Author's Notes: I've finally decided to write a longer Dramione Fanfic. It's based during the Deathly Hallows, though has some flashbacks from previous years. It's following the vague plot of the books (destroying Voldemort, the War ect) but most of the parts have been edited. I'll try to update every week or so, I'm honestly lazy as anything!
With a yawn and a stretch, Hermione unzipped the tent, squinting at the sudden change in light.
She popped her head out of the entrance, inhaling the fresh air, before peering back into the tent at the two sleeping boys.
Ron was sprawled across his bed (and half of Hermione's also), somewhat resembling a starfish. Harry on the other hand was curled up in a ball, only his wild black hair visible from the duvet he was entangled within.
Hermione rolled her eyes at the sight. Typical boys. She crept back to her bed, perching on the edge. Grabbing Ron's arm, she shook him gently in order to attempt to wake him up from his tranquil state. She was granted with no such mercy as she sighed in defeat, shaking him a lot more roughly. Ron opened one eye, before sitting up in his bed and stretching and almost hitting Hermione straight in the face.
She let out a quick squeak as she dived out of the way of his fist, apparently alerting Ron of her presence. His eyes widened as he pulled his duvet over his bare chest.
"Bloody Hell 'Mione!" he grumbled, flushing a deep shade of scarlet.
Hermione shook her head, trying to hide her smirk. "Good Morning to you too, Ronald!" she replied curtly as Ron attempted to tame his wild ginger hair which was currently sticking up at all angles.
Her eyes quickly darted to his healing arm. Memories flashing back to the events in the Ministry of Magic, she shuddered. "How's your arm?" she asked, glancing down at the locket hanging upon her neck.
Ron shrugged. "Not bad, I've been better," he admitted with a slight blush. She smiled in response, running her fingers over the wound.
"I must admit," she began, though stopped to chuckle. "Mrs. Cattermole's face yesterday when the Polyjuice Potion wore off, oh Merlin, what a sight!" Ron wrinkled his nose up as Hermione leant backwards, laughter erupting from her. Realising she wasn't going to stop anytime soon, Ron sighed loudly.
"Oh come on, it wasn't that funny!" he protested. Hermione raised an eyebrow, trying to keep her facial expression as neutral as possible.
Stifling a giggle, Hermione brought her attention back to Harry who was snoring lightly. She clambered to her feet, creeping over in the direction of the raven-haired boy, before swiftly pulling the duvet off his bed and onto the floor. Unluckily for him, he was tangled within the material, and Hermione's actions caused him to plummet straight towards the ground too.
Harry grabbed his glasses which were resting on top of his bag, his hair in a similar state to Ron's. After clambering back into his bed and putting his glasses on, his vision adjusted and he cursed under his breath as he spotted Hermione trying her very hardest not to burst into laughter. Twigging on to the fact that she was the one who woke him, he groaned, placing a hand on his forehead as he fell back into his pillow.
"Good Morning Harry!" Hermione grinned, as Harry responded with a grunt. Shrugging, she tied up the laces to her shoes, before fumbling around in her bag for a packet of Bertie Bott's All Flavoured Beans. She clamped her fingers on the box, before taking it out of the bag and opening it with a small rip. Delving her hand into the packet, she popped a light green coloured bean into her mouth. After a couple of bites, her entire face wrinkled in dissatisfaction, as she swallowed, much to her blatant discomfort.
"Eurgh!" she exclaimed loudly, as the boys looked at her in both confusion and amusement. "That tasted like cardboard!"
Harry tried to prevent the grin tugging at his lips. "How would you know what cardboard tastes like, 'Mione?" he asked, fluttering his eyelashes as she scowled in response.
She offered the packet of Beans to Ron, who took it gratefully. "Oh be quiet Harry!" she retorted.
"Do 'ya want me to wear the locket while you do the enchantments?" Harry offered, his eyes trailing to the Horcrux which the Trio had obtained in the Ministry of Magic yesterday.
Hermione unclasped the locket, quickly brushing it on her trousers before handing it to Harry. "Thanks," she smiled gratefully, before making her way to her feet. "I won't be a second, please try not to set the tent on fire?" Ron rolled his eyes, while playing with his Deluminator.
"Can't make any promises I'm afraid!" he laughed, pressing the button which caused the lanterns to burn out.
"Boys," she cursed under her breath, clambering out of the tent. Zipping up her jacket, she made her way forwards to the spot where she'd previously placed the enchantments to prevent their hiding place to have been detected. Hermione grabbed her wand from her inside pocket, raising it before she began to mutter various spells under her breath.
There was an audible rustling from a few feet away as she stopped abruptly. "No!" she gasped, balling up her fists. She placed her wand back into her pocket, begging that the few enchantments she'd done were good enough to hide her from any intruders. Her suspicions were confirmed as a group of Snatchers, accompanied by Werewolf Fenrir Greyback made their way across the forest.
Sucking in a breath, Hermione's head pounded as the group became dangerously close, their voices becoming more audible as they continued to walk in the direction of the incomplete enchantments.
"I don't see why we have to search in this stupid forest anyway, what would Muggles want to hang around in the middle of a forest in winter for?" one of the Snatchers moaned, as Scabior, their leader, socked him across the head.
"Shut up! You never know, if we find anything linked to Potter, or Potter himself, who knows what the Dark Lord will reward us with?" Scabior hissed in response.
Hermione's breath hitched as Scabior was so close, she could smell his stench.
"Oh come on, there's nothing here!" Fenrir snarled, though was silenced as Scabior brought a finger to his lips.
