A/n :- Written as entry no. 5 for Mockingjaybird's The Dark Things Competition. My word was Death.

THE LIGHT OF THE DARK

The only reason death sticks so closely to life isn't biological necessity, it's envy.

~ Yan Martel - Life of Pi.

Hermione stirred as she felt someone lightly caress her arm. Her subconscious seemed to remind her where she was, and her eyes flew open with the speed of lightning. She relaxed however, when she saw who it was, but it took longer to calm down the frantic beating of her heart and the loud thumps of the blood flowing in her veins. She smiled up at the person responsible, and reached to intertwine her fingers with his large, cool ones.

"You scared me."

"I should scare you."

"But you don't. "

He didn't reply to this, sitting up and turning his back to her, staring away pensively into nothing. She was used to his detached behaviour, but that didn't mean she tried any less to get him to open up to her.

She slided further across the small bed and put her arm on his shoulders, which at first, stiffened under her sudden touch, and then relaxed. "Why do you think I should be afraid of you?" she asked, after a moments hesitation.

He let out a sharp breathy laugh, which sounded nothing more than incredulous, before turning his head to look at her. "Have you forgotten what I am?"

"No. I remember. You're Draco Malfoy. Age 25. Son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Grandson of Abraxas and - "

"I wasn't talking about my identity, Granger."

"Then who are you?"

"I said what, not who. I am a Death Eater, the bad guy. I belong to the group who will feel no remorse in ripping you open and torturing you. I am a part of the people who will do anything to kill your best friend, and maim any who stand in between. I am a part of death, Granger."

She didn't know what to say to this. She knew that he thought himself to be one of them. He was. But he was still so different. So human.

"You are not them, Draco. You are much better. You are hope. Hope, that despite being a part of them, you haven't sold your soul to them. There's life left inside of you. You are so much more. Being a Death Eater doesn't change who you are. It's not your identity. You have proved that to me. You know how scared I was when they brought me here two months ago. Alone, helpless, vulnerable. You refused to take advantage of me. You saved me. I don't know why you did it, but you protected me from Greyback and his comrades. If not for you, I would have been used as an object, and then killed. I've seen you with the other prisoners also, Draco. You aren't as heartless as the others. You have to believe this. You have to keep strong."

"I don't deserve any praise for not being as evil as they are, Granger. I might not get my kicks from torturing and killing muggles, and raping their mudbloods, but that doesn't mean my hands are clean. There's blood on them. The blood of murder."

He got up from the bed and paced around the little cell reserved for Hermione. There was a window on one wall, and Hermione knew that it had metal bars on it to prevent her escape.

"I know that you have had to... murder muggles and muggle-borns, but it was only when someone was watching. Remember that day when Dolohov called me out to watch you kill an old muggle lady? I know what you did before stabbing her with your dagger. You put a pain numbing charm on her. I'm not saying that you sacrificed yourself by refusing to stab her. I'm just saying that you relieved her pain. Not many would have done that. Especially not a Death Eater. I know why you joined their ranks, Draco. It was to protect your family.

"Not everything in life is white and black", she continued after a while. "Some are grey. You have to do a great wrong to do a little right. If anyone tells you that they would rather have sacrificed their parents than becoming a Death Eater, ask them to actually do it. I know that saying something is very easy, but doing it? Doing it is an altogether different aspect. And I think that you've done a lot for me by keeping me safe, even in Voldemort's lair."

He ran a hand through his hair, which made it stand up a bit due to static. "And what have you done, Granger? Slept with the enemy. Just because you felt the need to thank me?"

She eyed him disbelievingly, and pursed her lips together. "I can't believe you said that."

He opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it, and she could see the regret in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean it. I..." he cut off, not knowing how to justify what he had said.

"No of course you didn't," she said after a while, and her voice was hoarse, cutting through the silence like a knife.

He sighed, clasping his hands together and cracking his knuckles. "Get ready. We're going."

Her jaw dropped. Then, after a moment, her eyes lit up and she half-smiled, as if not sure whether he had said what she had heard.

"Are... are you serious? I mean we're... really going. I'm leaving? Please be serious, I -"

"Yes. I'm serious. I've contacted the Order. They're coming to take you."

"Oh my god! I'm finally going! Thank you so much, Draco!" She jumped up to kiss him. He met back, but hesitantly, as if not certain whether he should be kissing her. Her grip got firm, however, and she vigorously tried to pry open his lips with hers. Her hands snaked up his arms and wrapped closely around his neck, when he finally gave in and kissed her back with gusto. His arms wrapped around her waist, and then moved up and down her back, not knowing where they fit best. He wound her curly locks into his fist, and dipped her head back to gain better access.

They were one in that moment, a sloppy, messy moment, but they didn't care. They were two people, kissing each other, breathing in each other, nipping, sucking, biting. They fit each other perfectly, a perfect balance, perfect harmony. They pulled back with a gasp, chests heaving due to lack of air. Her cheeks were flushed, hair tousled, and lips swollen. His were the same.

"You have to come with me", she breathed out. " Please, Draco. You have to. You have to get away from this hell."

"You know I can't. You know I want to, but you know I can't. It's not that easy."

"NO! No I refuse to go without you," she screamed. "I won't go without you. How do you think I can save myself when you're left behind? You stay, I stay. You go, I go."

She put her foot down adamantly while saying this.

