After some lovely requests, I've decided to add to this world. After this, it may just be a series of snippets (if I decide to add anything at all), but I'm so flattered that some of you wanted MORE from this version of Dramione. Love to you all!

Warning: some mildly graphic images are included.

Disclaimer: JK owns all. I own nothing.


The cabinet was finished weeks before it was supposed to be. Long, sleepless nights spent in the Room of Requirement with Hermione had yielded great results, and with the help of a few professors, they'd perfected the curse that would cause it to explode when a specific word was said. They'd turned the cabinet into a booby trap.

Tonight was the night and Draco's hand shook as he waited, alone, in the Room. He'd sent the owl to his father that morning to set things in motion.

Father,
My end of year project has been completed early.
Please send the supplies I need for my final project at your earliest convenience.
Draco

He hadn't received a reply, but knew the Death Eaters would be on their way through the cabinet that night. He'd wanted to go to dinner first, to see his friends for the last time, but he knew that wasn't a good idea. He wouldn't be able to act normally, he knew that, but more than anything, the thought of going to another dinner, of sitting with his friends and watching Hermione avoid looking at him at all, was too much. It distracted him, and he couldn't be distracted tonight.

He was alone in the Room and sat, staring at the cabinet, as he had for so many nights. Before, coming to this Room had felt like dying slowly. He hadn't been able to eat, to sleep. And then Hermione had come into the Room with him, into his life, had taken the reins, and now this was a place of strange hope. Hope for a future he'd never let himself imagine where he was free of the darkness. A future with Hermione.

"Draco?"

He spun at the whisper, panic welling up as Hermione stepped fully into the Room, her bottom lip red from where she'd been worrying it between her teeth.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, crossing the room to her and grabbing her shoulders in hands that still shook. "It's not safe."

"I said I wouldn't leave you alone," she said, her breaths quick, her eyes wide.

"You're not supposed to be here for this," he said, his chest tight with panic. There was a risk, being here. The cabinet was going to explode. He had a plan to keep himself safe. But if somehow they got through, she couldn't be here. "You have to be far from here when they come through." His voice was a harsh whisper.

"I didn't want you to be alone," she said as tears welled in her eyes.

"Granger," he said as he released her shoulders and cupped her face. He kissed her lips, swollen from chewing on them and she sobbed against his mouth. "I'm going to be fine. You know the plan," he said, pulling away, taking in her wide, panic-stricken eyes.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a breath, her hands gripping his forearms. "You come here, alone, to let them in." She swallowed, her breathing ragged. "I make sure I'm seen in the Great Hall at the end of dinner, act appropriately shocked when I hear the explosion - " her eyes pressed shut and tears slipped through her lids, trailing down her cheeks. "After dinner, I find McGonagall and she brings me to you. Where you'll be. Safe." She breathed the last bit.

"Dinner is set to start soon," he said, wiping her tears with the pads of his thumbs. "You should go."

Hermione's eyes widened in panic as she looked over his shoulder at the cabinet. Her eyes locked on his and then her arms were around his neck, her lips were on his, and she kissed him with such fervor he took a step back. He sank into her, his arms crushing her to his chest as her tongue flicked the seam of his mouth. He opened his lips to her and pulled her even tighter as her tongue danced against his.

After a moment that was over far too soon, she pulled away, pressing her forehead to his, her breaths stuttering with suppressed feeling.

"I love you," she whispered, and his eyes opened wide. She tightened her grip on his neck, in case he decided to pull away. "I know everything is going to be fine. I know this will work. But I couldn't let you do this, let you fake-die, without telling you how I felt first." Another tear slipped down her cheek.

He opened his mouth, but she stopped him from speaking by kissing him again, softly, her hands soft against his cheeks.

"I'll see you in a little while," she said, and then she was gone, Draco still standing there, unspoken words heavy on the tip of his tongue.

She loved him.

For years, he'd loved her, obsessed over her, worried for her. And then she had agreed to help him, to hold him, to kiss him, and he'd been sure that whatever they had would pass. He just knew that once the threat was gone, she would pull away, but he told himself it would be enough. Being with her like this, even in secret, even for a few short weeks, was more than he'd ever imagined.

