Here it is, kids! Just one more chapter after this, and I think it'll probably be more of an epilogue. But we'll see. Sorry this took so long to be written, last week we hosted the Canadian Open Championships at work, and they kept me quite busy, and this week I've been busy working on an essay about pedestrian precincts and integration with modern transportation. Fun stuff. Also, it's my birthday on sunday, so I've been preparing for that as well. Anyway, here's chapter 11! I know the end feels a little like an end, but it's not the end... yet. Please review!
Oh, and I have finally started writing the final chapter of Catalyst, that should be up soon, and I'm planning another big DM/HG fic, which I've already begun writing, but I am contemplating finding a beta. Read my profile for details if anyone's interested. :)
Sorry, here it is! (Love reviews!)
-
Hermione was frustrated. For the last few days, Blaise had been stubbornly refusing to tell her anything about Malfoy. She had seen the bloody mark with her own eyes, there was no denying its existence any longer, and still Blaise wouldn't speak of it.
Her irritability was compounded by the fact that she hated being upset with Blaise. They were due to leave Hogwarts forever the next day, and she most certainly did not want to part on bad terms, as she didn't particularly know how long it would be until she saw him again.
It was this part that made her more than irritable. It made her sad, anxious, hurt. She could scarcely imagine life without the quirky Italian.
That is, when he wasn't intent on deliberately keeping her in the dark.
Malfoy, she had been avoiding entirely. Though he had tried once, approaching her with wild eyes, she had simply ignored him and walked away. A part of her still couldn't believe that after all she had witnessed of him this year, he was an official Death Eater.
She hadn't wanted to reveal the fact to Harry and Ron, who she knew would take it much worse than even she, and so had kept it bottled within herself.
"Hermione!" She turned at the sound of her voice, stomach jumping to see Blaise hurrying toward her, his hair in every direction, his eyes bloodshot.
"Yes?" she asked, rather curtly.
"Please don't be like this," he murmured, lifting a hand to her face. "You know if I could, I would explain everything to you. It's not my story to share."
"I know," she sighed. Finally relenting, she took Blaise's hand in hers. "What did you need?"
"There have been some... developments. You might want to sit." Hermione suddenly noticed an odd look in Blaise's eyes. If she didn't know any better she'd call it fear. She led Blaise to a nearby classroom, sitting on a table while waiting for him to speak. He paced, as if trying to determine the best way to begin.
"Well, here," he murmured, drawing two sheets of parchment from his pocket. "Read this one first. Received it at breakfast."
It was from Blaise's mother. Hermione faintly recognized the elegant cursive.
Blaise,
I have owled Lucius Malfoy. He has arranged for you to be given your Mark one week following your return from Hogwarts. Draco will know the specifics.
It wasn't signed. Cold and formal. As Hermione had come to associate with Blaise's family.
"We expected something along those lines, didn't we?" she murmured, trying to discount her concern for Blaise through the fact that this alone wouldn't have him looking like a paranoid insomniac.
"Yes," Blaise commented. He sighed. "This is what my mother didn't know. It's from Draco." At Hermione's look of hesitation and disgust, he frowned. "Read it. Trust me."
Granger,
There has long been talk of an attack on the horizon. The Dark Lord has decided that it will be tonight, at Hogwarts. A select few alone were told in advance to prevent the likelihood of a leak. However, he does not know that the Order has already been informed. Outside methods of transportation and communication are being cut off as you read this; it will be unwise to attempt to run. Do what you can, so that one day I might tell you the truth. Granger, long ago I told you things are not as black and white as you suspect. Trust to believe that.
Draco
Hermione didn't realize her hands were shaking until she looked up from the letter.
"This is real, then?" she questioned, softly. Blaise nodded quickly, as if afraid Dark forces would storm in at any moment. "And the Order know already? Who told them?"
"No clue," Blaise muttered, stepping toward Hermione. "But they're arriving already, getting through the barriers. I saw a few while I was looking for you."
Hermione bit her lip, meeting Blaise's dark eyes.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, softly. Blaise laughed, rather coldly. Hermione was taken aback.
"Well, seeing as my initiation," the word was said mockingly, "isn't for a week, I have no need to pretend as if I sympathize with the Death Eaters."
