To Fight and Defend
By Cherished Dreams

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

The illusion of softly dancing flames on the walls of the great castle, as the sun set just beyond the horizon and over the gamekeeper's hut was sorely missed by one, Hermione Granger. She missed the drifting smell of both aged and newly printed books, as she poured over her homework each day; the familiarity of each step leading to the Great Hall for feeding; the soft lushness of the Gryffindor couch, as she sat listening to Harry and Ron and their complaints of the day's homework.

But mostly, she missed the stolen moments shared, in the labyrinth of Hogwarts, with him.

Nothing too long, romantic, or even too friendly really. But there would be little things that she thought would stay in her memories about him and their time at Hogwarts.

There was a little moment she would keep with her. One that stood out amongst the rest.

She had been working restlessly, in the library, over an ancient runes translation proving difficult and more complex than she had first thought. She had been there for a few hours, noticing that he had entered and wondered around the shelves close to her table. She was decoding a difficult rune, when her eyes slowly slipped close to their accord.

When they opened again, a translation of it was written in neat spiky writing on a piece of parchment. When she had looked up, she found him sitting a desk across from hers, with an ancient runes text in his hands.

Hermione Granger missed them all. As she climbed softly out of her bed and into her evening gown, she could not help but feel strangely trapped in her dark surroundings. She lit a candle, tiptoed down the cold smooth steps of 12 Grimwald Place and let herself out and into the small patio type garden, accessible from the clean kitchen Kreacher kept for them.

Exhaling, she looked up at the dark blue velvet sky filled with seemingly still fireflies twinkling down at her. She sat down just next to the door on a small patch of living grass and hugged her knees for warmth. The door opened and shut.

And it was him.

Him, with the blonde hair, pointy sharp features that became him, and sharp witted tongue. Of course she knew that he would come and follow her. Strangely, he could never be found sleeping in this House of Black, even in the dead of the night. He stood next to her, steady and quietly lit a cigarette.

"That's a filthy habit Malfoy." She said after a few moments had passed, knitting her brows into a frown. He shrugged not really caring, but nevertheless dragged out the last part, before throwing it on the floor and extinguishing the flame left with the bottom of his shoe.

"Dumbledore gave you three a last mission."

She wasn't surprised. Everyone in the Order knew it, even a few outside of it. She nodded. He let a few moments pass before he cleared his throat, and said
quietly, "I'm supposed to follow you."

He slid down to sit next to her. The irony she thought, him and her sitting there under the velvet night together.

"Can't you get out?" She asked him, softly placing a hand on his shoulder. "Granger…" He started off slowly, with a tone of impatience. "Fight for the Light side. Show them that you don't follow their beliefs." She said animatedly. She raked her brain for more ideas, plans anything to help him get out of his sticky situation.

Without any warning he turned and grabbed her shoulders, squeezing painfully, forcing them both to stand. "Don't you understand Granger? They've got my family. My friends. I can't do any of those no matter how good it might sound out loud or in that Gryffindor brain of yours! He could kill them."

He let her go, both of them wide eyed with surprise. "I'm doing this!" He waved his hands gesturing to the house, the Order's former headquarters. "This… to ensure he doesn't kill them." His family was practically kept hostage, he had to obey orders, why couldn't she understand?

Her mind whirred. "But it's wrong! They're making you torture Muggles and Half-Bloods. Next they'll have you killing for them. You're not on our side if you--" She stopped mid-word, starring at the wand in his hand.

"Don't."

She was unarmed. She would lose in this fight. She stared hard at him. "What's our motto?" she asked coldly. He sighed and slowly lowered his wand.

"To Fight and Defend."

Hermione softened her eyes and reached out and gingerly touched his lowering hand. "That's right." She whispered, hoping he'd let her touch him. Make him understand.

"For ones we love. The people who are innocent." He stared at her with the same sad expression, his grey eyes wary and sad, as when she found him in the toilet that day he returned.

And suddenly, she found herself smelling him, her face buried in his chest. He had pulled her forward into a hard hug. And he held on to her tightly. Like a small boy clawing for support, drowning in a stormy sea.

Hermione wrapped her arms around the boy's torso and let him hold on to her. She had to admit to herself, she felt lighter than ever when he whispered, "For the ones we love" in her ear.

A/N:This was originally supposed to be a lone standing story about something else somewhat similar to this story but I instead made it a kind of sequel to 'Untitled' [which has yet to be titled ). Can be read alone. Tried to write it similar to my old writing style.

Let me know how I go! Click the Review button. We both know you want to. wink wink