I am not entirely sure how I feel about this - but since when have I taken that into mind before I post something? Here, I had some Dramione love to get out of my system.

This is set just before the final Battle of Hogwarts, disregarding any Ron/Hermione romance. Oh - let's just disregard everything (everything is Dramione and, uh, nothing hurts, right?)

I might add some more chapters to this, I'm not sure. Well - enjoy, hopefully!

Disclaimer: Still don't own, unfortunately. (I can dream, right?)

Malfoys did not get involved with Mudbloods.

It was wrong – so very wrong. If his father were here, Draco would be locked in the dungeon for days until he had learnt his lesson. Draco found himself surprisingly uncaring of this promised fate as he made his way to the Gryffindor wing. All he could think was – I need to get to her. I need to make sure she's safe.

She was waiting for him. He expected no less. The girl was eccentrically intelligent, with wit almost as sharp as his own. She had a way of knowing when there was danger coming. Draco shook his head in a mix of disgust and awe, as he realised just how much he'd grown to care for Hermione Granger. She looked too cold and vulnerable in her thin robe, and his fingers itched to touch her.

"Draco, what's wrong?" She was on him then. Her hands cradling his face, thumbs rubbing circles in his cold skin. He stood still, unsure whether to relax into her grasp or to shy away from her.

"Draco," Granger said again, sounding increasingly concerned.

His arm burned, and he shied away from her. His Dark Mark felt as if it were tearing him apart, inch by inch. The skin around it sizzled – and he knew it could only mean one thing.

"They're coming," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Hermione grabbed his face gently in her palms. "Who, Draco? Who's coming?"

He closed his eyes against the pain of her worried tone and the pain in his arm. "The Death Eaters," he whispered. "Hermione – you have to get away from here. You have to."

Malfoy's eyes bore into hers, his eyebrows low over grief-filled eyes. She almost felt sorry for her answer. Almost. "I can't," she told him. "I have to help Harry."

Draco turned away from her, anger boiling inside him – at her, but mainly at himself, for letting himself get so involved with her. "You know what this means, don't you?" His hands idly brushed his Dark Mark and he cringed in pain.

Hermione gasped. "No – Draco – you can't go to them! You can't!" She was sobbing now, and he felt nausea grip him. He didn't like her pain. In fact, he hated it-he'd rather anything else. But he'd been brought up to learn that family was more important than anything...

What was he supposed to do?

"I have to, Hermione. That's my family, over there."

The girl had her hand resting on her wand. "You know I can't let you go to them. I – I have to do what's right for – for us. For our side." Her eyes sparkled dangerously.

Draco's tone was icy cold. "Just try and stop me, Granger."

Hermione winced at his old nickname for her.

"Stupefy!" she yelled at his back. He was too quick. He spun around, fending off the curse.

He shot back, "Expelliarmus!"

Even then, even as she was basically turn on him, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her. She closed her eyes, as if this were physically paining her.

"Avis Oppugno!" she cried, and birds exploded from the tip of her wand. Draco stared in horror as the flock of birds flew at him, looking like they could do a fair amount of damage.

Hermione seemed to realise this foolish duelling was doing more harm than good, and called off the birds. Brandishing her wand, she pushed past Draco. "I have to warn Harry," she muttered under her breath.

"I already have," Draco blurted out.

She stared at him in shock. "What?"

He scowled at her, refusing to repeat those dreaded words.

She seemed to realise that it was fruitless, and returned to the problem at hand. "Draco, please," she begged him one last time. "Don't do this. Don't go to them. We can fix this. I'll make sure you don't go to Azkaban! I'll tell them the truth! Please, Draco." His resolve almost crumbled as her voice broke. "Please. I…I love you. You can't do this."

Draco didn't have timed to register his shock at this confession. There was a deafening crash, and screams erupted from the first floor. He began running down the corridor, away from the source of the noise, dragging Hermione behind him, urging her towards the stairs. "Leave now. I'll go with you. We can run away from this mess, Hermione. We'll never have to face the Dark Lord again."

Hermione shook her head, although her heart softened slightly at the suggestion. "I can't leave Harry," she told him. "If you – if you truly cared about me, you'd understand that!"

Draco felt the rage boil up inside him. "If I truly cared for you? If? You don't know anything," he spat at her. Raising his wand, he pointed at the cold, stone floor. "Expecto Patronum!"

A familiar shining otter exploded from his wand, scrambling past Hermione, doing a full circle, and then disappearing back into his wand. Tears sprouted from Hermione's eyes, and she reached for Draco.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear, pulling her to him. "Please don't ever doubt that."

Hermione whispered that she wouldn't, and Draco Malfoy turned away from her, running for the stairs.

She didn't follow, not this time.

"Oh, Granger?" He paused at the staircase. There was an almost vulnerable waver to his voice as he turned to meet her gaze. His Dark Mark still burned, as the Dark Lord expressed his rage at the Malfoy boy fighting his orders – but he ignored it.

This was more important.

"I...Stay safe."

She couldn't help but smile, just a little bit. "You too, Draco," she whispered.

And then he was gone.

Hermione knew that she had to find Harry, and pushed thoughts of Draco Malfoy to the back of her mind. She couldn't be constantly worrying about him - he was old enough to make his own damned decisions, and she had to respect that.

Even if they didn't involve her.

Holding her wand firmly in her hand, Hermione Granger made her brisk way down the staircase.

Why must you be so stubborn, Draco? she remembered herself questioning him one day, some day that seemed so far away, at a time much safer. One day, you're going to get yourself killed.