"Blaise, the Order..." she trailed off at his expression.
"I don't need protection, nor do I want it," he stated shortly.
"Blaise, this isn't about your pride! You can't just leave. You'll be forced into battle, we all will. I want to know you won't be a target to both sides!" Hermione was suddenly feeling the shock that had been threatening her since she'd read Malfoy's letter, her eyes welling with hot tears. Blaise said nothing, pointedly ignoring her gaze.
"You simply cannot be neutral, Blaise," Hermione continued, desperation tinging her voice now. "If you refuse to fight with the Order, and–" She choked, unable to imagine him fighting for the other side. "Maybe at one time neutrality was an option, but–"
"Hermione," Blaise cut her off sharply. "Do you think I don't know this?"
"I... suppose," she said, flatly.
"I haven't slept properly in weeks," Blaise murmured, "because I know that. And yet I did everything I could think of to avoid having to admit it to myself. The pressure from both sides has been at me more than I ever wanted, and I've been driven up the wall but there's nothing for it."
"Blaise," Hermione murmured, biting her lip. He collapsed onto the table next to her, taking her hand, his expression lost. He looked broken. She knew this was what Draco had been talking about, at the pub that night, before everything had fallen apart. When he had said Blaise was about to crash..
"Hermione," Blaise cast back, offering her a wry smile. "I have put so much thought into this, and do you want to know the only damn thing that keeps coming to mind?"
"Sure," she replied, in a suddenly small voice.
"You." Blaise frowned slightly, observing her. He gave her hand a squeeze. Hermione's heart jolted, speeding up as she met his eyes.
"Just me?" she questioned, feeling odd.
"I'm going to fight with you," Blaise stated, stronger. "Because that's what my heart says to do."
"And your brain?" she asked, hesitant to hear the response.
"For the most part, agrees."
Hermione wasn't entirely sure what to think. Blaise had adamantly refused to join her side, and she knew he didn't want to be a Death Eater. A part of her had always assumed that, if forced to choose, it would be easier for him to follow his house to battle.
"What about Malfoy?" Hermione questioned. She suddenly felt a wave of pity for the blond whose best mate was sitting with her, declaring his allegiance to her rather than him. His written words echoed in her head. Things are not as black and white as you suspect...
"Draco knows," Blaise murmured. "Merlin, I wish I could explain it all to you." Hermione swallowed deeply, looking over at him.
"I understand," she commented. Though she didn't like it.
Blaise stood once more, tugging her up with him.
"Come," he murmured, and they left the room, Hermione curiously trailing along. "It feels weird knowing what's coming in a couple hours' time. You should probably get to your house."
"Probably," Hermione replied, though her grip on Blaise tightened and she walked closer to him. He wrapped an arm around her waist.
Blaise led her to Gryffindor Tower, but stopped one hallway away, turning to Hermione.
"I've got to get down to Slytherin for a bit," he murmured, his eyes narrowed slightly. It made Hermione feel as if he were looking through her. He ran a hand through his hair, resting it on her back, pulling her close to him.
"Well, look," he murmured, and Hermione realized with a start that he was nervous. "I imagine this is probably the least opportune and romantic way to say this." Hermione's eyes widened; she forgot to breathe. "These past months, with you... they've been amazing. I can't help this feeling that if I don't say this now, I may not get the chance, and... ah, fuck it." He looked her square in the eyes now. "I'm in love with you, Hermione."
Hermione froze, temporarily speechless. Then his words hit her, and she grinned, throwing her arms around his neck.
"I love you too, Blaise," she whispered into his ear. Hearing the words from her own lips made her feel incredibly light. After an extended period, she pulled away, looking at him sternly. "Although you really shouldn't speak like that. I know I for one plan on making it through this. And you had better be there with me."
Blaise rolled his eyes, muttered "you're crazy," and kissed her. And just for the moment, Hermione forgot about the terrors of the war that were knocking at the door. All too soon she found herself facing Gryffindor Tower.
The next hours passed by in a blur of frantic preparations, and Hermione didn't have time to feel an onslaught of fear before she found herself in the Great Hall, surrounded by students, Order members and professors. How the Order had been informed, Hermione still wasn't sure. But she would never presume to know all of their secrets, anyway. What really mattered was that they knew. And that they were afforded with no less than a fighting chance.
