A/N: I apologize, again, for my failure to produce quick updates. Having no computer of my own, I find it difficult to find the time and the means to continue writing. Luckily, this story is almost over and I'm finding much inspiration in the wake of watching the final installment of the Harry Potter films. Expect a much quicker update after this one. Anyway, let's not keep you waiting anymore. On with the show!

Chapter 10

Draco's insides froze. He literally felt as if he could not move a muscle.

No.

It took all of his self-control not to lunge at Greyback as he gave Hermione a hungry look. Weasel began protesting, trying to convince Bellatrix to take him instead. In normal circumstances, Draco would have rolled his eyes at the absurdity. It was quite obvious that they needed information and Hermione, being the brains of their operation, was the best candidate to give it to them. But seeing as he was so scared out of his wits, Draco refrained from pointing this out to the red-headed pauper.

He watched helplessly as Greyback escorted the two buffoons to the dungeons. As soon as they were out of sight, his Aunt Bellatrix turned to Hermione. Everything after that point seemed like it was happening in slow motion. He heard a high-pitched buzz in his ears, distorting Bellatrix's words. She wanted to know where they got that damned sword. He just knew those kamikaze twins would get her in trouble one day. Then the first hit was delivered and everything rushed back to him full force

Hermione hated the Cruciatus Curse. But she had never experienced one at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione could hardly think to breathe. Her screams were simply an automatic response.

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?" It took a second for Hermione to gather back her wits after having been hit with such torture and realize what Bellatrix was talking about.

"We found it," she sobbed. "We found it—PLEASE!" Her answer wasn't good enough as Bellatrix saw it fit to hit her with another curse. Hermione couldn't even remember hearing her utter the words; she must have had enough practice with the spell that she could now do it non-verbally. Fantastic.

As soon as she lifted off the spell, Hermione rolled over and was now facing Draco. He was so white and he looked as if he was about to vomit. Even in her exhaustion and pain, Hermione felt concern for his well being overtake her body. She looked him straight in the eyes and tried to silently thank him for not ratting out Harry. Don't worry about me, she wanted to tell him.

"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it!" Bellatrix spat. "You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!" Bellatrix hit Hermione with another spell and Hermione automatically screamed again. But this time, she tried not to close her eyes. She tried, instead, to focus on Draco. She could vaguely make out Ron yelling out her name, but it was Draco that kept her grounded. He looked as if he might start hyperventilating, but to his credit, did not turn away from Hermione, either.

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!" Hermione briefly looked away from Draco to take a glance at the wicked blade that Bellatrix was wielding. She gulped and once again, connected her gaze with Draco's. He was panicking, she could tell, by the rapid way that his chest was rising and falling with his erratic breathing. It's okay, she mouthed. I'll be fine. She tried to smile, but was cut off by the strongest curse Bellatrix had thrown yet.

Draco thought his ears would bleed as Hermione's screams echoed off the Manor walls. Bellatrix proceeded to pin her down and began attacking Hermione with her knife. Draco knew that knife; the cuts made by such a knife would not heal with magic. One simply had to wait until the body healed itself naturally and the pain would persist until it did. Draco wanted to scream out, but couldn't. He wanted to sob with his concern over the woman he loved, so strong and enduring so much just to keep her blundering friend safe, but he wouldn't. He wanted to run to Hermione and Apparate them both to safety, away from the war and all the pain, but he really, really shouldn't. So instead, he continued to watch as his secret, estranged girlfriend was tortured by his own flesh and blood.

"How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix screamed. Draco wondered if Hermione's ears would be permanently damaged, as close Bellatrix was to her screaming like that. But he shook the absurd thought away; now was not the time for such silly wonderings. "Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?" Bellatrix continued with her questioning.

"We only met him tonight!" Hermione sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault…It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!" Draco considered Hermione's story. Knowing those two prats, he wouldn't be surprised if the Trio had, indeed, broken into his aunt's vault. But he hoped that, if those two valued their lives at all, they had not taken Hermione into such a dangerous situation, especially considering how disastrous that plan turned out to be.

