Hey, here's another story I began writing a while back so I thought I'd start posting it (I'll probably continue the other one at some point but I don't like its style)

As Harry tried unsuccessfully to snatch the wands from Draco's grasp, Draco looked up and saw the angry and scared faces of his family focused on the Golden Trio and the house elf. He knew, as his father threw a strong hex towards them, that they had to escape. If they didn't escape, then nobody could stop the Dark Lord. And if nobody stopped the Dark Lord -

He didn't want to think about it.

While Lucius and Bellatrix were distracted by the house elf, Dobby, Draco rushed towards them and thrust two wands at them, keeping his own, of course.

"You need to get out of here, Potter!" Draco hissed, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his father didn't think he was helping them.

"What?" Weasley growled angrily. He was holding up an unconscious Hermione Granger, who had the word 'Mudblood' carved into her arm and a slit across her throat.

"Get out of here, I said!" Draco repeated. "If you don't get out of here and stop him, nobody will. Go!"

Harry stared at Draco for a moment, which in reality, was a millisecond, before nodding and shouting to Dobby. But whilst Draco's head was turned, Harry snatched his wand from his hand and said, "I appreciate this, Malfoy, but I don't have a wand - and I need one more than you."

Harry believed that in reality, Draco was just a scared little boy born into the wrong family at the wrong time. In fact, if Draco had not been a Malfoy, Harry would bet that he'd actually be a nice guy. But years of power and prejudice had forced him to become something he was not. Harry hoped Malfoy would survive the war; once he was free, Harry could almost imagine becoming friendly with him - if he wasn't just a complete and utter arse, that is.

Draco stood up and backed away, horrified at being separated from his wand. Granger's eyes opened at the sound of his footsteps, her breathing heavy and difficult. Her eyes met his, and she groaned. The elder Malfoy heard her from across the room.

"Draco?" snapped Lucius, spinning to face his son. "What are you doing over there?"

Realisation dawned on the elder Malfoy's gaunt face as his steely eyes flickered between the wands in the trio's hands and his son.

"You - what have you done? You gave them wands?" he hissed. "How could you let this happen? You fool!"

Draco shook his blonde head frantically, backing away from his father, who had Narcissa's wand outstretched in his hand. "No, it's not what it looks like, Father, Potter took my wand -"

"Have you any idea what the Dark Lord will do to us once he finds out? Your failure last year has already set us at the bottom of the pile. Anything else and who knows what he could do to us? Get the wands back. Get them back now!"

Draco looked pained; he couldn't disobey his father, and yet he really, really didn't want to obey him. "Father, I -"

"Get them! Now!" Lucius yelled coldly. "Or I shall be forced to do something I will regret."

Hermione was waking up more each second, her eyes focusing on the scene unfolding in front of her, her heart hammering in her chest, silently begging Draco not to do as Lucius told them. Bellatrix's feet could be seen sticking out from underneath Dobby's smashed chandelier and Narcissa was beside herself next to it; she could do nothing without her wand.

The trio were waiting for Dobby to return to take them to Shell Cottage after he had to momentarily Apparate out of Lucius' clutches.

Hermione could see Draco's indecision, his discomfort, and that was shown through his stillness - he didn't move. She could see one side of his even whiter than normal face; it looked terrified. Please, Malfoy, she begged in her mind. Please, let us go so I can sleep. So someone can clear up my arm...The thought occurred to her that the word Mudblood might show up on her arm forever, but she shivered it away.

"Fine," sneered Lucius, his eyes narrowing. "We can see where your loyalties lie. Oh, the Dark Lord will thank me for this! I will be his favourite. Avada Kedavra!"

"No!" yelled Harry at the same time, realisation dawning upon his face.

The moment seemed to slow down to a millionth of its natural speed. As the jet of green light erupted from Lucius' wand, Dobby appeared behind Harry, Ron and Hermione with a crack that could not be heard over the roar of the spell. The light hit Draco in the stomach with such force that he was thrown backwards onto the ground, sliding backwards only to still in front of the trio.

Hermione screamed, tears blurring in her eyes. Draco's head was thrown back, his face filling her vision. His eyes were filled with tears, but the look upon his face made Hermione cry.

He had the look of someone who knew their time was up. He looked defeated. He looked like someone who cried themselves to sleep at night, who wished nothing more to be a completely different person.

It was then that Hermione realised, as she was being Apparated away, that Draco Malfoy was no less that human. She had never stopped to think of what his life had become, surrounded by Voldemort and his followers, because of all the hateful things he said to her. Harry was right; he was just a scared little boy. And he would be that little boy no more.

Draco Malfoy was dead.

As Hermione lay in a rather tiny bed in Shell Cottage, her mind was racing.

At any other point in her life, she would say the death of Draco Malfoy, her childhood bully and tormentor, would bring her some kind of relief. Sure, she still hated his guts, but that look, the last look upon his face, that would haunt her forever.

They were all so young. So young to be fighting in this war. Innocent, and not so innocent, lives were being lost. Death was a constant fear, a bad smell hanging in the air, and to see it so first hand had shocked Hermione into a silence not even Ron could break her from.

Maybe it would have all been different if Tom Riddle had not been introduced to the magical world. Maybe the Slytherins wouldn't be so hostile and unfriendly to the other houses; maybe there would be the inter-house unity that Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore had wanted so badly. Hermione's eyes teared up again as she thought about her old Headmaster. She missed his wisdom, his cleverness, his wit.

It was then she realised she might not make it to the end of this war; who was to know when it would end? It could be years, decades until the end. She knew she certainly wouldn't survive that long - and neither would the wizarding world. She had to be prepared. She had to prepare herself to die, to join Dumbledore, and the other Muggle and magical people who had died at the hands of the Death Eaters.

"I'm ready," she whispered. "I can do this."

Reviewwwww and the next chapter will be up soon. Also the next chapters are considerably longer. my first chapters always seem to be short