-
Hermione was stalking a Death Eater. It probably wasn't the wisest thing she'd ever done, but hell, she had a feeling about this. She had lost track of Harry and Ron somewhere in the castle, and hadn't seen Blaise in a long time. One side of her had wanted to panic; then she had seen a solo Death Eater skirt through the battle, and had been intrigued. Curiosity won over panic, and there she was.
The majority of the Death Eaters hadn't yet breached the castle. Most of the battle was going on in the grounds. Hermione knew she was likely to lose her mind at the sight of friends, familiar students, professors, who may never stand again. She was fighting with every fibre to retain her sanity. Hermione had always found the best way to do that was the keep herself occupied.
This Death Eater was headed to the kitchens. She disillusioned herself quickly, sneaking in behind. It wasn't until she was closer, looking harder, that she noticed he was limping. He collapsed into a seat, cursing, but the voice was muffled through his mask.
He stretched a leg, moving the robes out of the way, and Hermione gasped softly. It was clearly broken, twisted and awkward looking.
"Who's there?" he snapped, having heard Hermione gasp. She froze, as he drew a wand. Gripping her own tightly, prepared to stun him, she jerked around at the sudden arrival of another presence.
"Relax, cuz," came an oddly cheerful voice Hermione recognized. "Just me." The Death Eater visibly relaxed.
Hermione's eyes widened as Tonks came into her line of sight, taking a seat next to the wounded Death Eater. She took a look at his broken leg and let out a low whistle.
"That can't feel good," she murmured, pulling out her wand. "Take off that damn mask, I hate seeing you like that, kid."
This time when Hermione failed to hold back a reaction, Tonks looked around suspiciously. The unmistakable shock of blond hair had thrown her off. And then Hermione was suddenly reminded that Narcissa and Tonks' mother Andromeda had been sisters. But what was Draco doing speaking with Tonks while the rest of the Death Eaters were out fighting?
Tonks had begun tapping at the bones in Draco's leg, as he winced slightly at the pain.
"Lucius?" she questioned, after a period of time. Draco grunted in response.
"Must've found out I told you about the attack," he murmured finally. "I was lucky to get away with any leg at all." He snorted. Tonks laughed faintly, continuing with her work.
"Regardless," Tonks said breezily, "I can't say how much we appreciated the heads up. Imagine, a full Death Eater onslaught against kids seventeen and under, with just a handful of professors." She was shaking her head in disgust at the thought.
"I said I'd let you know everything, didn't I?" Draco was smirking, despite the obvious pain he was in.
Hermione realized she was shaking quite a while after she'd began. Draco was a spy for the Order! She felt a sudden swell of relief in her heart; he wasn't so evil after all.
It hit Hermione some time later that she wouldn't be able to leave the kitchens until the pair of them did as well, unless she wanted to simply reveal that she'd been there the entire time. She somehow doubted Draco would take it that well.
"There," Tonks said finally. "It won't feel like if I was a Healer, but it'll do for now." Draco stood up, placing pressure on his previously wounded leg, and grinned.
"It's perfectly fine," he replied. Grimacing, he reached for his hood and mask.
"Come on," Tonks scoffed. "Don't go back out there with them."
"You know I'll be killed on the spot if I don't and one of them finds me," Draco murmured, eyes narrowed. "He's got to know it was me by now, there were only a few of us that knew the plan."
"More reason not to go out there," Tonks tossed back at him, looking very much like a reprimanding parent.
"Ah, Dora, but the best way to hide is to be in their midst." He winked as Tonks shook her head in disbelief.
"At least keep yourself safe so I can buy you a damn Firewhisky later," she muttered angrily as the blond put his mask and hood back over his distinctive hair and left the kitchens. Tonks followed shortly after. Finally Hermione exhaled, processing what she'd witnessed.
Then she went looking for Blaise.
-
Her search didn't turn up successful until some hours later, as the battle wound down. All around her people were exhausted, injured, grieving, but for the most part there was a surrounding feeling of victory.
Because Harry had defeated him, of course. Hermione had always believed he would; the only alternative was to abandon hope.
After she had caught up with Harry and Ron, both looking like they could use a good nights' rest, she bit her lip.
