Chapter Nine

Draco's Task

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Luna stayed close by Hermione. Wherever she went at least one of them were by her. Especially Ron - he rarely left her alone. The only solitude she could find was in her dormitory. Like she had when she was seeing Draco she did all of her homework there. Parvati, Lavender, and the other girls rarely bothered her. They harbored their grudge against Hermione for betraying their house.

Draco's name was taboo among them. No one spoke of him, or the past relationship she had with him. The way they acted like nothing had changed was so forced someone could see a spark of tension in the air. It was another reason she tried to escape them.

In her classes she paid no mind to the blonde haired boy. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her movements with interest, but she pretended as though she didn't notice. As though she didn't care. She did care. She cared too much.

That night in her bed while her roommates slept she was immersed in her essay of ancient Egypt, and a possible Goblin rebellion there. It was easy enough considering that she read about it years before hand. It was a good thing too, as she was sure that she would have to help Harry, and Ron as she always had to do. Without her she didn't know how they would pass, one day perhaps she would make them stand on their own.

Beside her was a sharp, but quiet hooting. She pulled back her curtain, and saw a haughty eagle owl perched on her nightstand with an envelope in his beak. Draco's owl. Her heart leapt, and inwardly she reprimanded herself for it. She took the envelope ripping it open only glancing out of the open window where a cool breeze blew through.

H.G.

Meet me at the One Eyed Witch statue as soon as possible. This will burn after you read it.

D.M.

She read the letter over, and over again. By the eleventh time when she decided that she wasn't misconstruing it in any way she realized she should have felt happy he wanted to see her, but she wasn't. This was too good to be true. They ended it. She ripped the letter into shreds holding the pieces in her fist.

She scolded herself the whole time as she threw the confetti into the heater it bursting into flames, and dying quickly.

She dressed in jeans, a shirt, and her school robe. Securely she stuck her wand in her back pocket, and crept out of her dormitory. Lavender was snoring, something she hadn't noticed before while she was writing. If that wasn't enough hint that it was late the common room was deserted. She breathed a sigh of relief that none of them were waiting for her.

If only they knew what she was doing...


Draco paced behind the One Eyed Witch statue. He couldn't believe he was doing this. What he was about to do... Her friends would murder him for. It was the only way, the safest way.

He gripped his left forearm. There was nothing there, he hadn't been branded with the Dark Mark. Yet. Next year he would if he survived the war. If Voldemort won. Nothing was certain in the crazy world. He swore he would never like Granger, but when Granger became Hermione, he fell in love, another thing he swore he wouldn't do. He couldn't be sure of anything anymore. The only task he was going to die to complete was not one of the Dark Lord's, but of his own. He had to protect Hermione. If it was the last thing he did he would make sure she survived what was coming tomorrow night.

He stopped pacing immediately when he heard a second set of footsteps. They were softer, a slower rhythm. Hermione's footsteps. He leaned against the wall crossing his arms over his chest as if he hadn't been nervously twitching the whole time waiting for her.

Hermione appeared around the statue. Her bushy brown hair, deep brown eyes, pink lips, soft pale skin. She was beautiful as always.

"Draco?"

He pushed away from the wall, and his body acted on auto-pilot. He wasn't aware of what he was doing until he was holding her tightly around her waist burying his face in her air. He shouldn't have done it, but it might've been the last time for both of them. He kissed her cheek moving quickly to her lips. He half-expected her to shove him off, but she answered his kisses just as eagerly.

Stepping forward she stepped back. He enveloped her against the wall, his fingers digging bruises into the flesh of her hips. He drew his attention to her neck, and bit down hard. She didn't cry out in protest, but moaned. He was going to leave his mark on her. She was going to be his in some sense. This part of her would always be his. Whether he lived, or died tomorrow he would be hers. To the end of time this part of him would belong to no one else. No matter who came, or went, they would be each other's in some way.

Death... It was going to come. People were going to die. That's why he was there. With every bit of his inner strength he broke their session. He rested his cheek on hers, listening to their labored breathing for a minute, her chest heaving against his in torture.

"Hermione...?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

He grabbed her hand. "Come with me." He led her to the back of the statue, and took out his wand tapping it on the witch's hump. "Dissendium." They stood back as the hump opened to reveal darkness. It was pitch black.

"Draco, how did you know -"

He sniggered. "You think only the Weasley twins know the secret passages?" He snorted. "Right, I know just as much as they do."

"This leads to Honeydukes."

"I know."

"Why are we going there?"

"You said you trusted me, Hermione," he reminded her. He tugged on her hand, and only a second did she not move, and then she was following him down the cold steps into the icy atmosphere that was below the school. They lit their wands to show the grimy path.

They walked on for miles. She shivered next to him, and he circled his arm around her waist hoping his heat could be of some help. Beads of sweat gathered at his hairline trickling down his face. He was nervously hot.

The further they went the slower she became, her steps stumbling. He glimpsed at her seeing her eyes glassy like a roll of clouds over the sun. He knew what was coming, and caught her just in time as she fell, her wand falling from her fingertips clicking with the wood on stone sound below.

Draco positioned her to his side carefully picking up her wand. He scooped her up, and continued walking, the two wands in his hold. Though he wished so, there was no time to stop, and rest. "It's okay," he whispered to her. "We're almost there. You'll be able to sleep soon."


Vaguely aware that she was in his arms, Hermione slipped in, and out of consciousness. The chill of the air crawled over her skin. A thin layer of sweat shined on her face. The air was thin, and she couldn't breath, but that might not have anything to do with the air as much as her lungs were weak, the compression on her chest keeping her from inhaling as much sweet air as possible. She was numb. She couldn't feel anything but that small pressure. She tried to feel for Draco only catching the materiel of his shirt, but it slipped from her clutches easily. Her senses were too dull.

Suddenly she felt a gust of warmth. Somewhere in her mind she acknowledged that they were at their intended destination, but that too like Draco's shirt slipped from her. Her mind couldn't hold anything for too long.

Hermione was being put down somewhere hard, and cold. It felt like the stone floors in Hogwarts. That couldn't be it. They left Hogwarts. Didn't they? She groaned in complaint.

"Hermione? Can you hear me?" Draco's anxious voice tried to reach her, but it sounded so far away like she was underwater trying to listen to sounds that were in another world entirely. "Hermione, I'm going to leave this note here with you. It explains everything."

Something heavier laid on top of her, something wet touched her cheek, footsteps echoed until they disappeared. She gasped, sucking in as much air as she could, but it hurt, it sent knives into her ribs, her heart. She was alone, but she wouldn't remember why when she woke.