Hey okay so this is my Dramione fanfic and, don't worry, I know it's not perfect but hey ho.
Please read and review.
Disclaimer; I did not (sadly) create the wonderful world of Harry Potter. All credit to JKR for the ideas of Harry Potter etc.
Hermione ducked as another spell came her way and tried to keep running. The Death Eaters were pursuing her and slowly catching up as she ran down the darkened tunnels of the dungeons. She had to get to the Great Hall to find Harry and Ron. She had lost them when Voldemort's personal army first began to break the barriers set up by the Aurors and professors. She heard the Death Eaters shouting at her, cursing her. She knew if they caught her, or even hit her with an Unforgivable, she'd be dead in minutes.
"Mudblood bitch!" one of them shouted. Hermione realised it was Yaxley and ran faster.
She cast a Protego charm around herself, finally reaching the staircase that led to the ground floor. Tears cascaded down her face and were brushed away quickly. As she made her way up the stairs Hermione heard Yaxley and his companion right behind her.
She had run from Voldemort for almost half of her life and she was getting tired of it. Hermione was sick of running; running from Voldemort, running from Death Eaters, running from her friends, running from her family. She'd lied to everyone for the past seven years and she knew she couldn't take it much longer.
She reached the ground floor and dashed to the Great Hall but to her dismay she couldn't see Ron or Harry anywhere. Hermione was getting desperate now and she saw no one that she knew. That was until there came a cry from behind her.
"Hermione!" it was Harry. "Hermione, come on!"
She turned round to see Harry battered and bloody with Yaxley unconscious at his feet. She sped towards his outstretched arms and into his embrace.
"I've been looking for you for hours, Hermione, I was worried sick," he whispered into her hair.
A wave of guilt hit the witch. She had purposely left Harry and Ron to fend for themselves in the first hours of the battle, the brunette had needed space and time to think. Think what she was going to do. Think if she was actually going to fight. Think of who she was prepared to die for. When she had cleared her mind slightly, that was when Yaxley had begun chasing her.
She didn't want to hurt Harry or Ron in the slightest, but she couldn't bear to be around them anymore. She visibly winced when one of them told her how much they loved her or how they would not have made it past first year without her. She could not take it anymore. Hermione could not deal with the fact, in the war; one of them could have been killed within an instant, ripped from life and torn from her. She did not want to have her heart shredded so she began to distance herself; telling herself that she did not care for them. She had realised a long time ago that she needed to take care of herself before she saved anyone else's life. Hermione had come to realise that she was selfish and heartless - cold to the bone, void of all caring emotion. The small bushy-haired girl was no longer her; she left that behind years ago.
"Well, you've found me now," she said weakly.
Harry released his hold on Hermione and looked at her, his emerald green eyes meeting her chocolate brown ones. "I need to find Voldemort," he said suddenly, "I need to be the one to kill him. Ron's gone to find Ginny to make sure she leaves the castle; I want you to try and find him. You fight better when you're together."
He turned on his heel and darted through the entrance hall and through the giant doors leading into the front courtyard.
A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye. The witch knew that if Harry found Voldemort; there was a eighty-five per cent chance that The Boy Who Lived would be alive no longer. Hermione did not know if she was more scared about losing Harry or the whole wizarding world being brought down to its knees by The Dark Lord.
With a slightly defeated attitude Hermione set out to find Ron. Her wand was almost cracking under her vice-like grip but she did not seem to notice. As she walked through the corridors, she noticed that most of the Death Eaters had drawn back and the remaining few were fighting numerous Aurors at once. Good, she thought, I hope they rot in Azkaban where they belong.
Flashbacks hit Hermione like a train as she made her way up to the Room of Requirement. Dumbledore's Army. Umbridge. The Inquisitorial Squad. Grawp. Firenze. Christmases with the Weasley family. Slughorn's party. She stopped in her tracks, feeling faint. Hermione knew that she'd sell her soul to the Devil for her life to be like it once was, before Voldemort became more indestructible.
