Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

A/N: I hope you guys minded the tags...

Chapter 3

Hermione

I made sure that the blade was within reach as Draco backed away from my body. I would have precious few minutes to stab it into Tom Riddle's throat. It all came down to that moment, the threat of being used in a ritual to appease an old, false God and whether we could end the life of a monster who haunted our dreams. I wouldn't feel guilty for ending his life. I would do it proudly. I would do it for Scorpius.

There was a lot of chanting. It started off quietly and made its way through the chamber around me. The thrum of its energy powered through me, sped up my heartbeat and made me feel sick to my stomach. When Tom stood at my side, bile rose in my throat. He removed his robes and I wondered how he wasn't embarrassed to be seen in the nude by all of his followers. His body was scarred, barely human in all its markings. I wanted to retch just looking at him and when he kneeled at my hip I had to force myself to keep my eyes trained on him. I didn't want to be here, didn't want to be part of it. But it was our only chance, the only way to secure a future for Scorpius that meant he wouldn't have to fight for his life at every turn.

My eyes found Draco. He ducked his chin and I stole a steadying breath.

Riddle leaned over me. His hands found the break in the ceremonial robes at my thighs and he pushed the material to the side. I brought my eyes to his black, soulless gaze and stretched my fingers over the silver knife at my side. It scraped against the stone dais where we lay and I held it up over his body. My first mistake.

As I plunged the dagger down toward his body, Riddle grabbed my forearm and held the blade away from himself. I used all of my strength, scrunched up my face, planted my feet against the cement, and twisted myself to try and fight off his hold.

He wouldn't relent. Riddle's face smashed down onto mine and I heard the crunch of my nose under his forehead. I cried out and lost my grip on the knife for only a second. The second was long enough. The blade clattered to the dais and then I was entirely at Riddle's mercy.

The crowd around us murmured. They asked instructions from their master.

"Stay back!" He hissed at them without taking his eyes from me. I tried to knee him off of me. It was futile. "She belongs to me ."

I cried as I shoved at him, but he pushed my hands above my head. His knee pushed between my legs and I scratched at his hands, kicked at his body, twisted around in his grasp. Nothing worked. He overpowered me so very easily. It was how I was going to die, used for a ritual to cleanse the earth for this fucking cult that had ruined everything. Scorpius, Draco, Harry, Dean – everyone I loved was going to fight this war for the rest of their lives and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

His hand clawed at my thigh and I sobbed. My body fell limp.

Someone shouted above me. A spray of warm liquid splashed across my face. Riddle's hands on me relaxed. It took a second for my brain to register the knife sticking out of his neck. When his body slumped forward, forehead thumping just shy of my head, Draco towered over the dais. His face was stitched with pure rage, bared teeth, hands covered in bright, dripping blood. He reached forward and pulled me from the dais.

"We have to go – now."

I scrambled to stand. I couldn't think clearly. Draco pulled me through the crowd. Hands grabbed at us. A crowd chased us. I tripped over my feet but still he didn't relent his grip.

"We. Have. To. Go."

"Did you – did you just –" I stumbled after him and winced as sharp rocks tore against the leather soles on my feet.

"There isn't time, Hermione. Fucking hurry up!"

It was the first time I noticed he was shaking. His hands were slick in mine, blood and sweat mixed in the palms of his hands. His long legs carried us out of the wooden confines of the village. But I couldn't find it in myself to be scared.

We did it.

We killed Tom Riddle.

Draco

We arrived at the stables—bruised, exhausted...and elated.

"We did it," whispered Hermione. "We killed him." She sank down the wall, a smile of disbelief on her face. A streak of dried blood under her jaw cracked and flaked.

I reached over and brushed the blood off her. "We did it," I repeated in awe.

Her brow wrinkled as she glanced at the empty stalls. "Are you sure it's safe for us to be here?"

I nodded. "I wiped this location from their memories—the men who hunted you down. And from Dolohov. Pettigrew. They were the only ones who knew about this place."

Hermione sighed, a long and heavy release. When she opened her eyes, there was a lightness to them I'd never seen before. "We're free."

Her words lifted a weight off my chest, and for the first time in my life, I could breathe.

Riddle was gone; without his leadership and fanaticism, the Church of Valentine would crumble. My Muggleborn love and half-blood son would no longer be persecuted.

I could spend every day with my son. He would no longer look at me like I was a stranger.

We could finally be together as a fami

Scorpius

That was all. The journal cut off, but it didn't stop Scorpius from turning the page anyway to see if somehow, miraculously, something else was written. He knew the story, knew the fate of his parents, and yet, he tried to find more of his parents' words in the little journal.

He stole a breath.

"What's next, Scorpius?" A squeaky, teenaged voice asked him excitedly.

