Fireborn

Author: Carnival Sleeper

Rating: T (violence, language, suggestive material/language, mature themes, possible sexual situations)

Spoilers: All

Genre: Friendship/Romance

Main Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger

Secondary Characters: Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Voldemort

Ships: Draco/Hermione, Lucius/Narcissa, Harry/Ginny, Voldemort/Ginny

Summary: Draco becomes destined to destroy Voldemort forever, as a deeper look into the prophecy reveals him to be the true 'Chosen One'. Born of fire and possessing the power to master life and death itself, he is set on a path he is not prepared for. Hermione, despite everything, finds herself drawing closer to Draco as she aids him in finding the courage to do what needs to be done.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from this marvelous universe, only pieces of the plot. I also don't own anything from the universes of my main inspirations/references for this story.

Authors Note: This story will have some very heavy references to Game of Thrones (most particularly the Targaryen's), and some to elements of Skyrim, but not enough to be considered a crossover for either of those genres. You do not need to have watched GoT or to have played Skyrim to read this story. They are mostly just sources of inspiration for me.

I also feel it's worth noting that I've depicted canon scenes from both the movie and the book. In this first chapter, for instance, there were some elements I preferred in the book (such as Crabbe being the one to start the fire in the RoR rather than Goyle). Just thought I'd give you all a heads up ;) Enjoy!

Fireborn

"Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus"

Chapter I

The Room of Requirement

-.-+-.-

As Draco passed through the doors of the familiar room, his surroundings unnervingly similar to where he'd spend the majority of the previous year, he tried to keep himself focused on his task. To find Potter and get his wand back. Simple as that. Although…he'd heard the same announcement as everyone else. He knew of the deadline the Dark Lord had given them. Potter needed to be turned over that night, or more would die. More…would die. His classmates, his housemates, the people he'd grown up with over the years. So many had died already. He just wanted it all to be over.

'Don't get distracted,' he reminded himself, tightening his hold on his mother's wand. What was Potter doing in a place like this anyway? He reigned in his thoughts, walking slowly and silently among the piles of forgotten and ancient artifacts, grateful that Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be treading as lightly as he was. There wasn't any need to alert Potter to their presence here until they had to. They needed to get the jump on him.

Focusing on these little details helped Draco to ignore all the complicated feelings and thoughts that seemed to persist his day to day life lately, and it was really the only reprieve he had. One thing at a time. One moment at a time. Dwelling on the past and the horrors he'd been exposed to would do him no good. It wouldn't change anything.

'There', he thought, catching movement and turning the corner, wand drawn and eyes set firmly on his bespectacled rival. He was looking down at something, but Draco didn't pause to figure out what. He had a task to complete.

"Well, well," he said once he was certain he and the pair behind him were in position. He was pleased to see he'd managed to catch Potter by surprise and his resolve strengthened just a bit, despite the fact that he was a little unnerved to find him alone. Where were his faithful companions? The Weasel and Granger? "What brings you here, Potter?"

He remained tense, but his voice was somehow composed and low, words soft and harboring only the slightest trace of a threat. However, to the trained ear, his tone was also tired and revealed how greatly Draco just wanted it all to stop, being entirely absent as it was of the sneer he'd always directed towards Potter and his friends. At this point, he didn't care for much aside from ensuring the safety of his parents and his classmates. That was all that mattered. And it would be made much easier once he had his own wand in his hand again.

One step at a time.

He managed a small smirk, but it was halfhearted and mostly for appearance sake.

Potter stepped forward, obviously a little surprised and perhaps a little unnerved by the intrusion, but otherwise relatively calm. "I could ask you the same." Did he really have no idea? No, Draco supposed not. He didn't suppose it mattered much to Potter that he'd taken his wand. Especially when, yes, there were technically bigger things to worry about. Draco agreed, but he still needed his wand back.

"You have something of mine," he explained evenly. "I'd like it back." There was no time for games or anything of the sort. He simply stated his purpose and hoped Potter would comply.

"Well, what's wrong with the one you have?" Potter countered immediately, even somewhat conversationally.

"It's my mother's," Draco replied without missing a beat. "It's powerful, but it's…not the same." Despite the apparently civil exchange between the two, the Malfoy was aware of an underlying tension. "Doesn't quite..." Draco continued and paused for effect, "understand me." When he spoke again, a little more of a threat slipped into his words. "Know what I mean?" He should. He hadn't been using his own wand in a good while either. Draco was well aware he could openly threaten to turn Potter in, but part of him resisted that urge. He didn't want to think too deeply over the reason for that though.

But Potter pushed the issue further, unsettling Draco almost immediately. "Why didn't you tell her?" He knew the threat was there, and he was challenging Draco's ability to even voice it. He was genuinely curious as to Draco's intentions. And, after a pause, Potter continued, eyes firm and unwavering as he clarified. "Bellatrix."