"Have either of you... have you seen Blaise?" Her eyes were wide; all evening her search had proved futile. She was starting to worry.
Harry and Ron shared a look, Harry's brows raised, Ron's face turning red. Hermione's heart plummeted through her stomach.
"What's happened?" Hermione asked, voice oddly high pitched.
"We saw Wood and Charlie taking him to the hospital wing," Harry said softly. "He... wasn't conscious."
"But was he–" she swallowed, unable to finish the thought.
"Oh, alive, yes," Harry said quickly. He shared another odd look with Ron.
"We think," Ron said. At Hermione's sudden green expression, her horrified eyes, Ron quickly added, "looked like he was breathing."
Hermione stared at them both for a moment, took a deep breath and left toward the hospital wing. She had a strong urge to be sick as she saw the rows of students lying on cots, some noticeably bleeding or injured, others who just looked to be sleeping. They unnerved her the most.
Before she could lose her nerve, Hermione hurried on, locating Madam Pomfrey.
"Where is Blaise Zabini?" she asked rather quickly, too anxious to bother with politeness. The nurse observed her for a moment, before sighing.
"He is in no fit shape for visitors. But I will let you see him for a moment." She turned and briskly walked in the other direction, Hermione following closely behind, terrified at what she might find.
Finally she saw him. He could've been sleeping, his brow slightly furrowed, but looking otherwise healthy. Hermione leaned close, running her hands lightly through his hair, pressing her lips to his forehead.
"What happened?" she asked, surprised to find she could speak in no louder than a whisper.
"The two young men who brought him in said they had come across him fighting three Death Eaters after the battle had already ended. They were... punishing him for betrayal." The nurse shook her head angrily.
"You mean, Crucio?" Her voice broke, and Madam Pomfrey nodded, frowning. "But he wasn't a Death Eater! Well, not formally at least." Her enthusiasm died out at the thought. The Death Eaters would have considered that betrayal either way.
"It's too soon to tell, at this point, what sort of long-term damage the curse may cause him, if any. I suppose we just need to be thankful he was found, before..." The nurse trailed off but Hermione knew perfectly well what she had meant to say. Before they killed him.
Hermione suddenly felt her eyes tearing up, feeling horribly claustrophobic in the hospital, surrounded by injured students. And Blaise. Voldemort was finally gone, she was supposed to be able to celebrate, and yet... she couldn't.
"How long will he be unconscious?" she choked out. Madam Pomfrey seemed too distraught to bother with making her leave, as she bustled over to another patient.
"It's difficult to say," the nurse murmured distractedly, "but it would probably be safe to attempt to wake him in an hour or so. Will you pass me that beaker, dear." Hermione blinked, slightly stunned, before handing Madam Pomfrey a beaker full of sky-blue liquid.
"Well, could you use a hand?" she asked, quietly. "I don't have much experience with healing, but there are quite a lot of students here." She wasn't sure why she had offered, but couldn't stand the thought of Blaise waking up alone.
"I think I could," the nurse said quietly. She set Hermione to work immediately, and Hermione did whatever task was asked of her, for fear that if she stopped working it would sink in who these patients were, and how she knew quite a few of them personally, and by helping them it made everything seem so much more hopeful...
Finally Pomfrey sighed, some time later, wiping her brow.
"They've all been taken care of for the immediate present," she proclaimed. Their work had increased significantly as more injured were still being brought in. To Hermione it had felt good to get her hands dirty and help out the woman who would otherwise have been frazzled and overwhelmed.
A few of them had even been awake and able to speak to Hermione. She smiled despite herself as Neville regaled his heroic battles while she bandaged his arm and shoulder.
Then the distraction she'd entertained for so long was gone, and all she could think of was Blaise. Pomfrey bustled to a cabinet and drew out a thin vial of black liquid. Without words she walked to Blaise's bedside and Hermione followed apprehensively.
"Don't be too alarmed if this doesn't work right away," she warned and Hermione nodded, biting her lower lip rather hard. She muttered a spell and poured the contents down his throat, before setting her wand down and crossing her hands. She stared down, and Hermione looked also, frantically.