Scorpius glanced to the half-circle around him. All the children his age, the newest recruits in the fight against Valentine's Disciples. A war that should have been over. A war that had already taken so much from him. He wet his lips and flipped the journal closed and rested his forearm on top of it as he leaned into the group of recruits.

"That's it," he told them hoarsely. "Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were murdered after killing Tom Riddle."

Something in his chest tightened at saying the words out loud. He knew the story, he had to remind himself. Wishing for another outcome wouldn't change anything – that's what Harry always told him.

"They died ?" A young girl with black hair asked with a wobbly lower lip. "That's a horrible story!"

"No!" Scorpius shouts at the recruit and then lowers his voice. "It's important to understand their sacrifice. You must understand – these two heroes killed the most evil man to live. They ended one of the darkest parts of the age."

"But," a redhead boy spoke up and chewed on his lip, "but why are we still at war if the leader was killed fifteen years ago?"

Scorpius laughed, a humorless thing that hung in the air of the small tent they were cramped in.

"The death of Tom Riddle created a power void. With no one leading the Disciples after his death, it created chaos. Bands of Disciples who carry out evil in the name of their sacrificed leader Tom Riddle." Scorpius spat the name. "They're growing bolder every single day. Worse now that Lucius Malfoy has officially succeeded Riddle."

"They killed my dad," a little girl with braids in her hair said sadly. "Harry said that my dad was one of the bravest men he ever knew, but all I remember is that his name was Dean and he… died."

Scorpius stood and clasped the ratty journal in his hands. Harry entered the tent, ducking his head under the low frame, and stood to the side with his arms crossed over his chest. He smiled at Scorpius, a silent encouragement to continue.

"By our calculations, there are only a handful of followers of the High Priest left. After Malfoy, the worst of them is Bellatrix Lestrange. She's been quite mad ever since her husband was killed by The Order."

"Isn't that how Lady McGonagall lost her arm?"

"I heard she tortured Baron Zabini until he went mad!"

A murmur broke out amongst the new recruits. Scorpius settled them with shushing sounds and glanced helplessly to Harry, who did nothing to step in and help.

"Yes." He caught the worried eyes of each of the legacy children and nodded. "That is why it's important that we continue what our parents have started, that we finish their war, and take out the cult once and for all. No one else will ever suffer the way that our elders have. We'll never lose family ever again."

The words had the desired effect. The legacy children all nodded their agreement, whispered to each other with vindication laced in their words. They would wear the mantle of their elders. They would end the war that their parents – Scorpius' parents – could not.

They filed out of the tent, but Scorpius stayed behind with Harry who clapped him on the shoulder. His piercing green eyes held his gaze and he stayed quiet for several moments. So many memories, a plethora of feelings, thrummed between them. Scorpius swallowed and fidgeted with the journal in his hands.

"Those kids look up to you," Harry said finally as his hand fell away from Scorpius' shoulder. "You have a way of motivating them."

Scorpius half-smiled and glanced to the ground, unable to hold Harry's intense gaze. "I – I miss them, Harry. I can barely remember mum. And dad is almost like a figment of my imagination. I—"

Scorpius' eyes stung with tears and he swiped at his eyes furiously. He didn't want to cry over them, not anymore. He'd done enough of that over the past fifteen years. He'd lived more of his life without them now than with them and it hurt just as intensely as it did when Harry first told him what happened to his parents.

"They loved you so much, Scorpius." Harry's voice was quiet, almost a mumble as he eyed the journal in Scorpius' hands. "I knew them well. Your mum was my best friend. When she found Draco, something about her changed. She was happier, she fought harder."

His tears fell freely. Scorpius both wanted to hear more and didn't want Harry to continue. His heart was a slow, steady beat against his sternum and his stomach was knotted in his gut. Hearing about his parents was the hardest part of the war, and it felt awful to think so.

"Scorpius, your parents –"

God, how he wished those words would be followed by 'are alive and in hiding'. His heart soared for a split second, and then crashed down again.

"They would have been so proud of the man you've become." Harry dug his thumb into his shoulder and stood awkwardly staring at him for several moments. He ducked his chin, offered a tiny smile, and then exited the tent the same way he came in.

Scorpius stayed behind and wiped at his eyes. He placed the journal to his forehead and spoke to his parents, much like he'd done every day since he'd received their journal out of the stables they'd been discovered murdered in all those years ago. Perched on an old cot, Scorpius cracked open the journal to page one again, and smiled down at his mother's curvy handwriting.

It's been four weeks since I saw him last. Four weeks since our eyes met for the last time. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and so my heart's devotion will only grow stronger over time.

It beats for two now.

I can't wait to tell Draco —

A/N: Infinite love to Frumpologist (or TheFrumpologist here on FFN)! Please go check out her work, she's amazing!

Thanks so much for reading! Reviews are appreciated!