And now, she loved him.

He looked at the cabinet. He went over the plan in his head. They would come through soon, in the next hour, and when they did, he would need to follow the plan perfectly so he'd be safe. He had to stay safe, so he could find her, and tell her he loved her too.


Dinner was nearly over. The last hour having dragged by so slowly. Draco stood, staring at the cabinet yet again, wand drawn.

The cabinet had started to vibrate. He put a strong locking charm on the outside, and the inside had been magically expanded to fit those coming through. It shook nine times with the impact of people stepping through before the doors were shaken from the inside.

"Nephew," Bellatrix's voice sang out as she jiggled the handle and it failed to open. "Nephew, open the door!" Her voice was sickly sweet, which meant she was angry.

"I have to make sure you are who you say," he said, not having to fake the fear in his voice. She'd expect him to be afraid of this. He wasn't known for his bravery. If he weren't afraid, she'd be suspicious.

"Open the door, welp." That was Fenrir Greyback. He hadn't expected him to be here. Greyback was nearly as evil as the Dark Lord. Killing him would be an added bonus.

"I need to know who's with you," Draco said, his voice shaking. "I need you each to say your name before I can open the doors." He swallowed, wand outstretched, hand shaking. "I - I can't let you through unless I know for sure."

"Good boy," Bellatrix sang out. "Keeping the Dark Lord's best interests at the forefront of what you do."

One by one they called out their names, their voices ranging from bored to angry.

Bellatrix Lestrange

Corban Yaxley

Fenrir Greyback

Amycus Carrow

Alecto Carrow

Thorfinn Rowle

Garrett Gibbon

Anthony Avery

Julius Jugson

"I've enchanted the cabinet to open with a password," Draco said, keeping his voice from shaking more than it had been. "That way, if anyone came through who shouldn't, I could keep them contained. But you have to be the one to say it. It won't work from out here." He took a deep breath and pulled the shield charm into his mind, ready to use it.

"And the password is?" Bellatrix asked, her voice getting higher in pitch. She was getting irritated with the delay. "We need to get on with this so you, sweet, sweet nephew can kill Dumbledore, and we can bring a little chaos into this wretched castle." The cabinet rattled as someone tried to push open the door again.

"Mirum victoria," Draco said as steadily as he could. "Once you say it, the door will open, and we can begin."

He thought of Hermione. Her lips. Her hands. Her eyes. Her words.

I love you.

"This feels like a trap," Yaxley said, his voice oily.

"Shut up!" Bellatrix screeched. "My sweet Drakey is just thorough. Careful."

"Then you say it," Greyback growled.

Draco lifted his wand. Protego Maxima. Protego Maxima. Protego Maxima. He repeated it over and over in his head, ready to cast the charm wordlessly.

"Mirum victoria," Bellatrix almost sang, her voice gleeful. There was a beat of silence. Someone tried to door handle. And then the cabinet, in a burst of silent energy, exploded outward.

Protego Maxima! Draco shouted in his mind, throwing out a shield a few feet in all directions. The blast was silent, but so bright he had to cover his eyes. The room shook and Draco fell to the ground, covering his head, heart beating louder than anything other than his ragged breath.

After a few moments he opened his eyes. The cabinet was smoking and in splinters. All around, things smoked with small flames. There were smears of blood and gore everywhere. Draco felt bile rise in his throat and he promptly vomited before vanishing it away with his wand, leaving no evidence that he was alive after the blast.

It was only seconds later, but felt like much longer in the strange silence, that the door opened and Snape rushed in, eyes wide. When they landed on Draco, his expression softened, but only for a moment.

"It was silent," Draco said, his ears ringing as if it hadn't been.

"A charm on the room," Snape said, moving to him, stepping over the gore to grab his arm. "The sound was delayed, pushed forward in time. You can't be here when the sound returns. We have to go now."

"Alright," Draco said, more bile rising in his throat as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a mess of black and silver hair. "Alright."

With a firm pressure, Snape gripped Draco's arm. In his other hand, he held the Hand of Glory - a gift from Draco's mother, given to him for this night. They vanished and Snape led them, silently, out of the room, leaving the door cracked so the chaos could be discovered.