She sunk down onto the floor; drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. For the first time in years Hermione began to weep. She wept for Harry, for Ron, for her parents, and for her own sad existence. She brought her wand up to her head and began to contemplate how effective a Killing Curse would be if she used it on herself. The brunette shook her head. Dropping her wand on the floor, she listened to it clatter. She could never leave Harry and Ron. They needed her. They needed her more than she needed them. She could never leave them to fend for themselves. Hermione knew she had saved them numerous times and she knew that she could not give up now, not when they need her the most.
She sat on the floor for a while, looking at her Muggle watch every minute or so. Wiping the stray tears from her face she decided to get up. But she never got the chance.
"Well, well," came a drawling voice from further down the corridor, "Looks like the Mudblood's on her own... Where's Pothead and Weasel, Granger?"
Hermione Granger turned her head slightly to see Malfoy leaning against the corridor wall with the same smirk that he had had since first year. He was alone and armed but Hermione was not scared. She would never be scared of Draco Malfoy.
She almost felt sorry for Malfoy. Almost. He had been brainwashed into a Pureblood mind-set before he could even talk. His father was a Death Eater and had ensured that his son had followed suit. Malfoy was blackmailed into the assassination of Dumbledore. He was only seventeen, just like the rest of their year, but there he was; in Voldemort's inner circle. Hermione could not help but despise him.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" she spat at him.
"Oh, I've missed you, Granger..." he said, walking towards her. "It's been no fun without you at the Manor. Do you remember when my Aunt Bellatrix tortured you? It was only a few days ago... I could have stopped that from happening, you know."
"Could you?" Hermione asked, sounding dry and bitter, "So, why didn't you?"
He crouched down next to her, brushing her wild hair out of her face and laughed as she flinched away from his touch, "I liked seeing you suffer."
Hermione spat in his face and attempted to get up and run away from her.
"Now, Granger, don't get all tetchy. I know you've missed me," she could hear the smirk in his voice, "I just thought I'd teach you a little lesson." Before she could even reach for her wand she heard Malfoy yell, "Stupefy!"
Hermione fell to the floor, and yelped as her head smacked against the stone cold ground; she immediately began to feel woozy. Before she passed out, she heard the blond wizard approach where she was lying and grabbed her feet, pulling her into the nearest empty classroom. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness and she knew she could not do anything about it.
Hermione regained consciousness half an hour later and found herself in a darkened classroom with Malfoy watching over her. His white blond hair looked silver in the dim light and his eyes were a dark grey. The wizard didn't move for a while and continued to watch her while she became aware of her surroundings.
"Finally woke, have you? It took you long enough," he sneered.
"No thanks to you," was her response.
He moved towards her noiselessly and crouched down next to her, his hair falling into his pale, pointed face. "I'm going to make you scream out in pain tonight, Granger. I will hurt you until you lose the will to live," he told her, his expression calm and complacent.
Hermione's heart sunk. She was defenceless and alone. There was no way that the witch could protect herself from Malfoy now. "Why?" she asked him, hearing the plea in her own words.
"You're the scum of the earth. Your blood is dirty," he said. "And you're something I can never have."
"What're you talking about, Malfoy? You're not making any sense."
"Oh, but I am," he replied. "You're a smart girl, Mudblood, haven't you worked any of this out yet?"
Hermione shook her head.
Malfoy smiled at her, "You're the cleverest student in our year and the most attractive woman I've ever seen. I want you. I've thought that since first year, but father would disown me if I ever said anything of my fondness towards you. So, I turned that attraction into hatred. You're friends with Pothead and Weasel; that made it much easier for me to dislike you."
Hermione looked at him in disbelief. Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy the renowned Death Eater and Muggleborn hater, was proclaiming his attraction for her. But - "That doesn't explain why you want to torture me."
He brushed his hair out of his face and looked at her, neither of them breaking the eye contact. "I want to torture you because all of this is your fault. If you'd have been a Pureblood none of this would be happening. This is entirely your fault. I could have loved you if your blood had been pure but you just had to ruin it!" He jammed his wand into the side of her neck, pressing the tip violently onto her skin.
Hermione gave a huge gasp, shocked at Malfoy's force and anger. Her head was spinning. Draco Malfoy had just proclaimed that he could have loved her if it were not for her blood status. Her life suddenly flashed before her; Malfoy kissing her, marrying her, having children with her... She shook her head, not responding to him. No, she could never think of Malfoy in that way. It was completely out of the question, and here he was; deranged and about to torture her.