Draco kept his face composed, all too aware of the two standing behind him. He didn't want to drop his guard. He briefly entertained the idea of feigning ignorance, but Potter pressed on.

"You knew it was me." All nervousness had disappeared from his face, and he spoke in a completely confident and finite tone. There was no room for argument. "You didn't say anything." There was nothing accusatory in what he said, only a spoken fact and willingness to hear him out.

And that's what broke through Draco's guard. Potter was offering him something here. An explanation. Draco's mouth parted and closed again, his eyes lowering. What could he say? That some part of him had hoped Potter would succeed and finally end all of this for them? That he believed in him? He could never actually speak those words out loud, much less really admit them to himself.

"Draco," a voice suddenly hissed in his ear.

Draco glanced back as Crabbe spoke, before slowly shifting his eyes back to Potter as he swallowed uncomfortably, once again conflicted over a choice.

"Don't be a prat," Crabbe insisted. "Do it."

His entire expression wavering, the young Malfoy felt his emotions breaking through, despite his resistance to allow them to. Whatever was left of his walls crumbled a little more, and his compassion warred with his upbringing once again. It was a weakness not to turn Potter in. Here he had him at wand point, and yet he still couldn't bring himself to do what he needed to. Crabbe was right.

However, deep inside, he also felt the wrongness of it. He felt a strong resistance to handing the Dark Lord what he wanted. To…enabling any of this continue. If Potter was really the only one capable of stopping him, then Draco didn't want to stand in his way. He felt sick for betraying his heritage, but he just couldn't bring himself to follow through. The line was so blurred for him now. Nothing was clear. He hardly even knew what his beliefs were anymore, or where he really stood. He had just been drifting along, the strings being pulled by those more powerful than himself.

He saw Potter reach for his wand, expression still composed, and Draco nervously spoke a soft "easy," to him, not wanting the ordeal to turn into something violent. He wondered if Potter was really about to hand his wand over, but only had a moment to actually hope for it.

He visibly shook, eyes wide, before Granger and Weasley stepped out from behind Potter. He knew there had been something wrong with their absence. Granger caught him by surprise as she shouted a well-aimed "Expelliarums," and effectively disarmed him.

Draco's survival instinct kicked in and he immediately decided to forget retrieving his wand, as he no longer held the upper hand. He turned and shoved past Crabbe and Goyle in a sudden haste to escape this place. He heard Crabbe shout "Avada Kedavra," and his heart automatically and briefly stopped as he felt the familiar dread of having to be in the presence of another death. However, it didn't come, and he continued forward, Weasley having countered the curse before taking to chasing after the three of them.

They were well one their way out, when Draco suddenly realized Crabbe wasn't following and stopped to search for his companion. He saw him standing a few feet away and exchanged a confused glance with Goyle, before the tip of Crabbe's wand suddenly erupted in flame and began to engulf their surroundings with the strength of a wildfire. 'How did-' but his eyes again widened and his heart pounded when he saw that the flames were quickly spreading and beginning to take on the shapes of feral beasts, chasing after all those in their path. Weasley screamed and ran back the way he came and Goyle shouted for Crabbe to follow him and Draco.

They ran, with Crabbe following as he desperately tried to put out the fire from his wand, though he only succeeded in spreading it further. Draco grabbed Goyle and directed him towards a large pile of artifacts, quickly beginning to scramble up towards the top. He was running on adrenaline and didn't pause to consider the situation. All he could focus on was surviving. He wasn't even sure exactly why he was focusing so hard on that, after everything. Wouldn't it be far easier to just...let go? But no. It simply wasn't in his nature to give up. No matter what was happening. Or to willingly face death. It'd always frightened him.

He was scared, and that was all he could identify. With a brief glance down, he saw it was rising and moved faster, while also noting that both his friends were safely behind him. He became more determined, assuring himself he could make it out of this, though a hopelessness nagged at him.

But then his heart stopped again when he heard a terrified scream. He stopped and looked down in time to see that Crabbe was falling, before the boy's body was immediately extinguished by the violent flames. Draco breathed heavily, eyes threatening to tear up at the sight, yet another grief to join the rest, before he refocused. 'Not now. Not now. Oh God, but Crabbe d-…no. Not now.'

He moved higher, making sure to stay close by Goyle, though his housemate looked just about ready to pass out from the heat. When they reached the top, he saw Weasley fly directly overhead on a broom and felt his heart sank. He felt the bench they were standing on shift as Goyle fell to his knees, eyes drifting closed. Draco wrapped an arm around him to keep him from falling, before looking up towards the disappearing brooms desperately.

