So I'm currently working on the third chapter in Electiones Nos, but I saw this stunning Dramione video and had to make a one-shot about it. The video is Draco&Hermione-Only Human by criistinaa94 on youtube. Go watch it, and bring tissues.
Disclaimer: I do not own the video that inspired this or any of the characters.
Hermione stumbled down the stairs, nearly tripping over a bit of rubble. Where are you Draco? she thought, her eyes searching frantically for that familiar white-blond hair, the trademark black suit, the-her breath caught in her throat. There, at the bottom of the staircase, stood Draco, frozen as he met her eyes. She skidded down the stairs, hurrying to get to him before he slipped off into the crowd of people screaming and fighting. Again.
She stood in front of him, biting her lip to keep from breaking down. His expression was blank, then all of a sudden so full of emotion. That expression had been on his face only once before, months ago.
"You want us to protect you?" Lupin said with a twinge of disbelief. Draco sat in front of them, his face devoid of any emotion.
"Yes," he answered.
"Why?" It was this that broke him. His cool expressionless mask cracked, leaving a broken little boy sitting in front of the Order.
"He's trying to kill me," he whispered.
"Why?" Lupin asked again, this time more gently.
"I failed him,"
"And what will you give us in return?" he looked up, his eyes meeting with Hermione's.
"Everything,"
"I'll go with you," she choked out. She would do anything to take that look off his face.
"No!" she was taken aback. "Don't you understand? I have to do this," tears started rolling down her face as he looked at her. A second, one beautifully broken second where the battle raged on around them, but it didn't matter because he was looking straight into her eyes the way that only he could. Then it was broken because he stepped back, one step two step three-and he was gone, merging into the crowd.
She let out a sob, collapsing on the stairs, memories running in her head in quick flashes, gone before she could fully think.
"So tell me again," Hermione leaned against the table. "Why exactly is Voldemort trying to kill you?" Malfoy didn't look up at her, instead staring down at the tabletop.
"I failed him," she did not answer, prodding him to go on. "I did not complete my mission. I am a failure," this last statement made her breath hitch. She went to stand beside Draco, waiting to speak until he looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes.
"You are not a failure for not killing someone," he snorted.
"Yeah? Tell that to Him,"
"I think you're very brave," she whispered. He looked up in shock.
"You have to pick a side eventually Draco!" her hands were balled into fists by her side.
"I already have Granger! Am I not doing anything and everything you people ask of me?" he stepped closer, towering over her.
"Your heart's not in it!" he gave a bitter laugh.
"Oh yes, very easy for you to say! You're muggleborn, you can't go to the other side! The choice was already made for you!"
"I am not on this side because of my blood status!" she fell quiet, taking deep breaths.
"Tell me Granger, then why are you on this side?" he said, his voice lowering. She looked up at him.
"Because I need to protect the people I care about," she said. He smiled bitterly.
"See, that's the problem. I don't care about anyone," she stepped towards him, her face practically in his chest now.
"That's not true,"
"It is,"
"It can't be,"
"It is Granger!" they fell silent. A minute passed by. He sighed. "No, it's not,"
"Who do you care about Draco?"
"My parents. My mother especially. My parents and…"
"And?" she prodded.
"And you,"
"He's been searching for me," Hermione looked up to see Draco standing beside her, staring straight ahead.
"He wants to…" she could not finish it. Somehow, in the past few months, Draco had become someone of great importance to her. Their late-night talks about books. Arguing about the myth of the thirteenth use of dragon's blood. Talking about their parents. She felt connected to him in a way she couldn't explain.
"Kill me," he finished.
"You've done so much for the cause Draco, the Order wouldn't let that-"
"The Order will do what's best for the Order Hermione. They don't concern themselves about me," he interrupted. She grabbed his arm.
"Then I won't let that happen," she whispered. He smiled sadly.
"That conflicts with my own personal promise,"
"Which is what?"
"That I wouldn't let anything happen to you,"
"Draco!" she squealed, hitting him on the arm as she laughed at his previous hilarious (but completely inappropriate) statement. He grinned. They both fell silent. For reasons unknown to her, Hermione could not take her eyes off him. Namely, his lips. Soft and slightly parting, turned slightly upward in an almost-smirk. Strange, he seemed the be just as focused on hers.
"Hermione," she leaned closer to him.
"Hmm?" she said, still focused on his pink, soft lips.
"I'm going to kiss you," no sooner had he informed her that he placed his hands on the side of her face, coming closer, his inviting-looking lips coming closer and closer until suddenly they met with hers and it was wonderful and what was she doing she shouldn't be doing this this was wrong wrong wrong but yet right and-
He pulled back, smirking slightly.
"Draco!" she grabbed his hand. He looked back.
"You're not planning on doing anything stupid, are you?"
"Of course not," his words made her chest ache.
"You're lying to me,"
"Hermione-"
"No. No excuses. We are both coming out of this Battle unharmed, alright? And then we'll live afterwards and be able to live normal lives with each other, do you understand me?" he voice wavered. "No exceptions!" He leaned down towards her.
"Hermione," he choked out painfully, kissing her. It was an amazing kiss, it could have gone on forever. But it didn't. As his lips left hers she opened her eyes, only to find he had slipped away into the panicked crowd. She covered her mouth with her hands to muffle her scream. She knew what that kiss meant. Goodbye.
Draco ran, slipping on puddles of blood and slamming violently against the walls of the castle. But he kept on running, because stopping meant a certain death. Stopping meant torture and pain and he had to keep on going because Hermione wanted him to and she smelled like cinnamon and when she laughed it made him feel this funny little thing inside-
"Come on Draco! Let's play!" he grimaced as he heard the cackling of his deranged Aunt. "You can't run forever! The Dark Lord wants little Drakey-wakey!" she shot spell after spell, all hitting around him and making clumps of architecture rain down around him. He was so tired; he wanted so badly to just stop running and-
No. You can't. Hermione wouldn't like it. He knew he was going to die. But he would not die after being tortured by this psycho, he would not. So he kept on running.
Harry was dead. Hermione gripped Ron's arm to steady herself. Harry was dead and not coming back. Dead dead dead. It wasn't right, this wasn't suppose to happen. This couldn't happen, her world could not fall apart like this, everyone she loved dying as she stood there, helpless to do anything.
"Draco," Voldemort stepped forward. Hermione turned around to see Draco, bruised and battered butalive and that was really all that mattered because he was still alive and there, just a few feet away and so so close she could almost touch him and no no no what was he doing? To her horror, Draco looked around at the students surrounding him, then took a step forward. Another step. And another. And he was walking towards a leering Voldemort and Hermione choked out a sob and gripped a horrified-looking Ron's arm as she watched.
Voldemort held up his wand. Draco lifted his chin, closing his eyes. Hermione felt her knees buckling beneath her as hands shot out to steady her.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" and a green light shot from Voldemort's wand and hit Draco square in the chest and he crumpled as his mother let out a scream and fell to the ground.
"NO!" He was still alive, still alive she told herself, even though in her heart she could feel he wasn't because suddenly there was a big empty spot inside like her chest had been ripped out and her legs gave way and hands-hands of Order members that should have protected him-supported her.
But it didn't matter, because he was gone.
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