It might have been two minutes, or it might have been twenty, for all Hermione could tell, but finally Blaise's eyes snapped open, falling unfocused on Hermione. After a moment his vision seemed to clear and he finally noticed she was there. He gave her a crooked grin, a murmured "hey" and Hermione came undone, throwing her arms around him, ignoring the wild protests of the nurse.
"Bit painful," Blaise managed in her ear and Hermione pulled back, horrified.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, covering her mouth.
"Don't be," he replied, grimacing slightly. "I'm glad to see you too." Pomfrey gently urged her aside, forcing another potion down Blaise's throat, for the pain and sore muscles.
After several minutes, Blaise was well enough to scoff at the fact that he was wearing hospital robes. Hermione had half-laughed, half-cried at his exclamation, but didn't dare touch him again until he was feeling better.
She sat down in the chair next to his bed, and finally Pomfrey went off to check on other patients, and Blaise turned to her with a serious look.
"Did you see Draco?" he asked, frowning.
"Not for hours," she admitted. "Did you?"
"No," Blaise shook his head. "Saw his father, though." At the dark expression on his face, Hermione gasped.
"Did he do this to you?" she asked, fighting to keep her voice low.
"And Dolohov, and Nott," he muttered. Seeing Hermione on the verge of tears, he grinned. "It wasn't pleasant, but I'm fine." He reached up to stroke her face, wiping away the tears that had formed. She sighed.
"I'm so glad. I've been so worried," she whispered. "Do you want me to go find Draco?" Blaise shrugged.
"Not just yet," he murmured, watching as Pomfrey hurried about. "I'm afraid of being alone with her." Hermione laughed, but then he sobered. "Look, I guess now that it's over, I can tell you... Draco isn't really–"
"I know," Hermione cut him off. "I saw him talking to Tonks."
"I wanted you to know the truth, but he refused to let anyone else know. The rest of the bloody Order didn't even know he was the one giving her information on the Death Eaters." Blaise shook his head. "He figured if you knew you'd tell Potter and Weasley, and then somehow word would get to the Death Eaters that he was playing spy."
"I figured as much," she smiled wryly. "I understand."
With significant effort, Blaise lifted himself up to rest on his elbows, then he leaned forward and pulled Hermione to him for a kiss. Just then the doors slammed open and Hermione tore herself away, looking to the commotion. Madam Pomfrey rounded on the intruders, but then Harry and Ron came around the corner, grinning at spotting her.
"Hermione, have you been here this whole time?" Ron asked, before noticing the irritated look Blaise was giving him. "Er, Zabini." The Slytherin nodded in response, then turned to look at Harry with a calculating gaze.
"Good fighting out there, Potter," he murmured. Harry blinked, taken aback.
"Thanks, it's good to see you're alright," he said back. Hermione beamed at them both.
"Oh Hermione, guess what," Harry suddenly said, grinning. "We've managed to round up all but a few Death Eaters. A couple escaped but we'll track them down." Hermione's eyes brightened at the news. Then she suddenly froze, looking at Blaise, who was frowning.
"What about Malfoy?" she asked, quietly. The grin slid from Harry's face.
"He was in the mask and everything, Herms," he muttered, looking uneasy. "I know you and him were okay there for a bit, but he's still a Death Eater."
"He isn't," she countered immediately. "Where is he?"
"We're not sure," Ron broke in while Harry looked confused. "Might've taken him to the Ministry, or might've gone straight to Azkaban." Hermione watched as the colour drained from Blaise's face.
"He was feeding information to your side," Blaise hissed, suddenly wincing as he fell back. Hermione stabilized him and offered him another dose of the pain killing potion.
"He– he was?" Harry questioned, hesitating.
"Yes, even ask Tonks," Hermione added.
"Tonks has been taken to St. Mungo's," he informed them and Hermione's eyes shot open wide. "She's going to be fine, we just figured this place had to be full enough."
"Well, when is the trial?" Blaise asked, looking anxious.
"There were a lot of Death Eaters left, mate," Ron informed him grimly. "There's talk of not giving trials to the ones who don't have a shot anyway."
"That's outrageous!" Hermione shouted, blushing as Pomfrey shushed her, lowering her voice. "Draco most certainly has a shot at being let off. He's seventeen, for Merlin's sake!"