"A copy?" Bellatrix screeched. "Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find out easily!" Draco's head whipped towards his father so quickly, he might've gotten whiplash. He had almost forgotten that the other man was even in the room. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!" Draco gave his father a quick nod before glancing back at Hermione. As he walked away, towards the cellar, he could barely make out the word that Bellatrix had carved into her arm. There, in glistening, red blood, was the bold word, MUDBLOOD.

Hermione could no longer move her body was so exhausted from the torture it had to endure. She closed her eyes after Draco had left the room, hoping that Bellatrix would divert her attention away from her now that she would be talking to the goblin. At that thought, her eyes shot open again. The goblin would be able to tell Bellatrix that the sword was, indeed, the real one and Hermione would be killed for lying. Tears leaked out of her eyes, hoping that Draco would return soon so that she could at least try to convey how much she loved him before Bellatrix finished her off.

It seemed, though, that Bellatrix needed to kill time while waiting for her nephew to return with the goblin and proceeded to deal out a few more curses, seemingly for shits and giggles. There were no questions asked, simply rage behind her reason for such punishment. Hermione could no longer find the energy to scream and simply sobbed as Bellatrix doled out curse after curse. Finally, Hermione heard hurried footsteps, which she assumed meant Draco's return. Bellatrix finally turned away from Hermione and thrust the sword into the goblin's face, ordering him to determine if it was real or fake. Hermione was facing Draco once again, who was standing off to the side, looking torn between continuing to pretend that he didn't care for her or rushing to her side to make sure she was okay. Their eyes connected again and Hermione gave him a small, although pained smile. Draco returned it, very briefly, before allowing his face to return to the emotionless mask. He did not break his gaze, however.

I love you, she mouthed to him. Draco's nose flared and he looked as if he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from showing any outward emotion. But looking into his eyes, which had glossed over in his emotion, she knew that he still felt the same. He gave her a small nod as his answer, which was enough in these circumstances. With that assurance, she allowed herself to be overtaken by the exhaustion.

Almost a month had passed since the Golden Trio had been in his house and a minute didn't go by that Draco didn't think about Hermione. He wondered if she ever woke again. He wondered if the Disastrous Duo was getting her into more trouble. He heard something about someone actually breaking into Bellatrix's vault. He wondered if she was with them. He rolled his eyes at that last thought. Of course she was with them. He was beginning to think that she was just as suicidal as Potter, heading into danger with no thought as to their own well beings.

Draco sighed and looked out his window at the grounds below, wishing, not for the first time, that he could go outside for some fresh air. The Dark Lord did not take it well that they had had Potter and allowed him to best them once again and had confined the entire family to house arrest. He winced as he remembered the physical punishment doled out. He never regretted it more than now that he had taken the blasted Dark Mark. He decided that when all this was over, he and Hermione were going to run away and live in some rural countryside and live like Muggles until the day they died. He didn't believe that there was anything for him in the Wizarding world after this. They lived in a prejudiced society. After this war was over and Potter won, no one would want to associate with him or even hire him for any sort of work after having received the Dark Mark.

But, he realized, it wouldn't help Hermione if they lived like Muggles. She was going to be a war heroine. She would have offers of all sorts. She had the opportunity to become successful. Did he even want to try and convince her to give that all up? That he was more than enough for Heroine Hermione Granger? He shook his head. They couldn't stay together. He had to stop trying to pretend otherwise. Staying with him would be a dead end for her. The whole world would see it as blasphemy. By then end of the war, everyone would know that the Malfoys had housed the Dark Lord. No one would forgive him for it. He'd be lucky if he didn't end up in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Surely, Hermione knew all this, she was the smartest witch of her time, after all. Did she think all this through? How could she have possibly fallen in love with him, knowing that there was no possibility of them staying together?

He sighed again and pulled away from the window, flopping himself into his bed. He had to stop thinking so morosely. It wasn't helping him come up with any answers or solutions. Maybe he should just take a nap.

