Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours either, unless you're JKR. :)
Summary: In the midst of a battle between good and evil, help arrives from one of the most unexpected people.
A/N: I cannot say how happy I was to see the overwhelming (for me, at least) response for Tangled Hair and Prefect Badge. It was so encouraging and I must say that I promise to try and write a sequal (in the form of a one-shot). But currently I have no ideas for a sequal, so here's another one-shot that's more drama-rama. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, I love you all! For anyone who cares (and i sure hope some of you care) I'm working on two DHr chaptered fics, see my profile to learn more.
As for this story, I was planning to write and post this up yesterday, but my evil laptop died on me. The keyboard just stopped working. :( So I handwrote this story out and now I'm using my mom's ancient laptop to post this up. :) I've been playing with this idea for while, a war setting and reformed Draco. Plus, there's a kiss, which I cannot write from experience because fourteen-year-old me has not had her frist kiss yet. So, I'm not sure I managed to pull it off (fluff, not drama, as you probably know, is more my kind of thing) so please R&R, but be nice:)
A War of Trust
The war roared around them, spells filling the air. Green light sparkled, marking the numerous deaths on both sides of the war, while shrieks of terror only spoke of the horrors of battle. Blood was splattered all over the ground, and it was impossible to move without stepping over a dead body. Everyone had a purpose, to fight for their army, and they would defend that purpose even if it meant death. Aurors led the battle for the Light bravely, fighting against the Death Eaters, but lives were lost all the same, on both sides. No one would win that terrible war, because there were to be an equal number of deaths on both sides, an equal amount of devastation, and an infinite depth of depression that the survivors would be forced to live through.
Yet amongst all the warring, time seemed to stand still for two lonely individuals.
"Kill me," Hermione spat disdainfully. "Kill me!" she shrieked, throwing herself forward to meet the wand that was pointed at her throat. Draco stepped backwards as she did so, holding his wand before him, pointed at Hermione. "I don't need mercy from you, Malfoy!" she launched herself at him, collapsing in his arms as the sound of an explosion roared through the air. The tears from her eyes mixed with the blood on her face, blood that belonged to herself, her friends, and her enemies.
Draco pushed her off him. "Shut up!" he demanded, gripping her shoulder tightly. "This is no time to be throwing a tantrum, Granger!" He lowered his wand, still holding on to her. "Listen to me," Draco began in a hushed voice, but Hermione wrenched herself from his grip, yanking Draco's sleeve up to reveal the obscene black mark on the inside of his wrist.
The Dark Mark.
It was common knowledge to everyone to the good side of the war that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater, and a high-ranking one at that. Yet actually seeing the grotesque mark on his arm was a wholly different matter, and Hermione dropped his arm slowly. It stung her to look at it, the skull and snake that had been the reason for so many deaths all over the country. It stung even more that the mark was on the arm of someone she knew, that anyone she knew could be so terribly stupid, to accept the mark of evil.
Hermione looked into Draco's grey eyes. "I don't make it a habit to trust Death Eaters," she hissed, moving her face forward so that their noses almost touched. The anger in her eyes was clear to Draco, and it pained him to think of how much she hated him. "You're nothing but a murderer, Malfoy," she whispered, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. Dumbledore's death had hit her as strongly as it had hit Harry, and because, unlike Harry, she hadn't witnessed Draco's hesitation, Hermione blamed him wholly. Even if he hadn't killed Dumbledore personally, he was still the cause of the accident on the Astronomy Tower. Truth be told, Draco blamed himself too. Accepting the mission to kill Dumbledore was one of the daftest decisions in his life – second only to accepting the Dark Mark. He had never forgiven himself for agreeing, nor Snape for doing the actual deed, even if it was only because of the Unbreakable Vow with his mother. Draco wanted to change sides – he wanted a chance to make up for all the bad things he had done. But redemption didn't come easily, and Draco knew it. He had to work to be forgiven, though he suspected he would never receive that, not from anyone else, and not from himself.
Another explosion rang through the air ominously and Hermione jumped away from Draco. "You're distracting me!" she shouted. "You're stopping me from returning to the battle!" Hermione tried to push past Draco, but he grabbed her elbow and turned her to face him.
"Listen to me!" he snapped agitatedly. "I'm only trying to help!"
"Help? Since when have you tried to help?" Hermione tried to tear her arm away from Draco, but he didn't let go.
As she struggled, Draco pulled her closer and hissed in her ear, "You need to get out of here now. Get your side all out of here." But before Hermione could reply, a jet of green light shot towards them from behind Hermione. "Watch out!" Draco warned, grabbing Hermione by the shoulders and pushing her to the ground. They lay amongst the blood and dirt, as tears began to fall down her cheeks. Soon she was shaking uncontrollably, and had her arms wrapped around Draco before long. The thought of death struck her more vividly as she fell backwards into the ground, and the terror racked her very soul.
"You saved me," she mumbled between tears, choking on her sobs. Breathless, she let go of Draco, flopping into the ruby-coloured mud, allowing it to mingle with her honey-brown locks, staining them with the signs of death and destruction. Draco made no response, only grabbing her by the wrist, pulling her to her feet and behind a tree. "You saved me," Hermione repeated, not bothering to wipe away the dirt, tears and blood that marred her face. Even if they could be cleaned away, the horrors of war would remain with her forever.