"His father made his name a lot of enemies, Hermione," Harry said quietly. Hermione fell silent, shaking her head. She exchanged a grim look with Blaise. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Time to go," Madam Pomfrey said sternly as she rounded on the group. Ignoring their complaints, she shooed them off, giving a sharp nod of thanks to Hermione.
"I'll see you tomorrow, then," she muttered to Blaise, before he tugged her in for a real kiss, and Hermione trailed reluctantly after Harry and Ron. Out in the hallway, however, she was suddenly eager to hear all about what had happened to them during the long, eventful day. The three were up late, finally succumbing to deep sleep in front of the fire in Gryffindor Tower, not even bothering to change.
-
It was finally time to go. The train had been delayed a few days for various memorial services, and to allow the injured time to recover before sending them home.
Draco hadn't returned, and Blaise had been rather subdued from that night to the time when they were to depart. Hermione hated to think of Draco in a cell in Azkaban, especially after he had risked everything to warn them of the attack. She had asked McGonagall, however, and determined that Draco had received his NEWTs in every subject, regardless.
She was determined to secure him a trial, and when he got out, he would undoubtedly be glad to learn he had at least finished his education. Or so Hermione assumed. How she was going to secure him a trial, she wasn't sure yet.
Blaise suddenly came up behind Hermione, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her forehead.
"Hello," he murmured as Hermione sunk back into his warmth, smiling.
"Are you all set?" she asked, and Blaise laughed, smirking.
"I've been ready to leave this place since I set down my quill after that last NEWT." Hermione turned to see his face, staring him down.
"You honestly aren't going to miss it?" she sighed, giving the castle a wistful look.
"Sure I'll miss it," he brushed it off, grinning, "but think how much there is still to see."
Hermione smiled absently, thinking over his words. Since the war Blaise had changed, as far as she could see, though it had only been a few days. Whereas before he had been determined to avoid speaking of the future, he had already sent out several owls about jobs, one in particular to the very job he had needed his transfiguration NEWT for, about which Draco had enlisted her aid.
And he had begun to plan out his summer, and Hermione wasn't sure how he was going to be quite so busy traveling while working, provided one of his applications worked out.
But on the other side, a part of Blaise had changed that day. She had spent the last two nights with him before leaving, and while he had previously slept like a rock, the case was no longer so. She could feel him tossing in the night, his grip on her tighter than usual. It bothered her, but there was only so much she could do. He wasn't ready to speak about it, so she wasn't ready to force him to.
And she hadn't quite decided what was next for her. She wasn't in any huge hurry. But some part of her had really enjoyed helping out in the hospital wing, and she vowed to look into Healing.
"Come on," Blaise was saying, pulling her away from the school. She hadn't even noticed the carriages pull up. "One of these days you'll get so lost in your thoughts I won't be able to find you," Blaise teased. She grinned back.
"You know me," she said apologetically, climbing into the nearest carriage.
"That I do," he replied. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, letting her eyes slip shut. When they got to Hogsmeade station, Hermione saluted the distant castle while Blaise laughed at her.
Then she dragged him toward the Heads' Compartment and attacked him.
-
Some time later there was a soft knock on the door. Hermione stood to open it, and was surprised to see Harry standing there, peering in.
"Potter," Blaise said in greeting as Hermione took a seat next to him again.
"Hey Zabini," he murmured, turning to Hermione. "I wanted to show you this. I'm about to send it off with Pig."
He handed her a sheet of parchment, and as Hermione read, her eyes widened in disbelief. It was a letter to Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic, calling in a personal favour from Harry Potter that Draco Malfoy be granted a fair and proper trial.
She looked into Harry's green eyes as Blaise glanced over the letter, looking rather shocked as well.
"Thank you," she murmured genuinely. "I'm sure that wasn't easy."
"Potter, that's..." Blaise trailed off, at a loss for words, but Harry understood. He nodded sharply and Blaise grinned.
"I told Ron and Ginny I'd be right back. Just thought you two ought to know," he forced a smile and left again, with a "see you at the station."
Hermione sighed, settling back into Blaise's arms, finally feeling as if things might start being okay sooner rather than later.
Then before she knew it, they were back in London, and Hermione, hand in Blaise's, suddenly breathed the air, and it felt a little different than it always had.