When Hermione woke, she was in a bed, in room she didn't recognize, and could hear the ocean waves crashing against each other outside her window. She stirred and her entire body felt sore. She stretched a bit and was about to get out of bed when the door opened to reveal Fleur Weasley, nee Delacour. She checked Hermione's injuries and Hermione winced as Fleur changed the bandages on her mangled arm.

"You'll have that scar forever, unfortunately," Fleur told her, apologetically. Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"Don't worry, I don't mind. It will be a reminder of how hard I had to fight in order to keep our world safe." Fleur returned her smile and stood.

"You are an extraordinary woman, Hermione Granger." She proceeded to clean up all her tools and left the room. Shortly after, Ron popped his head in and proceeded to tell her everything she had missed after passing out, including where they were and how Harry just finished burying Dobby the house elf. Hermione cried silently upon hearing this news. She liked Dobby and wished that she could have thanked him for everything he had done for them over the years.

Several weeks passed and they had succeeded in breaking into Gringotts and were now making their way down to Hogwarts via the secret passageway from the Hog's Head. Hermione felt a building anticipation as she neared the place that she had considered a home away from home for six years. They finally passed through the door and were almost immediately engulfed into hugs by their old friends. As they were bombarded with questions about their whereabouts, the feeling of finally being back where she belonged overwhelmed Hermione. She glanced at Harry, who looked pale and clammy. The seriousness of the situation returned to them and she nodded at Harry, telling him that she understood.

She listened while Neville and the rest of them protested and complained about Harry's adamant refusald to tell them what the three of them were up to and how he couldn't allow them to help. They were interrupted by the arrival of Luna and then, shortly after, Ginny came through the door. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the dumbstruck look on Harry face and remembered having the exact same feeling just weeks ago seeing Draco at Malfoy Manor.

After a few more moments of bickering about whether or not Harry needed help, Ron finally spoke up.

"Why can't they help?" Hermione considered this. It was true, they couldn't tell anyone what they were doing. But they didn't even know what they were looking for, and she voiced this aloud. "You don't have to do everything alone, Harry," she said, quietly. Harry seemed to consider everything they were suggesting and began to give orders. Hermione smiled as the tension on his shoulders seemed to lessen a bit.

Draco's heart was thumping so loudly in his ears, he was surprised that Crabbe and Goyle hadn't said anything about hearing it. Then again, it was, after all, Crabbe and Goyle. Shortly after he had fallen asleep, the burning in his left arm abruptly waked him. Potter is at Hogwarts. Draco blanched as he realized what this meant. Death Eaters were swarming all over the place. Anger briefly overshadowed the worry as he mentally cursed Harry Potter for getting Hermione into this mess and Hermione for allowing herself to become involved. He quickly donned his Death Eather garb, scowling the entire time, before meeting his father in the drawing room, from whence they Apparated to Hogsmeade.

It took some time to locate Crabbe and Goyle since the castle was in chaos. Apparently, Snape had fled and the students were all in panic. All around Draco, teachers were fighting Death Eaters and various Weasleys and their associates were popping out of nowhere. All Draco could focus on was the hard facts that would lead him to Hermione: Potter and co. were there and the rest of his goody-Gryffindor friends were hiding out in the Room of Requirement. He motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him to the seventh floor, put a Disillusionment Charm on all of them, then sat and waited. It wasn't long before the Trio came running up the corridor and a very familiar door appeared. Draco winced as he realized that they were in the Room of Hidden Things, where he had spent so much time during his sixth year. Draco pulled on his two imbecilic sidekicks so they knew to follow Potter, Weasley and Hermione. It took some time, as the room was even more cluttered than before, but they eventually found Harry.

"Hold it, Potter," Draco called out, his mother's wand raised. Potter turned to face Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. "That's my wand you're holding, Potter."

"Not anymore," Potter called back. "Winners keepers, Malfoy. Who's lent you theirs?" Draco gritted his teeth before answering.

"My mother," he answered begrudgingly. Potter laughed and Draco's ire grew. The useless banter went back and forth between the two buffoons next to him and the scar-headed freak across.