His nose wrinkled as Hermione swallowed. Although the voices of the group were distorted due to the wall of enchantments, she could still hear what they were saying. "Can you smell that?" he took another step towards Hermione, as she screwed her eyes shut. "No, no, no, no!" she thought to herself. One more step, and he'd have walked straight into their territory.
She had to do something; they were going to be rumbled. Hermione glanced frantically in the direction of the tent, thankful that Ron and Harry were safely inside. Harry had the Horcrux, surely they could destroy the rest without her?
Scabior was so close that she could feel his breath tickling her cheeks, causing the hairs on her neck to stand up and goose bumps to form on her arms.
Her body acting before her mind, she took a step forwards, exposing herself from the enchantments completely and narrowly avoiding stamping directly upon Scabior's toes. Her eyesight darted to the ground as she felt a Snatcher snake his arms around her shoulders. It was as if she'd forgotten how to breathe.
"Well, well, well, look what we have here! Hello Beautiful!" Scabior laughed, his smile bloodthirsty as Hermione attempted to find a spot to look at. Failing completely, she exhaled, glaring straight into his eyes. "And what do they call you, my lovely?"
"P-Penelope Clearwater," she stammered, attempting to regain her composure. He took some kind of notepad from his pocket, scanning it for her name with his finger. Clearly spotting it, he placed the tattered book back into his pocket in defeat. He was about to turn away, when his fingers clamped on a sheet of folded paper also in his breast pocket.
A smirk crawling upon his face, he took it out, unfolding it revealing an image of Harry, Ron and Herself. Fenrir began giggling to himself in glee as Scabior held up the photo to Hermione's face, comparing the image to reality.
"I don't think you've been telling us the truth! I think you're Hermione Granger, the Mudblood travelling with Weasley and Potter," he snarled, turning to the rest of the Snatchers. "We're not taking this one to the ministry, we're taking her to the Dark Lord."
With a sharp yank of her mousy brown lochs, a scream ripped from Hermione's throat as the Snatchers took her away, binding her arms and legs preventing her movement.
What if Harry and Ron didn't notice she was missing? What if they didn't know where to look? Scrap that, what if they took their eyes of the task and risked their lives looking for her? Surely Voldemort was a lot more important?
Thoughts ran through her mind as she racked her brains, internally writing a list of some of the confirmed Death Eaters.
Bellatrix Lestrange, Yaxley, Petter Pettigrew, Crabbe and Goyle Senior, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. And their son, Draco. Draco.
She remembered the time in her 6th year at Hogwarts. She'd just left a Prefect Meeting and had heard loud sobbing coming from one of the bathrooms. Being the curious Gryffindor she was, she went to go and investigate, and was shocked to spot Draco keeled over a sink, sobs forcing their way out of his throat.
Heavy sobbing broke Hermione away from her trance, as she turned to her left to discover the source of the noise. She felt my throat instantly clench up and her heart shatter before her as Draco leaned upon one of the nearest sinks, attempting to undo his shirt buttons, while in the process of sobbing loudly. She gasped, taking a couple of steps instinctively into the room, as Moaning Myrtle finished her protest, before Draco suddenly stopped trembling, probably discovering someone else's presence in the room.
"Draco?" Hermione whispered whispered, as he suddenly jumped, glaring into the mirror and seeing Hermione's reflection. He gasped loudly, hacking at his eyes with his shirt sleeve as he turned around to face her.
"What do you want Grang-Hermione?" He attempted to snarl, though his voice was blatantly breaking up as he spoke. Wait, where were the insults? she thought to herself.
"D-Draco, what's wrong?" she gulped, tears sliding down her face as Draco lifted his weight from the sink.
"Why should I tell you? Why would you care?" His voice dripping with emotion and defeat as it looked as if he'd break down on the spot while he gnawed his lip.
"You can trust me Draco." Hermione said strongly after a deep intake of breath, as he brought his red raw rubbed eyes level to hers.
"I-I can't fail him. You don't understand. He'll kill me!" He sobbed, taking a gracious step towards her as he began to sob loudly again. Hermione couldn't help but feel awful for him as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I was chosen!" He cried, resting his head on her shoulder as she took a sharp breath.
"Draco," she was perfectly aware that she was fairly close to breaking down also. "We can help you. There's Harry, and D-Dumbledore -" she began, as Draco lifted his head sharply.
"You don't understand Hermione, he gave me orders, a mission." He sighed, his tears trickling down Hermione's shirt as she wrapped my arms around him.
"Draco, I'm sorry, we'll get through th -" He suddenly cut her off as his eyes locked with his grey orbs. Without warning, he began to lean forwards, the gap between the two decreasing by the second with his eyes not once faltering from Hermione's deep chocolate eyes.
"I care about you Hermione, I can't risk you getting hurt for me," He whispered huskily as the distance between their faces was reduced to millimetres.
"We'll get through this Draco, I'll stand by you no matter what." Hermione swore sacredly, all bad encounters in the past between the pair completely forgotton and demolished as the newly matured Draco burned through. He grinned a weak grin, finally closing the gap between their faces as his soft lips captured Hermione's.
She couldn't prevent the small grin tugging at her lips despite the physical pain dulling through her body. Although she hadn't seen him since the episode in the bathroom, the memories still burned fresh in her mind.
She'd never seen him so broken, so alone. When Harry revealed to her and Ron what had happened on the tower, she felt a flicker of hope when she discovered that it was in fact Snape and not Draco who had killed Dumbledore. He'd apparently lowered his wand in the process, keeping his promise.
The last thing she saw was Draco's face flash before her eyes, the smile still embedded into her features as before darkness overcame her.