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Blood Is Thicker Than Tears
Chapter Twenty-Five
Voldemort sat perched on the end of his chair, his hand clutching the armrest. His face was clenched in overboiling anger and his jaw tensed and relaxed as he waited for those he had summoned.
He had given specific instructions; rules that were to be followed to the very smallest detail. It had all been planned out in advance, so that everything was precise and there was no possibility for mistake. He wanted the mudblood dead and that was final; there was no room for excuses.
He was tired of all their petty nonsense over little things; he wished them banished from their mouths. No more small exceptions when they were supposed to bring hard news. They still had to earn their place and simply saying that the mudblood and Draconus were getting closer was not sufficient. Neither was stating that the twins were indeed acting more like brothers by the day.
The Dark Lord wanted to know their every important move. He wanted to know what would bring them down. That which would cause their demise in every which way. He didn't simply want to kill them, but to have them feel the depths of their pain and anguish before he took their lives away from them.
His every sense was heightened just at thinking of that fateful day upon which he would hold the Light side's wonder boys high in the air. He'd scream at them of how they were supposed to be their freedom and look what they had done. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Holding their limp corpses to the sky in triumph, knowing that he had accomplished what he had set out to do.
The War was his and he would rule the land with a hard and unforgiving fist. Those who were not of pureblood would tremble in his wake and beg for his mercy; of which he had none. Muggles would be slaughtered by the millions. Completely taken off guard and confused of the fact that wizards and witches existed; that magic was real. Though they would not know that once, half of all magical people, perhaps more, were rallying to save them and each other from his genocidal murdering he had set out for them all.
The world would finally become what he had always dreamed it should be. Filled with pureblood witches and wizards. Never becoming less and keeping the truest of true wizards and witches at the height of all things needing to be done. The whole planet would be different ruled by him. In fact, as he thought of it now, he would not kill some of the muggles. Instead, he'd have them as servants to all those around him.
He couldn't risk any of the half-blood or mudblood magic folk milling around, just in case they decided to try another War. Possibly finding someone else to lay their trust and admiration in after losing the Potter boys. Though he didn't fear any of the leaders the lesser magic people chose, as he knew that no matter who they put in front of him, he would strike them down without contest. There was no wizard alive that could win against him. He was Lord Voldemort and he would be ruler of all the land.
Loud, pounding footsteps could be heard over the damp cement hallway behind the door of his dungeon. He let his high thoughts of himself and the world as it would be to fade away; he had business to attend to. One of his guards opened the door, throwing two of his followers to the ground at his feet.
Shivering before him, they kneeled. Their heads were bowed in apology.
Standing up, he lifted his foot and kicked one of them in the head, throwing her back. Walking to her quickly, he lifted her off the ground by her cloak. "Tell me, exactly what didn't you understand about your assignment?" he snarled.
It always took violence to catch their attention. Though he didn't mind, he very much enjoyed causing pain to those around him; whether they be with or against his plan for the future. There was something about these two that allowed his enjoyment of their agony to be a little more than others. Possibly because they were young and still full of spirit. Most of his other Death Eaters cowered; keeping their thoughts and opinions all to themselves. It was time they learned what it meant to be a follower of his. It was not an enjoyable dream where they would prance around thinking they were more than others. Not yet at least.
Malfoy certainly gloated his place in the line of Death Eaters behind the Dark Lord. However, he had a lot to make up for as of late. He had been the cause of all the problems circling the Potter brothers. Were it not for his inadequacy at keeping his wife in line, they wouldn't be in this predicament. With Draconus on their side, he could use the boy against Potter, but instead he has to face them both. He was sure the prophecy was broken after that night involving the insolent Potter parents being murdered for their revolting ideas of peace among all bloods.
Blood drizzled down from the Death Eater's nose and stained the white of her teeth. "Nothing, my Lord," she croaked. Her mouth quivered as she held back her cries of fear.
Dropping her, he sneered. "Then why, Parkinson, is the mudblood still alive?" He yelled; his voice deep and chilling.
"Draco took her before we could kill her," the other girl announced.
The deep anger at her audacity to speak to him was running through him at a speed that was surely unimaginable. The girl wasn't even a Death Eater in his eyes. She was still just being considered as she was not someone he had thought was very important or powerful. The fact that she so blindly stepped out of line and believed it was her right to defend herself was very well an outstanding point of her stupidity.
"You dare speak out of turn?" Voldemort shouted, turning his burning eyes on her. Pulling his wand out, he directed it down at her. "Crucio!" His voice was loud and severe.
Her body tensed in a violent shake. With her face clenched in agony, her eyes had cause to well with tears. Finally, as the pain began to fade, she clutched her skin as it burned all over.
