"But he could die. Please I'll do anything."
Hermione stood with Draco in the threshold between his bedroom and the hallway, feeling scared and stuck and determined all at the same time.
"I have to help him, Draco. This is my fault-" Hermione looked up at Draco her eyes wide. She was afraid of returning to the catacombs but she had no choice if she wanted to save Ron.
Draco squeezed her hand. The calming sensation of his touch poured through her, making her feel brave again. "It's not your fault, but I understand. Let's do this before I change my mind."
"We should tell Starry where we are going. So she can get us out if she needs to," said Hermione as they ran hand in hand down the stairs. It was strange to have Draco by her side in this way, strange to have him back her up. But she would be lying if she said she didn't appreciate it.
"She's probably in the kitchen."
Together they made there way through Malfoy Manor. A place that no longer haunted Hermione – a place that she realized had become a sort of home for her. A new beginning.
"Starry!" shouted Draco.
"Lucky! Starry!" Hermione joined in.
As they slid into the kitchen, they saw Lucky sweeping up the dust-covered floor.
"There you are," breathed Draco, his face flushed from running. He was an incredibly attractive man. There was no point in Hermione's hiding it anymore.
Lucky dropped his broom, his pale face twisting in confusion. "Kids, what's wrong?"
Draco swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing. Hermione should not have been so focused on Draco's physicality at present but she had just slept with him the night before. It was hard not to think about it; even at a time like this. "We have to go back into the catacombs."
Lucky's eyes widened. "Are you out of your minds?"
Hermione stared at Lucky. They'd developed somewhat of a friendship over the last months though she was closer to Starry. "My friend – he's – the house trapped him. I have to find a way to save him."
Lucky's attention turned to Draco, there was a familiarity between the two of them Hermione never noticed before. "Draco – this is a bad idea," said Lucky.
Draco nodded. "I know."
"But you're doing it anyway." Lucky's head tilted to the side.
Draco's grey eyes met Hermione's gaze, holding her there. "Yes." There was something final, complete, in what he said. A warmth burned inside Hermione she hadn't felt since before the war.
"Starry's not going to like it," replied Lucky.
Draco shrugged. "Don't tell her unless you have to."
"We need to get going – who knows how long he has." Hermione squeezed Draco's hand, feeling the rough skin against her smooth skin, letting it comfort her.
"If he's not already dead," said Lucky.
Draco glared at Lucky, the kitchen light flashing in his eyes. "I'm sure he's fine."
With that, they ran, fingers still locked, through the rest of the house and to the entrance of the catacombs. Hermione couldn't breathe. Terrifying memories of the last time they were down there flooded through her. She wasn't sure she could do it – then she looked up at Draco and knew she could do anything. Anything if she got to do it with him by her side.
"Together," said Draco, pulling her closer to him, forcing away any remaining loneliness.
Hermione nodded, gazing up at Draco, her stomach stirring with pride as she thought of how much he changed. "Together," she replied.
And she was no longer afraid.
Draco worked the complicated spell he had done months ago on Halloween and Hermione experienced a moment of deja vu. It seemed not so long ago that Draco and Hermione hardly knew each other. Now they'd grown close – emotionally and physically.
His arm reached back. Hermione wasn't sure at first what he was doing and then her heart clinched and her lips smiled. Draco was reaching for her hand. There was a strange intimacy in holding hand, a genuine acceptance. It almost scared her more than returning the catacombs but she couldn't turn him down. Hermione needed Draco – and, as she realized, Draco needed her too.
They needed each other.
Their fingers threaded together. With his cold skin against her warm skin, Hermione and Draco descended the dark stone steps into the damp, black endless halls that held a kind of darkness that chilled her blood.
"Nothing yet," breathed Draco as he flicked his wand, igniting the tip. Hermione could see the worry in the lines around his eyes an the creases in his normally smooth forehead.
"That's what we thought last time." Without thinking about it, Hermione squeezed Draco's fingers and he squeezed them back.
Draco swallowed. "We'll find Weasley."
Hermione nodded. No matter that it didn't work out romantically between her and Ron, he was still one of her best friends and the thought that anything bad happened to him, especially because of her, that was too much to bear. She could not let it be true.
"Ron!" she called out.
"Weasley. You down here?" shouted Draco.
"If only we knew where these catacombs actually led. We could just be going around in circles for no reason."
"I don't think we are. I mean there is a lot of dark magic down here. It had to be protecting something."
Doubt washing over her, Hermione said, "What if it's not? A lot of bad things happened in this place. That kind of magic doesn't just disappear. It hangs on. Maybe it's just everything you all and Voldemort did."
Draco's hand slipped away from Hermione's. "Everything I did."
That was a stupid thing to say, thought Hermione. She didn't mean it... did she? She couldn't. Not anymore. Not after she and him – but he had said to her. Said that he was a Death Eater. That he wanted to be one. A warmth of anger burned in her stomach, a bubble of acid bursting out of nowhere.
"I thought you were so proud of what you did."
His eyes blazing silver-hot, Draco grabbed Hermione's shoulders. "I never said that. Merlin, Hermione, do you really think that of me?"
"No – I – uh-"
"Fine. You know what I'm sorry I'm not a perfect little Gryffindor know-it-all."
"I'm not a know-it-all. And why should I feel bad about being smart? Just because you can't keep up!"
"You think you're smarter than me." Draco shook her. Hermione's eyes widened. "Is that what you think, mudblood?" he spat.
The rage slammed at Hermione's chest but she didn't let it out. Because she could hear the reckless anger in his voice, the bitterness in her own... it wasn't them...
Draco turned his back to her, his hand gripping his hair. "Hermione, I'm... I'm sorry... I."
"Hey, hey." Hermione's hand were on his back. She gently spun him to face her. Her hand fell on his cheek, her thumb stroking his cheekbone. "It's okay... I felt it too... it's this awful place. It's like having to wear those stupid horcruxes all over again."
Draco let out a weak laugh. When Hermione looked at him, she could see what she hadn't seen in awhile. The manor leaking its way onto Draco's flesh. His skin was a sallow grey, his eyes flecked with red.
"Let's keep moving," said Draco, his hand slipping to Hermione's again.
A cold wind blew through the corridor. Wind in a closed tunnel could not be a good thing. Hermione tried to cling tighter to Draco but he was slipping away from her... in more ways than one... she could feel him pulling away from her on the inside.
His voice cracked. "Astoria?"
Thank you for reading. I appreciate everyone who had been reading and following and reviewing this story. Sorry for the slow updates. We're nearing the end(ish) so I hope you enjoy. Thanks again. I tried to post this last night and it didn't work... so here we go again.