Was this it? Was this the end? To burn to death in these flames? He looked down at Goyle, someone who'd been beside him all this time, since the very beginning, and thought of Crabbe again. Maybe they all wouldn't have to stay separated for much longer. Would…it hurt though? It seemed to go quickly for Crabbe, and that comforted the Malfoy only slightly.

He began to sob, but didn't really know the real cause for it. Was it from fear? Or was it grief over his friend? Maybe it was both. All he could do was wait here as the flames steadily rose higher.

But then he looked up and saw Potter's broom whizzing towards him and his heart leaped in sudden hope as he immediately reached up. He couldn't even stop to think about what had possessed Potter to do this for him, but he wouldn't complain. He held one arm wrapped around Goyle, and caught sight of Granger following closely behind Potter, eyes set on his companion. He could be saved too. Draco reached up further in anticipation, his survival feeling so close.

However, the sweat from his skin caused his hand to slip almost as soon as he'd tried to grasp Potter's. His balance wavered, and he only briefly registered that Granger had used her wand to secure Goyle, before the bench toppled over. Draco froze in the brief moment before he fell, catching sight of Potter turning to come back for him, before he felt his stomach drop as he looked down towards the flames as they reached up to greet him, feeling the increasing hate as he swiftly neared them. A flamed dragon roared deeply and loudly, opening its wide jaws to swallow him. He closed his eyes and then shouted in despair as he was tunneled through the most intense heat he'd ever felt.

And then he grunted as he fell against a hard surface, his surroundings continuing to hellishly scorch him as the flames licked at his skin. But…no pain? There wasn't any pain. Draco looked up immediately, seeing only the raging fire and feeling nothing but the heat of its touch. Was he not dead yet? Had it not started burning him? He didn't want to stand, afraid of what would come, and clung to the stone surface of the floor, head bowing and eyes closing. How long was it supposed to take?

But though he waited, the pain still didn't come. He opened his eyes again and looked up towards the ceiling, before finally deciding to try standing. Waiting here was pointless, wasn't it? He weakly stood, only then registering that he was completely bare before the flames. His clothes…they'd been burned off him completely. However, aside for the blackened ash against his skin, he was otherwise untouched. Unburned. Was this some sort of spell?

A deep roar demanded his attention and his wide eyes immediately shifted to the flamed dragon approaching him again. He cringed and felt the instinct to run. But it was too fast. It swept over him, and his hair was swept back violently at the motion, his arms lifting to cover his face. It flapped its flame-like wings in such a powerful motion that it nearly pushed him over. However, somehow, he stood his ground, and when the heated wind subsided, he lowered his arms and looked to the massive wall of flame before him.

He chanced a step forward and, though confused, he continued to walk as he saw the result was harmless. The flames weren't burning him. Or…perhaps he was dead already. Maybe he'd died instantly, and was now a ghost, doomed to reside here in Hogwarts forever. But that didn't explain what had happened to his clothes. The ghosts had always retained theirs. Had any of them been burned alive? Maybe it was different?

Whatever the case, confusion and curiosity drove him forward. On the off chance this was a spell and he was, in fact, still living, then he decided that he had to get out of this room. He wasn't sure how long this would last. He saw an opening in the fire and the doors beyond it and continued to walk, each step more determined than the last. He was almost there.

If he was dead though, then he decided death wasn't so bad after all. He wondered why it had always scared him so much before. The possibility itself had the strange affect of instilling a certain relief. He no longer had to worry. Well…for his parents, but maybe they could feel this too. Maybe they would be happier here too. The grief momentarily left him as his mind experienced a certain euphoria. Perhaps it was simply the heat though.

He stepped out from the wall of flame, skin ashen, and felt an immediate, cool sensation, before he glanced back at the fire, hardly believing he'd just walked through it.

"Malfoy?"

The voice drew his attention back to the door and his eyes widened when he saw the four people standing there. If they could see him…did that mean he was alive? Despite his earlier wave of thought, a certain spark of hope lifted his chest. But...why did he hope to go back to this? 'Because there's still a chance Potter might win…still a chance for my life to get better.' He was suddenly ashamed that he'd been so relieved to be dead. Or…possibly dead.

They were all staring at him in disbelief, and he couldn't blame them. Didn't that just prove he was alive? He doubted they'd be that surprised over a ghost. However, it also meant that none of them had been responsible for the spell that had preserved him. He couldn't even begin to explain that one. He had no wand, so he figured it was unlikely that he'd done it himself. Though, he also reasoned that perhaps he'd done it subconsciously. He stored the thought away for later.

One step at a time.

It was Potter who had spoken at first, but now Goyle did, and Draco was relieved to see him awake-though only just barely. "How did you-" he swallowed and then glanced down, before looking away.