"Listen, Granger!" Draco shouted, tilting her chin to him forcefully. "You need to go! Leave! Bring all your people out of this place immediately!"
It took a second for Draco's words to register with Hermione, but when they did, Hermione shrank away from Draco accusingly. "I knew it! This is some…scheme, isn't it? A scheme to get us to retreat! You're lying!" Hermione tried again to run out into the heart of the battle, but Draco yanked her back, his arm folded across her neck. Her back was pressed against his chest, and Draco leant his nose into her hair, dirty as it was, for a second. A second was all he could spare when there was a war raging on in the distance.
He could feel her body begin to tremble again, and knew she was crying. Hermione hated that she was crying in front of Draco Malfoy, of all people, but it felt so good to cry. She hadn't shed a single tear after Dumbledore's funeral, willing herself to be strong to continue fighting for his memory. But now…now she was weeping like a baby, all because of Draco.
Hermione could feel Draco's breath in her ear. "He's completed the army of Inferi," Draco whispered, glancing around them for signs of any people listening in. No one was, for everybody was too engrossed in the fighting. "They're coming, now. You need to get out of here. There're too many of them to defeat without any prior knowledge."
"Then what would running away do to help?" Hermione asked, prying herself away from Draco, but not turning to face him. "That's the cowardly way out!"
Exasperation flashed in Draco's stormy grey eyes, and he spun Hermione around to face him. "We don't have much time, Granger! Stop interrupting so I can finish!" Draco fished into his robes, producing a stack of parchment, tied together with a piece of cotton twine. "I've snuck into Father's study. These are the plans for the Inferi army. I'm sure there'll be a way to defeat them, besides the Killing Curse, since they're dead already." He shoved them at Hermione, who took them but stared blankly at Draco. "Hide them, Granger. Top secret documents are top secret for a reason!"
Blinking out of her trance, Hermione stuffed the stack of papers into the pocket of her robes, before glancing to Draco warily. "How do I know this isn't a spying device? How do I know you're not lying? How can I trust you?" Hermione asked, searching deep into Draco's eyes for an answer, a hint as to whether he was telling the truth. But Draco had become too accustomed to compartmentalizing his emotions, and his eyes showed her nothing.
Draco touched her cheek gently, and Hermione was surprised at his touch. "Trust me, please," he whispered, stepping closer so he was looking into her bright brown eyes. Eyes that used to be full of life, but were now lifeless from having witnessed so many deaths. "Trust me once." He ran his finger over her lip, wiping away the traces of blood there. Hermione shivered gently, peering into Draco's eyes, where a whirlwind of emotion swirled dangerously. A spark of something stood out amongst all the hate in those silvery-grey orbs, a spark of something redeemable within his bleak heart.
There was a glimmer in his eye, and Hermione almost gasped as she saw the tear roll down his cheek. It made its way down his pale but dirtied skin meaningfully, and that single drop spoke a thousand words to her. Not really knowing what she was doing, Hermione stood up on tip-toe, leaning forward to kiss Draco's cheek. The tear disappeared as her lips touched it, and that very instant, so much emotion coursed through the two of them that Draco circled his arms around Hermione waist, pulling her towards him. Hermione leant into Draco's shoulder, a comforting haven in the midst of the battle, momentarily forgetting about everything else.
"I trust –"
But before she could continue her sentence, Draco had covered her lips with his. Desire overtook them, and Hermione snaked her arms around Draco, leaning into his body, grasping at the only tangible thing in the abstract world of power and prejudice. They were running purely on their instinct, doing what they wanted to without a care in the world. Draco let out a deep growl, and Hermione pushed herself up against him, causing all of Draco's senses to spark. He tangled his fingers in her bloodied hair, his hands roving across the bare skin on the back of her neck. Following his example, Hermione ran her fingers through his smooth hair that was matted slightly but sexily, wrenching her fingers through them.
They parted briefly to look intently at each other, probably the last glance they would ever have. "I trust you," Hermione whispered hoarsely, and Draco pulled her back to him. Their lips met in a fury of passion, wild and uncontrollable. Blood and tears mingled in the kiss, an exciting tang of saltiness amongst the spice of excitement and pure lust that drove them.
A deafening explosion shook the ground, and they jumped apart. Draco pulled away from Hermione, who was begging, pleading with him not to return to the darkness, to the wrong side of the war. Her pleas were ignored as Draco turned away from her, running back into the war.
Hermione felt her tears sting her eyes even more, when Draco angled his head backwards to glance at her. He mouthed something that looked distinctly like 'stay safe' and Hermione had to choke back a sob. Covering her mouth to stop the sounds of her distressed crying reaching him, she nodded mutely, while Draco disappeared into the crowd of people, spells and blood. Hermione watched his retreating figure as her hand reached into her pocket and gripped the stack of parchment tightly. She hadn't read it, but she would tell Harry to bring the army back.
Because she trusted him.
Well, how did you find it? I decided to leave the ending at that, what happens after is completely up to your imagination. Was it okay? R&R please, and I will send you a hug through cyberspace!
