Surrender
Another crash. Another explosion. Those noises seemed to mean nothing to Hermione now. After hours and hours of being in the heat of the battle, all the noises, the cries of pain and death and the screams of fear were nothing but a distant echo in her head. The only thing that was clear to her now was the pounding of her heart and the roaring of the fire as it callously burned the room below her, destroying everything in its path.
Hermione scanned the room, searching for any sign that he might still be alive. She gripped the handle of her broom ever tighter as she turned—albeit a little unsteady—searching for the three boys below. Out of the corner of her eye, she was dimly aware of Harry and Ron, their eyes averted downward in the same desperate search as she.
"'Mione, are you alright?" Called Ron from his broomstick to Hermione's left.
"Yeah," she responded, dimly aware of the fact that she was shivering violently, despite the heat of the blaze.
She flew on, trying desperately not to think the worst. She flew a little lower and narrowly avoided a fireball that was hurling towards her. Her heart seemed to be in her throat as she flew in circles, her eyes darting speedily across the orange landscape below.
Thick smoke billowed from the flames and Hermione found it difficult to breathe. She turned wildly, smoke pressing in on her from all sides, blocking her vision. Her ribcage ached from the pounding of her frightened heart as she thought of Harry and Ron. Had they gotten out? Had they gotten lost? Or worse… had they fallen into the fiery ocean below?
Tears clouded her vision as this thought formed. Just hours ago she had been on cloud nine. Ron—the guy she had been in love with since fourth year—had kissed her. And now they were all trapped in a blazing death pit with no visible means of escape.
Hermione angrily wiped the tears away.
Stop it! She thought to herself. Don't be a wimp! Even if they are dead, don't let it be for nothing! Buck up and remember why you are here! Just take a deep breath and save them.
Dropping lower into the pit of flames, Hermione flew around wildly looking for the three boys. Her stomach jolted unpleasantly as she spotted a large boy slumped against the wall, definitely dead, with half the skin on his face burnt off. Resisting the urge to vomit, Hermione moved a little closer to identify the body.
Crabbe.
Usually, when someone you know is dead, one tends to feel some form of sadness or loss. Hermione could not bring herself to feel either of those things. He ignited the flames; he brought his death upon himself. So now, standing in front of the eighteen year old's dead body, Hermione could only bring herself to feel one thing. Sympathy. She felt sorry for him and his gullible mind. She was sorry that, because he believed everything Voldemort had told him, he would not be able to live a full and happy life.
Hermione hastily put a shield charm on his dead body. She knew it wouldn't hold up long, but it was the best she could do to protect him from further harm. She turned away on her broomstick and continued the search, not looking back once.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione flew lower, taking care to avoid nearby flames and darting fireballs. The heat was immense as Hermione looked below for the remaining two boys she and her friends came to save. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and slithered down her cheeks and she bit her lip in concentration. She abruptly swerved as a yell echoed in her ears. It was too high pitched to be Ron. There was a slight possibility it was Harry. Or of course it could be Draco or Goyle; the two other boys trapped in the depths of the fire.
Keeping a steady hold on the warm handle of the broom, Hermione swerved this way and that, desperately searching for the source of the fearful cry. She dearly hoped that she was not going in circles as the ever billowing smoke flew skyward and impaired her vision further. Hermione's shaking had still not subsided as she flew lower still, searching for a gap in the fire and smoke.
Alarm bells went off in her brain as her eyes raked over a head of blonde hair. The smoke shifted slightly as Hermione flew through it towards the slightly burnt, yet alive body of Draco Malfoy. Relief spread over her as she realised that her, Harry and Ron's mission may not have been a lost cause after all.
She moved cautiously towards him, avoiding the ever spreading flames with great skill.
"Draco!" She yelled, but to no avail.
His arms flailed desperately and his silvery-blonde head was turned away from Hermione.
"DRACO!" She screamed, much louder than before.
That got his attention. His eyes flashed to her face just in time to see her swooping towards him. Just in time, his strong hands grabbed the end of the broom and he swung himself into an appropriate sitting position.
"Granger," he said in awe. "You're alive!"
"No Malfoy, I'm a corpse on a broomstick. I don't have time for this! Can you see the way out?"
"I can't see anything with this smoke,"
Another fireball hurled towards them and Hermione swerved to the side just in time. Draco gave a startled yell.
"Granger, you're going to get us killed, let me sit up front!"
"Listen Malfoy; you should be grateful we even came back for you at all! So don't you dare criticize our methods! And how the bloody hell would we swap places anyway?"
Draco smirked and snapped his fingers.
"Like this," he said, from his new position in the front.
"How did you do that?" Asked Hermione, startled.
Even from her position in the back, Hermione could guess that the trademark Malfoy smirk had taken up residence on his face. She scowled. It was just like him to gloat because he knew something she didn't. It was a few moments before he spoke again.
"You're forgetting Granger; I was a Death Eater for two years," he said smugly.
"Of course," Hermione muttered scornfully.
The broom rocked slightly and in fright, Hermione grabbed a free bit of broom handle in front of her. She wasn't very steady, but at least she wasn't falling.
"Granger; you know, you're gonna fall if you hold on like that," Draco called from the front.
"No I won't," Hermione snapped; she then rocked slightly as he made a sharp turn.
"Granger; stop being an idiot and put your arms around me already!" he yelled.
Cautiously, Hermione prepared to accept his request, adorning a disgusted expression. She slid her arms around his waist and almost yelped in surprise as a heat which had nothing to do with the fire below spread from her arms to the rest of her body. Her heart rate slowed to an almost stop as they soared through the flames together. He seemed to feel it too because when he spoke, his voice was shaky and nervous.
"D-do you see the exit?" he murmured.
"No," Hermione responded, her head flailing around wildly, looking for some sort of opening. "There it is!" She screeched, pointing towards the far side of the room, her arms still wrapped around her arch enemy.
Draco made a mad dash for the opening but Hermione clung to him tighter and pulled him to the right, away from the exit.
"What the hell, Granger? Are you mental?" He bellowed.
"Harry and Ron! We can't just leave them!" Hermione screamed.
"I don't care! We have to get you out of here!" The volume of his voice increased with every word spoke.
"Well I care!" Hermione responded. "And if you remember correctly, I was the one saving you-!"
Hermione was cut off as yet another fireball hurled towards them, but this time Draco did not swerve in time. The flame collided with the tail end of the broomstick and it ignited. Even though it was a good half a metre away, Hermione could feel the heat radiating from the rogue flame as it climbed up the broomstick towards her.
"DAMN IT GRANGER!" he roared and, despite her best efforts, he was too strong as he swerved towards the opening in the wall. Barely missing the flames that roared up in front of the opening, Draco steered them out of harms way, Hermione clinging to him all the while, the broomstick leaving a stream of smoke behind them.
The two wizards jumped off the broom just as it exploded in a field of orange and red. They were both panting as if they had just completed a marathon. Hermione let out a breath of relief, her pulse returning to normal.
"Thanks Draco," she said softly.
"It's ok," he said, grinning; the first real smile Hermione had ever seen him wear. He reached out, as if to touch her, but then thought better of it and dropped his hand back to his side. "You know, you're not half bad Granger,"
Hermione felt the corners of her mouth turn up into what was unmistakably a smile, as her pulse quickened once more at the compliment. She was about to say something back when she heard a yell.
She turned her head so fast that she almost gave herself whiplash. And the mood brightened considerably at the arrival of Harry, Ron and Goyle as they breezed through the door on brooms, both slightly blackened by ash. The remains of Ravenclaw's diadem crumbling to dust in Harry's hands.