"It's not like that, you bloody idiot. YOU are the prisoner here. Not me. Why don't you understand that? If you stay here, you're in danger. They're getting suspicious Granger. They know something is amiss. They've figured out I'm helping you. If not that, they know that due to some unexplainable reason, I'm attached to you. I have to get you out of here before The Dark Lord gets hint of this. Now come on."

"No. I will not. Not until you promise to come with me. I don't care if I'm in danger, or if he's getting suspicious, or whatever. I just care about you. You know that. I'm not leaving without you, and I'm not changing my mind."

He inhaled in exasperation and rubbed his forehead in smooth strokes, as if relieving a headache. "Fine," he spat out. "I'll come with you. But -"

"Promise."

"I PROMISE I'll come with you Granger. Now let's get a move on. Pettigrew isn't going to be out for much longer."

"Where has he gone?"

"I've sent him to the other end of the Manor on pretense of some work Voldemort wants him to do. Since Jadson has gone to Germany for an arms deal, there's no one blocking this part of the building," he said, all the while blasting off the rail on the window with a jet of red from his wand.

"We're going through the window? "

"Obviously. That's why I blew it off. You ask the most idiotic questions Granger."

"Shut up. How are we going down? It's three storeys!"

"Look, I know you fear heights and shit but it's not like I can help it. I can't take you through the corridor because the portraits might see. As this building's guard is gone, no one will notice you through the window. And there's a ladder. We'll use that."

He went down the ladder first, and then signalled for her to come down. She did so, after a lot of hesitation, because even if the ladder failed to hold her, she knew Draco wouldn't. She gingerly came down, rung by rung, her knuckles white because of the death grip she had on the support of the ladder. When she was down, he motioned for her to follow him stealthily, looking around cautiously, lest anyone saw them. He cast a disillusionment charm on her, and led her towards the forest surrounding the building. She strugled to keep pace with his long strides, and was out of breath by the time they reached the onset of the woods. There was Yaxley sitting on a chair, and he looked as if he'd been waiting for them.

"Well, Malfoy. What brings you here?"

"I'm going on some business. The Dark Lord's business."

She inwardly grimaced at the choice of words. She hated how everyone called Voldemort The Dark Lord. He deserved no respect. But she was more worried about Yaxley. What if he found out they were planning to run? It would be the end for both of them.

"What's the hurry boy? Stay to chat for a bit. I've heard about your supreme fascination with Potter's mudblood. Taken a liking to her, eh?"

Malfoy snorted. "Hardly. She's good for purposes, though," he added with a smirk.

Yaxley responded to this with a sharp laugh. "Purposes? Why keep it all to yourself, Malfoy? Share her purpose with the rest of us too, eh lad?"

Hermione could see Draco's fist clench and just hoped he didn't say anything to disrupt their plan. He took a deep calming breath and then spat out, "What I do with my whores is none of your business, Yaxley. It would do you good to remember that. Now, let me go."

"Not so fast, Malfoy. Wand."

He paled. "Now now, Yaxley. I'm sure that won't be necessary. You and I have... an understanding, don't we?"

"Oh, do we now, Malfoy? That's funny because I don't remember any such understanding with you. Wand."

He held out his wand and breathed out in hopelessness, as Yaxley put a tracking spell on it. "Where's Dolohov?"

"He's gone to check on your mudblood." Her eyes widened at this. "Don't worry, he won't touch her," Yaxley snickered.

"Wand, Yaxley," Draco said, and she could tell he was obviously in a hurry to get out. Yaxley handed over Draco's wand and warned him, "Keep your distance from the mudblood, Malfoy."

Malfoy nodded once, and hurried off to the forest, Hermione following behind, making as little noise as she possibly could. All the while inside, her heart was going thumpthumpthump, and all she could feel was the adrenaline pumping through her veins, giving her energy and strength for fight and flight. He finally stopped when they were a good distance in, and she almost collided into him.

"Why are we stopping?" she panted out.

"Weasley is going to come get you from here."

"Us."

"What? "

"Ron is going to come and get us from here, Draco."

He said nothing, but he knew that any moment, Yaxley would receive information from Dolohov, put two and two together, and come running after them, probably with dozens of other Death Eaters in tow. He had known from the beginning that he wouldn't be leaving with her. The tracker on his wand activated the inbuilt tracker on his Dark Mark, and it would take seconds for the Death Eaters to find him. He didn't say anything to Hermione, however, because he knew how obstinate she was. Instead, he walked towards her, and wrapped his arms around her in a vice-like grip.

He heard the loud pop of apparition behind him, and knew it was Weasley. He didn't let her go though, because he knew that it was the last time he was hugging her, being able to feel her. He knotted his arms in her wild hair, breathed in her scent for as long as he could, and kissed her one last time. He finally pulled away to whisper into her ears, "I love you, Hermione."

And then, all he felt was a sense of satisfaction, as he pushed her away, into the arms of Weasley. He could see her struggling with the red-head, because she had caught on that he would not be leaving with her. He felt relieved when Weasley, frustrated with her opposition, forcefully apparated her to a safe place. And it was then that he knew, that if death came for him, he would face it, accept it, because he had confessed to the girl he loved, and that was all that mattered. Very soon, towering men in black robes had surrounded him, with frowns on their faces and wands pulled out. He fell back to the ground as a jet of green light hit him square in the chest, taking his life away. But, even in the darkness, he could see the light, as her memories played in his mind, until his very last breath.

~ Fin ~