Snape led him, quickly, nearly running, through the halls until he came to a corridor Draco had never been in. It was a corridor lined with single doors. They came to one near the middle, no different than the rest. Snape waved is wand and it swung open. He pulled dRaco darted in, the door closing behind them, just as the sound of the explosion caused the walls around them to vibrate.

From where they were, they couldn't hear the cacophony that Draco was sure would result from the sound of the explosion. The screams of students, the stomping of dozens of feet flocking toward the sound rather than away. The shouts of professors to try and get students to their common rooms. But he knew there would be.

"I have to go," Snape said, gripping Draco's shoulder tight. "The other professors will be at the Room of Requirement. I'll need to be among them." He gripped his shoulder again, a firm squeeze, and then he was gone.

Draco looked around the room. It was a suite meant for visitors to Hogwarts, which meant it had a bath, a bedroom, and a small living area. A dumbwaiter, charmed to deliver food from the kitchens, sat in the corner near a tiny kitchenette. It was quaint. Draco already hated how separate it was from everything.

And then there was a knock on the door - rapid, light taps. He took a breath, wand in his hand, and didn't say a word.

"It's me," she said. He was silent, though he wanted nothing more than to open the door, to see her face. He'd told her he would wait for their agreed upon password. A little louder now, she said, "Crepitus."

Draco opened the door as quickly as he could and Hermione fell into the room, arms going around him. He shut, locked, and silenced the door - the protocol he'd agreed upon with Dumbledore.

"You're alright," she breathed, holding onto his neck with an iron grip. "You're OK."

"It worked," he said into her hair. "Thanks to you, it worked." He felt tears prickle his eyes, all the stress and fear from this year flowing from his body.

He was free of the Dark Lord. They wouldn't look for him. He'd done what he said - his parents would be as safe as they could be. He had the girl he'd loved for years in his arms. And -

"I love you," she said into his neck, her breath hot against his skin.

He closed his eyes and pulled her closer. "Gods, I love you, too."

She stilled, and then she softened against him. She loosened her hold on his neck to take his face in her hands. She pressed a kiss to his lips. "You're safe." She kissed his cheek. "You're free." She kissed his other cheek, her own cheeks covered with tears.

"I know you can't stay with me," he said, pressing his forehead to hers. "But - "

"I'll stay tonight," she said. "McGonagall will give me an excuse. And then. Then, I'll come every day after meals, between classes. Just a few weeks until school is over." She pressed her lips to his. "I've already spoken to McGonagall. I can bring you homework, and my notes, so you stay caught up." He groaned against her lips and she smiled.

"You'll stay tonight?" he asked, choosing to ignore that, even in exile, he'd have homework. She nodded and pulled him toward the bedroom. Kicking her shoes off, she crawled on top of the covers and held her arms out to him. They'd never done this, slept in the same place, except accidental naps while they worked in the Room. The sight of her lying on a bed, asking him to lie next to her, stirred feelings he hadn't let himself feel. But now wasn't the time for that.

Shoes off, still in button down from the day, he crawled onto the bed next to her.

With a flick of her wand, the lights in the room were extinguished. They rolled toward one another, his knee slipping between his, arms wrapping around each another, a tangle of arms and legs and breath.

In the dark, he still could still see the brilliant flash of the cabinet exploding, still felt the lack of noise where there should have been noise. Still saw the blood.

Her hands left his side and her fingers carded through his hair. "I'm sorry you had to do this," she whispered, her thumb running along his cheek.

"I'm not," he said, surprised that he meant it. "It was horrible, really horrible, but it was for something good. Wasn't it?" His voice trembled and he felt her sigh against him. For so long he'd been on the wrong side. It was terrifying switching to the right one.

"It was," she reassured him. "But that doesn't make it less hard," she said as her nose bumped into his. "But, I'm with you. For all of this. All the way. You're not alone."

"Are you sure?" he asked, thinking back to that night when all this started, when she'd agreed to help him escape into a new future. And just like before, she seemed to understand all that he was implying, all that he was asking of her.

"I'm sure," she said as she kissed him once, a firm press of lips.

The lay that way for a long time, staring at one another in the low moonlight from the window, until they drifted off to sleep, wrapped together.