The Sweetest Thing
Draco opened his eyes.
The stars in the black, silken sky mixed startlingly with those already claiming his vision. Blinking a few times allowed only the real ones to remain while other shapes became discernable as well.
Tentatively, Draco brought his hand to his temple, wincing harshly at the wet, sticky feeling on his fingers. He slowly brought his reluctant body to a sitting position. Excruciating pain carved its way from his head to his stomach, causing his entire being to spasm violently. Turning to the side, he retched and sputtered until he was certain he would shrivel into nothing.
Panting and gasping, Draco staggered to his feet, doing his best to ignore the fiery pain lingering close to his ribs. He rested against a nearby tree. It was splintered and cracked, half of it still smoldering from the monsoon of spells that had ripped through the night only minutes ago.
The Second War.
Draco took a few steps, wobbling as a wave of dizziness racked his head. Continuing onward, the alabaster haired boy turned at the thick band of trees. A nightmarish scene met his sunken gaze.
Bodies sprinkled the land. The ground was saturated with blood, so much of it, he could almost hear the liquid garnet hissing through the tiny blades of grass.
His pupils dilated. As it became easier to see, Draco noticed figures moving cautiously, some limping, and helping others. There was no sound. Not one scream. Not one sob. No, noises had long since stopped. Shock had settled over the lives of those still breathing. The silence itself was alarming. No one grunted in pain. Nobody cried out, praying to find a friend who hadn't left the world behind. This silence, mixed with the stench of oncoming decay was overwhelming.
Suffocating.
Beyond the wreckage of humans stood the wreckage of the castle. Draco immediately located the hole, the spot where the wall had been blown to pieces lighter than air itself, the place where Fred Weasley had succumbed. The place where Draco himself had almost fallen victim to the raging inferno that dunce Crabbe had created. All that was left was a rocky outcrop, a jagged strip of lonely crags.
Embers of disfigured, unrecognizable furniture and tapestry still cascaded down from the opening; twirling and fluttering like some sort of hellish confetti. Fire burned and crackled both inside and out, reflecting on the windows still standing. The wavy lights were beautiful and lamenting. It seemed as though Hogwarts too, was weeping for everything lost.
It was only seven years ago, that Draco Malfoy had arrived, an eager and wealthy new student, a prince ready to be king. But the spiteful Slytherin had been quickly dethroned. In all his glory, Draco had expected to be treated as royalty. The Malfoy's had always been well known. He was going to go far, be respected and admired. Instead, someone who was already all the things Malfoy wanted to be took center stage.
Harry Potter.
The Boy Who Lived.
The Chosen One.
Draco had been shunned. Pinned down under Potter's numerous successes. Only the Slytherins looked to him. He could have had the whole school. But Potter came. Potter saw. Potter defeated Voldemort.
The Second War.
Voldemort told the survivors they had an hour to lick their wounds. An hour to send Potter to him. That was five minutes ago. Potter was nowhere to be seen.
Draco continued to survey the landscape. All of this because of Mudbloods he thought.
Granger.
She was the only Muggle born he knew personally. He based all his knowledge of Mudbloods on her and what his father told him.
And all he really knew about Granger was that he was jealous of her. She was better than he was. Better at every aspect of life, except perhaps appearance. Draco couldn't help but smirk coldly at the thought of her bushy, flyaway hair and her teeth, which until fourth year, had been rather large. Then he frowned. Those were the only two things he could think of as being…average about her. He shook his head. Right now he needed to find his parents.
Sneaking away, Draco stuck along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Here and there, fires burned and collapsed trees. Twice he had to dive aside to avoid collision. Jogging lightly now that his head was clearer, the pale figure kept watch for any Death Eaters. His mother was probably worried sick, and he had no idea which part of the forest she was in.
Shadows ruled the forest. They slipped silently over rocks and weeds unseen, threatening to devour anything in their paths. Draco couldn't see a thing, apart from his own skin, now glistening with an icy, panicky sweat. Claustrophobic fear plastered itself over his lungs as things became darker. The shallow rattle of his breath even seemed to be swallowed up by the onyx ambiance. He may as well been running straight for a never-ending drop for all he knew.
Without warning, his feet hit something solid and he fell heavily to the ground. Momentarily winded, Draco dug his nails deep into the soil in effort to still the second rush of dizziness. Getting to his knees, he strained his eyes. Seeing nothing, he groped around.