"Harry? Are you talking to someone?" All four head whipped around towards the noise and before anyone could say anything, Crabbe had dealt out the first curse.

Draco watched as the fifty-foot mountain of old junk began to topple over towards the Weasel. Draco froze as he heard a familiar, feminine scream. Before he could react, Potter steadied the pile and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Crabbe began to raise his arm again and with his Seeker reflexes, Draco's hand shot out to lower it.

"No!" Crabbe gave him an odd look and Draco had to come up with a quick excuse as to why he was stopped from inflicting pain on the Mudblood and the blood traitor. "If you wreck the room you might bury the diadem thing!" Draco gave himself a mental pat on the back for his quick thinking.

"What's that matter?" said Crabbe, ever the curse-happy idiot. "It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?" Draco rolled his eyes even though his excuse was pretty feeble and, not to mention, made up.

"Potter came in here to get it," he finally replied. "So that must mean—"

"'Must mean'?" Crabbe turned to him and Draco was shocked at the ferocity in his both his tone and his gaze. "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your dad are finished." Draco blinked and tried to hide his surprise at this turn of events. Great, he thought. Now I have a curse-happy buffoon with no one to control him loose in a cluttered room with Hermione just twenty feet away.

Potter made a quick movement and Crabbe aimed a Cruciatus Curse at him, but missed. He watched as the curse hit a stone bust of some ugly warlock and both the wig and the tiara it had been wearing soared through the air, getting lost in the pile of junk that Crabbe had tipped over. If Crabbe wasn't careful, all of them would get buried alive in this place.

"STOP!" Draco finally yelled. "The Dark Lord wants him alive—"

"So? I'm not killing him, am I? But if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants him dead anyway, what's the diff—" Crabbe was cut off by Draco pulling him out of the way of a Stunning Curse. He looked at Potter to retaliate when he realized that it was, in fact, Hermione who had thrown it. He stood stock still for a second, looking her over like she was a sight for sore eyes. She looked as if she had gained a little weight from the last time he had seen her, which meant that she had been eating regular meals. That was good. Other than looking as if she had fought a war, she looked well. He could see the faint lines marring the skin peeking out from under her sleeve and winced.

"It's that Mudblood!" Crabbe yelled, breaking Draco from his reverie. The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion and took ten years off his life. He watched as Crabbe raised his wand and knew what spell he was going to say before it happened. "Avada Kedavra!" The green light shot straight at Hermione who just barely jumped out of the way. Draco wanted to collapse in relief but something had to be done about Crabbe. Crabbe and Goyle both began aiming curses at Potter, knocking Draco over and his wand out of his hand in the process. Draco just barely had enough time to duck behind a three-legged wardrobe before another Stunning Spell sent off by Hermione could get him.

Hermione managed to stun Goyle and ran past him and towards the pile that the tiara had fallen into. Crabbe then followed, a manic, predatory gleam in his eyes as he followed after Hermione, wand out. Draco let out a cry as Crabbe began shooting flames out of his wand. Fiendfyre. Crabbe was a complete idiot who had no idea how to control such a complex spell. Draco's predictions proved right as Crabbe's face turned from manic to panicked as he realized that the fire had taken a life of its own. It began to lick at the surrounding piles of junk and head towards the Trio. Towards Hermione. Draco could only think of one thing to do.

"RUN!"

A/N: Yes, I took scenes out of the book, again, but added my own, fictitious emotions behind the actions. The next chapter will be more original, but I needed to use the events from the book to set up the next few, and last, chapters of this story. Thank you, for those of you who have stuck with this story for so long. I know it's hard, waiting and it sucks having to start from the beginning when it's been so long between updates that you've forgotten what it was about. Believe me, I know the feeling, it's happened to me, even writing this story. But I promise, it is almost finished and I'm already working on another story (NOT a sequel. I don't do those, just so you all know.) Anyway, I'll let you get on with your lives, or back to reading other stories if that's the case. Until next time, readers!