"Crucio," he whispered in her ear.
The pain was unbearable for Hermione and she began to scream and writhe, begging Malfoy to stop. He continued to hold the curse over her, smirking slightly as he did. She continued to twist and shout on the floor, crying and clutching at her head, waiting for the pain to stop. After what felt like years, Malfoy released the curse and dropped down next to her. His smirk had been replaced with a look of horror.
"What have I just done?" he said hoarsely, looking at Hermione with wide eyes. He reached forward towards her, his hand shaking.
"Get away from me," she said, horror-stricken. "Just get the hell away from me."
Malfoy curled up in a ball, still shaking. He began to cry and rock himself back and forth. He seemed to be whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," repeatedly.
Hermione stared at him, cradling her body to give herself some comfort, "What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed at him.
He stopped rocking for a second and looked up at the bushy-haired girl. His silvery grey eyes were glistening with tears. "I-I don't know... I'm so sorry, I-I'm s-s-sorry!" he sobbed, choking slightly.
Hermione looked at the helpless Slytherin on the floor, wondering whether to make a run for it or to comfort him and help him. He had curled back into a ball and had, once again, begun to rock back and forth. She laid a hand on his shoulder and he flinched, drawing away from where she was stood. Malfoy turned his face away from her, hiding his tears. Hermione tried to put her hand on his shoulder again and, like the last time, he flinched. But instead of moving away from her, he stayed where he was and allowed Hermione to keep her hand on his shoulder.
When she spoke to him, her voice was significantly softer than it had previously been, "What on earth did you hurt me for? I haven't done anything wrong."
Malfoy shook violently as he cried more, "You have to forgive me, Granger. You have to. The Dark Lord wanted me to kill you, he used Legilimens on me. He knew... He knew how I felt about you. This is how he thought I could completely lose any affection for you, to prove my strength and devotion to him. He thought that if I tortured you enough that I'd become immune to feeling anything," he spat bitterly.
"So why can't you do it?" Hermione asked.
He turned his head so he as now facing her, his eyes still shining with the tears they had shed. "Because I am not a Death Eater. I don't want to be part of their sick group. I'm stronger- no... I'm better than that," he said.
Hermione was lost for words. She had always thought that Malfoy had entirely supported what Lord Voldemort had preached and practiced but here he was telling her that he agreed with none of it. His Dark Mark was slightly visible through the crisp white shirt that he was wearing and Hermione could see it twisting itself around Malfoy's forearm. She realised that her hand was still on his shoulder and removed it quickly. Before she could consider her choices, she hugged him, squeezing his torso tightly, as if she wished to squash every single horrible thing Malfoy had ever said to her out of his body. He clasped on to her arms, refusing to let go.
"Forgive me, Granger, for anything I've ever said to you while we were at Hogwarts," he pleaded, "Forgive me for what I just did, too. I want you to forgive me for everything I've ever done wrong in my life."
Hermione looked at him and shook her head, "I can't forgive you. Not yet. You've done nothing to prove that you're genuinely sorry."
Malfoy's shoulders dropped slightly and he gave a large sigh.
"Prove yourself. Fight in the battle. On our side. The right side."
He gave a hollow laugh. "Like anyone on your side would want me to fight alongside them," he said.
"They'd probably prefer that to you trying to kill them," Hermione shrugged, pulling away from him and getting up, still shaking from the Cruciatus curse he had put on her.
"Where are you going?" Malfoy asked as he realised the witch was heading towards the door on the opposite side of the unused, dark classroom.
"I'm going back to the battle," she said, plainly. "When you've sorted yourself out, you should, too. Fight for the right side, Malfoy."
He gave her a weak smile, "I will do, even if it costs me my life." Hermione opened the oak door and made her way out of the room. "Thanks, Granger. You're still annoying as shit but thank you."
Hermione nodded at Malfoy awkwardly and left.
Okay how was that? Any good? I'm not the best at this whole writing thing so please review so I can improve it!
Chlo