleared.
Wow, I can't believe I just randomly wrote this all! Sorry if you hated it, I've never written a Harry Potter story so this was an experience! I tried to make it as less confusing as possible but you know, it was a spur of the moment thing without much thought so…Here it is! Feel free to leave a review if you want and sorry if it was OOC and there are a lot of grammar mistakes! Thanks for reading!