Draco's brows furrowed and he noticed Granger was also looking away. What was that about? But then, with a sudden rush of embarrassment, he remember his clothes had been incinerated. Well…that was just fantastic, wasn't it? He frantically searched around for something, anything, to cover himself with. The flames ventured out every now and then, lapping at his feet, but he was more or less unaware of it.

Most of the things in the room had burned away already, but he did find an old tapestry of some sort near the door. He slowly made his way towards it, still a little disoriented, and aware that both Weasley and Potter were eyeing his movements cautiously, while Goyle looked ashamed for him and Granger tried to keep from watching him curiously. He hated that they were only so interested because he was some sort of freak of nature at the moment, and so he looked away from their stares and reached for the tapestry, wrapping it around himself tightly. He doubted the golden trio were particularly relieved that he'd made it out, despite Potter's rescue attempt.

He looked up at Potter and met his stare with a narrowed gaze of his own. He again didn't know what to say, and was too confused and unsettled to really stick around and put up with their guarded and awed expression. He needed to get out of here.

But then inspiration struck and he made a motion of stumbling forward, the task being easier than he expected as he was little unbalanced already. Predictably, after a moment, Potter sprang into action and awkwardly offered his arm. "Malfoy…" he began, but didn't seem to know what to say either.

"Harry," Granger spoke, and Draco almost smirked at her timing. "The-" she paused, leaving Draco to wonder what she'd really been about to say. "Heirloom."

Potter caught onto some sort of meaning from her, but as soon as his attention shifted, Draco reached for the wand that was only halfway shoved into the boy's pocket.

And there it was in an instant, returned to his hand. Draco pushed away from Potter as soon as the other boy realized what had happened and looked to him with wide eyes, a hint of betrayal there. Why should he feel betrayed though? When he was the one to steal it from him? If he needed a wand, he could borrow from either one of his two chums beside him.

Granger made a move of bringing out her own wand, but Draco only shook his head and pointed his at her, "don't." His voice sounded more strained than he'd wanted it to, but it was commanding enough. He didn't know what it was that made her waiver, but he took advantage of it as he rushed forward, reached for Goyle and dragged him along behind him into the hall.

He heard Weasley begin to mutter a spell before Potter informed him to stop and to simply 'let them go'. Draco tried not to think about what had just taken place, but it pounded at his mind anyway. As adverse as he was to admit it, he was frightened. The unexplainable and unknown had always frightened him, and now he was left trying to figure what exactly had happened to him back there.

…

Harry watched the pair disappear around the corner, before looking to the diadem in his hand. They were safely away from the flames by now, but the inferno still raged just beyond the door.

"Let's get out of here," Hermione said, before looking to the horcrux. "And destroy that thing for good."

They both turned and Ron followed, before he suddenly stopped and raised his voice a little. "Are you two going to just pretend like that didn't just happen?"

When they both looked at him, he shook his head and his eyes were wide. "Draco bloody Malfoy just walked right out of those flames completely unharmed! He should be dead!"

Harry swallowed and looked away, confused himself and unable to explain a bit of it. But he just really couldn't think about it right now. He had things to do. They could focus on Malfoy later on. He was more upset that he'd managed to take his weapon from him, adding procuring another wand to his time imperative to-do-list.

"I'm not ignoring it," Harry said. "I just...have other things I need to focus on." He lifted the diadem and then slammed it on the ground.

Hermione composed herself and handed him the basilisk tooth, then watching as her best friend destroyed it, before he collapsed from the extinguishing power it released. She always felt so concerned when that happened, hating the helpless feeling it brought on, but knowing that there really wasn't anything she could do about it.

And, though she wanted to be able to completely focus on their task right now too, the inquisitive side of her mind couldn't completely ignore what she'd witnessed in that room. She had assumed at first that it had been a spell, but then remembered that she'd disarmed Malfoy before the fire had even started.

She didn't like things she couldn't explain, and could already feel a familiar, desperate itch to uncover the mystery behind it. She'd never once seen anything like it. The moment he'd emerged from those flames, with that flamed dragon roaring behind him, there had been something very…powerful about it. Something she couldn't describe.

She didn't like this.

When Ron reached for her hand, she looked up at him and smiled, before nodding when he asked if she was alright. It had meant a lot that he'd so bravely chased those three down after Crabbe had cast the killing curse her way. One mishap or poor reaction time on his part would've resulted in her death.

When Hermione saw that Harry still hadn't recovered from destroying the horcrux, her brows creased in worry, and she exchanged a look of concern with Ron, before they both knelt and looked to their friend questioningly. He was shaking and sweating, and his breaths were rough and uncontrolled. Hermione wanted so badly to reach for him, yet knew from experience that it was better to simply wait until he'd calmed down. The helplessness ate at her, but she resisted for his sake.

When he opened his eyes again, there was a slight pause as he caught his breath, before he spoke. "I know where he is."

And neither she nor Ron had to question who he meant.