Disclaimer: Not my characters.
Warning: Character death.
Inspired by Epic Score – Final Hour.
Promises of War.
"I'm scared." He nuzzled her neck.
"Isn't everyone?" At her heavy sigh, he knew he had answered wrongly. Reaching around her to caress her arm fleetingly, he blew a cool breath against her back, causing her to shudder.
"Worry not Hermione. I'll protect you." She tightened her grip around him.
"Promise?" Frail. Uncertain. So unlike the Hermione Granger everyone used to know. This was one who was ravaged by war and despair, whose soul was on the way to being as black as his. Draco squeezed her back.
"I promise." At her slight relaxation, he whispered in her ear, "I love you."
A small smile graced her lips.
The hour was close. He could feel it in his bones.
The atmosphere was crackling, a magical crescendo sparking, whipping across skin in its effort to flee from the chaotic death that surrounded the battlefield. A coppery tang filled his nose and mouth, long-forgotten wounds having long since been reopened, his strength ebbing slowly, yet still he raised himself to his feet once more to face his nameless, faceless opponent.
Wayward curses contributed to his graceless weaving and dodging as the attacks grew fiercer. Sweat poured down his face as he tried in vain to look for the one he needed to protect.
Running desperately through the fray, he scanned the rapidly blackening field to no avail, sliding on the red-brown slush that now constituted the Earth. Blindly firing curses behind his, he pressed ever onward, sinking to his feet.
The blood of the innocent would forever tarnish the ground.
An eerie green whisked within a hairsbreadth of his shoulder. He stumbled fleeting, outrunning the monsters that surrounded him. Breaths coming in desperate pants as he forced himself past breaking point, eyes feverishly scanning the area.
Ducking again, he finally spied her body, hair fanned out like a halo, face strangely at peace within this cacophony of violence and blood.
He was too late.
Time itself slowed. A heart-wrenching wail filled the skies as his knees slammed into the ground, reaching to cradle her body close to his chest, face pressed against her forehead, transferred tears sliding onto her cheeks.
Noises from the battlefield filtered from his ears, leaving only a blessed muted silence.
His chest, his heart, his very soul split in two; white-hot pain blazed through every inch of his skin, boiling his blood, setting his bones aflame. Sheer agony gripped him in its fist, bringing him no comfort, no healing, only a never-ending cascade of guilt-laced pain.
He had failed her.
Rising unsteadily to his feet, he turned his face to the looming wisps of cloud that blanketed the sky. He would use her strength to bring revenge upon all who contributed to slay her. Limping away from her, he scanned the ground for another to protect, another to serve, who could bring him atonement. Someone he could guide and protect through this terrible existence they called their childhood. The war should not smother the last of their generation's childhood.
Scars would remain, and the world would battle on. He would battle on.
For the innocent would always need one more protector.
End.
28/12/11