A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. That right belongs to J.K. Rowling.
It was the coldest night of the year,
Snow-covered street lamps and Belvedere,
The moon was just a sliver,
The light was fading,
The war was on its way,
And we were waiting.
Hermione could see her breath as she waited outside. Her body heat was quickly being stolen by the chill in the air. Beside her, Draco shook with anticipation. Everything would end… tonight.
You asked me how long I'd stay by your side,
So I answered with only just one reply.
She held his hand and she found his were colder than hers. Even so, her touch calmed him to an extent. Five years serving a monster had hardened him to almost any move of love. Almost.
Till the casket drops,
Till my dying day,
Till my heartbeat stops,
Till my legs just break.
She could hear the feet of men and women, if they could be classified as such. They were as soulless as the thing they served. This wasn't how she imagined it in the beginning. She always thought it would be Harry to face the Dark Lord, not her and Draco. But now there wasn't much of a choice. Halloween had been the ultimate night of evil, taking him across the Veil.
A house made out of glass will surely shatter,
So we built a fortress of red bricks and ladders,
The ground, it started shaking,
The bombs are falling,
We could've walked away,
We had a warning.
Hermione and Draco had their chance to run after Harry had gone and before that when Dumbledore went. But they stayed to accept what they had coming to them. Now that it was so close, they nearly wished they had run when they could.
So lay your burden down, baby,
Lead me out the door,
We can't escape this ricochet,
I'm ready for this war.
A pale figure appeared at the top of the hill. He smiled evilly when he spotted the two traitors in front of him. Slowly, he raised his wand. Draco held Hermione's hand tighter and they both closed their eyes, bracing themselves for anything. Hermione's hand slipped from his as she fell.
So lay your burden down, baby,
Lead me out the door,
We can't escape this ricochet,
I'm ready for this war.
Draco put her head in his lap and stroked her hair, tears forming, but refusing to let them fall. Her teeth were clenched together- she didn't want Moldy to have the satisfaction of hearing her scream. She looked up at Draco and put her hand on his cheek. A green light closed around her body and her eyes drifted closed.
Till the casket drops,
Till my dying day,
Till my heartbeat stops,
Till my legs just break.
He didn't move for another second. His anger was building and his sadness quickly changed into anger. Carefully, he set her hand down and stood, facing Voldemort. He reached for his wand as Voldemort pointed his wand at his chest. When it came into view, another green shot came from his wand and hit him in directly above his heart. Draco fell next to Hermione and he grabbed her hand, closing his own eyes.
Till the casket drops.