Hair.
It was a person sprawled there. Judging the length of the hair, most likely a girl. "I wish I had a bloody wand," he muttered bitterly. Potter had stolen that from him too. His hand stopped on something smooth. Hope returning, Draco clutched the wand tightly.
"Lumos," he breathed. The light flared brightly, causing him to close his eyes. Once it became tolerable, Draco opened his eyes for the second time that night. He wished he hadn't.
Hermione Granger lay, twisted, broken, and bleeding, in heap of lifelessness so complete, Draco retched again.
An extensive, deep gash was etched into her side, working its way down her waist. Stale trails of tears cut through the grime covering her cheeks. Bruises gleamed horrifically around her eyes and mild scratches stretched across the rest of her once flawless skin. Her eyes were closed, her mouth locked in an eternally mute scream.
Draco wouldn't wish this death on Potter.
He hesitantly reached out and touched her hand. Her skin was still warm. It must have just happened Draco thought numbly as he blinked rapidly against a tingling sensation in his eyes. No sooner had thought this, Hermione gasped loudly, coughing and choking for air. Blood bubbled from her mouth as her eyes opened. Her hand clamped around Draco's as she began crying in pain.
I'm coming round to open the blinds
you can't hide here any longer
my god you need to rinse those puffy eyes
you can't lie still any longer
and yes they'll ask you where you've been
and you'll have to tell them, again and again
Draco had not been expecting for her to still be alive. When she began breathing, he had cried out in relief. Now he was worried that she would start screaming when she realized it was he holding her hand. However, when Hermione's eyes found him, she became quiet. She froze. Do I stay, or leave you here? "I'll go find Weasley-," he settled on after an awkward moment, but she stopped him.
"No, don't leave me alone." Her voice was so feeble; Draco involuntarily tightened his grip around her hand.
"But-,"
"I need you here."
Four words had never impacted him so strongly. No one ever needed him. He watched helplessly as another agonizing shudder shook her petite frame. Her breathing quickened and her eyes rolled.
"No! Stay with me Granger," Draco cried, crawling closer to her.
and you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day
but I promise you you'll see the sun again
and you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness
and I promise you you'll see the sun again
Hermione calmed. Tears slipped down her face. Fear was clouding her vision and she let out a faint whimper.
"I'm scared, Draco," she whispered.
Draco's sanity was dwindling. She didn't deserve this no matter what anyone said. He reached over and wiped away her tears, washing away the dirt.
"Don't be, I'm here, we'll fight this together."
Hermione smiled at his reassurance and closed her eyes. Draco resisted the urge to call out for help. He didn't want to startle the ravaged girl anymore than she already was and he didn't know for sure who would come if anyone heard. And he damn well wasn't about to leave her there alone. Instead, he mended her injuries the best he could, wishing that he had some Dittany to use on the slash along her side. She'd be okay. But Draco knew better. Miracles weren't dependable.
"Why are you helping me?" Draco jumped at the strength and suspicion in her voice. "I'm a Mudblood, remember?"
"Shh, save your breath." The truth was, he didn't know the answer to her question. He sighed when she relaxed.
He settled down crossed his legs. He stroked her hand, and kept her company in silence. Twenty minutes had passed since he found her, and nothing had changed for the better. But at least nothing had changed for the worse either. Draco turned his attention to the forest. He couldn't hear anything but the wind in the leaves and Hermione's breathing. He held her wand firmly; ready to defend them if anything attacked. He just hoped a Death Eater didn't find them first. If that happened, they'd both be dead.
Draco had begun to doze when Hermione, who was having a coughing fit, jolted him awake. She was shaking and sobbing weakly. Draco stooped and gently pulled her into his lap, holding her close in effort to quell the spasm attack.
come on take my hand
we're going for a walk, I know you can
you can wear anything, as long as it's not black
please don't mourn forever, she's not coming back
and yes they'll ask you where you've been
and you'll have to tell them, again and again
Though he didn't notice, the shadows were beginning to recede around Draco. Hermione had once again fallen silent. They listened intently, as a commotion stared, coming from the castle. Voldemort's voice rang out, high-pitched and malicious, magically magnified for everyone to hear. It was enough to wake the dead.
"You see? Harry Potter is dead!"
Hermione began shrieking and thrashing wildly, reopening the small scratches. Draco curled himself around her. She couldn't do this to herself. His blood ran cold as Voldemort continued.
"Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"
"He beat you!" Ron Weasley's voice hit the air, bringing others with it. At the familiar sound, Hermione cried out.
"Ron! Where are you? Please, help me!"
The anguish in her voice broke Draco. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in Hermione's shoulder, tears escaping slowly. Both of their bodies shook with grief, although the grief was for different reasons.
They continued listening as Neville Longbottom stood up courageously against Voldemort. They listened while he was tortured, then freed when the hundreds of hooves thudded towards the school. Chaos ensued, and it was impossible to differentiate between voices until a thunderous one rose above the rest.
"Where's Harry?" Hermione looked at Draco with wide eyes.
"Hagrid!"
The battle grew dimmer and dimmer until it was barely audible.
"They're in the castle now," Hermione said softly, "Harry's alive!" Her eyes shone and she sent a prayer of thanks. "But he's going to kill them all." She said dryly.
"Shh," Draco's voice cracked, "Please."
and you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day
but I promise you you'll see the sun again
and you're asking me why pains the only way to happiness
and I promise you you'll see the sun again
and I promise you you'll see the sun again
They held onto each other, none of them speaking, as the battle raged on. Draco reminisced over the days when it was just a normal week of lessons. No deaths. No destruction. He wished none of this were happening. He wished Hermione were okay. He wished he wasn't such a coward. All in all, Draco Malfoy wished for a new beginning that night.
"You never answered my question."
"Hmm?"
"Why are you helping me?"
Draco contemplated her. He knew the answer now.
"Because you don't deserve this, Hermione."
"You said my name," she smiled gleefully, "I always knew you would someday."
Draco couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe it's your irresistible charm," he grinned.
She lightly hit his arm. "Oh, shut up Ferret." They both chuckled, enjoying each other's company. Hermione fell asleep and Draco's hopes soared. She was an extremely strong girl.
He took to studying the castle where the war still raged. Tears invaded his vision as he thought of his fallen classmates. None of them deserved this. Hermione was fading in and out, he couldn't keep kidding himself, and it was all because of Voldemort. Draco narrowed his eyes.
"I hope Potter destroys you," he hissed.
Draco's thoughts strayed to his father. He would find him after all of this and set him straight. Hermione was a person. Muggles were people. Blood had no say in who deserved to live or die. The only thing that mattered where blood was concerned was whether or not a person had enough. And it was this reason that Draco feared for Hermione's life. He watched closely as his blood dripped onto the ground and mixed with Hermione's. The color never changed. Nothing changed. No, blood didn't matter. The heart did.
do you remember telling me you found the sweetest thing of all
you said one day of this was worth dying for
so be thankful you knew her at all
but it's no more
The sky was growing lighter still. Draco rocked Hermione back and fourth, whispering words of comfort. It was just they, alone, surrounded by problems that had no meaning and content no amount of pain could penetrate.
"I'm sorry," Draco murmured.
Brown eyes fluttered open. "What for?"
"For everything I've ever done to you…your friends," he meant every word of it.
"Oh," Hermione's dulling eyes gleamed, "I forgive you."
Relived, Draco glanced back at Hogwarts. Silence had suddenly grasped it, and he was worried. Hermione watched too, eyes fretting, hands trembling.
Cheering split the air. Victory had at last been achieved.
"Harry won," he whispered in her ear.
"Good," she mumbled. Her body relaxed in his embrace. Tears no longer flowed and her breathing no longer came in ragged pants.
Instead, she let out a pleased sigh.
"Thank you for staying with me, Draco. Tell Harry and Ron that I love them."
Draco's heart pounded. "NO! Hermione! You'll be okay, don't!"
"Goodbye, Draco."
"No, please! Don't leave me alone," he whispered, "Don't leave me."
Her eyes closed peacefully.
"You're so close," he cried softly.
She was already gone.
Kissing her cheek, Draco picked her up in his arms. Staring down at her, understanding dawned on him. Never again would he align himself with the Dark Arts. Never again would he belittle those below himself. Never again would he dare say Mudblood. Hermione Granger had just saved his life with her own.
and you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day
but I promise you you'll see the sun again
and your asking me why pains the only way to happiness
and I promise you you'll see the sun again
and I promise you you'll see the sun again
Holding her as close as possible, Draco turned. Striding from the disappearing shadows, he walked towards the golden rays of the rising sun.