"You haven't yet proven yourself," the Dark Lord reminded. "This was your task. Why didn't you handle him?"
One seventeen year old boy with a wand and the two of them accomplished nothing. Once again, he questioned why he left this task in the hands of a couple of little girls when he could've handed it over to those much more capable.
Her shoulders heaved as she tried to stand up.
Voldemort dug his leg down hard on top of her, crushing her small, frail body into the cement beneath her. "Did I say you could stand?"
Any more pressure and he'd snap her spine. The thought made him smirk with enjoyment. There was something about hearing the crack of death and agony as it tore at every limb and fibre of a person that really caused him satisfaction. The high screams and pained groans of clemency, though usually did not make him give in but often made him press a little harder, was like a high to him.
"No, my lord," she wheezed. The wet dirt scraped over her face and burned her open eyes.
Pulling his foot away, he walked over to Pansy and glared down at her sharply. "How did Draconus get a hold of the mudblood when you were supposed to kill her?"
"We were about to kill her when he came out of the third challenge," she explained. "I thought I had him occupied enough so that she could kill him. But..."
Turning to the other girl, he stepped over to her. "Why didn't you kill her?" He kicked her, rolling her over. "Were you feeling bad?" He snarled the last word, a pitiful excuse in his opinion.
This was why he didn't feel she was good enough for his army. She wasn't like the others. Her family was not part of his followers. She was alone in her ideas of power and murder. Why? He didn't know. She gave no reason as to why she suddenly wanted to be part of the murder of all those close to her. Showing no remorse at even speaking the words was the reason he decided to give her a chance.
However, this was her once chance and she had completely missed the mark. Not only did she manage to allow Draconus to take his mudblood lover but she also happened to let the despicable girl get away with hardly any wounds. The pitiful excuse for a witch had been let off with a few Crucio's, which she probably hadn't even been awake enough to feel.
The wannabe Death Eater stayed silent.
Circling her, his eyes thinned. "Do you think you're betraying them? Your friends, your family?" He cocked his head. "Are you questioning your allegiance to me?"
"No, my Lord." She shook her head, her eyes turning up to him. "I feel no regret for my decision." Her face hardened. "If given another chance, I swear I'll kill her."
"Why should I give you such an important task?" he asked. "You couldn't accomplish it the first time." He shook his head. "Not even with Parkinson by your side." He sighed, loudly. "I gave you all that you needed."
"I-"
"I brought them to you." He snarled. "The Weasley boy was slipped a potion in his Firewhiskey, to make him more drunk than he was and act erratically. Erasing him from the game." He nodded, his jaw clenching. "The girls were practically handed to you by Severus." He shouted, his eyes bulging. "All you had to do was give them a few directions and keep the girls alive long enough for one of them to fail." His voice thundered, causing them to shrink away.
"My Lord," Parkinson spoke up. "We did all that was possible." She shook her head. "Draco wouldn't stay down. We hit him with curses and spells! We even put a flumen in the water during the second task, but he still managed to get away." She licked her lips nervously. "Harry won the last challenge first; he took Lovegood. We turned to kill Granger when Draco stopped us."
"And you couldn't fend him off just long enough to mutter two words?" Voldemort raged.
"He threw her across the room with a hurling hex," Parkinson pointed at the girl. "I was guarding myself against his spells!" She sighed. "I managed to Crucio him but then he hit me with a bleed-out spell." She shook her head. "Before he left he severed my arm," she half-shouted, lifting her limb; sans hand. A white cloth was soaked in deep copper blood; a rope wrapped around the wound.
Wrapping his hands around her throat, he clenched the fingers, cutting off her air. "I don't like your tone," he warned menacingly.
The Parkinson family had always been loyal to him. They had followed his every decision and kept track of any news or movement concerning him. He had high hopes once that their daughter Pansy would become Draconus' bride, keeping him in line with the plan he had for him. Instead, he was stuck with a girl that his weapon despised and couldn't keep her trap shut when she should. He was tired of her outspoken nature, all he wanted was to hear the sickeningly sweet sound of her throat as it snapped in two.
Her eyes bulged upward, her face draining of color. She jerked, trying to inhale air.
However, she could still come in handy later on and he didn't want to hear her pathetic parents as they hurled questions at him over her death. Then he'd have to kill them too, for their insolence. He sighed; the war was fast approaching so he simply couldn't kill three people who may actually help him win.
Throwing her against a wall, he turned back to the other girl. "And you? What do you have to say in your defense?"
She shook her head, "Nothing, my Lord." Her mouth was set in a firm line. "Except that I will do all that's in my power to kill Hermione."
Staring at her a moment, he nodded. "Good." Walking to his chair, he sat down. "Very good."
Perhaps sparing her life wasn't a mistake. Nobody knew what her true intentions were, therefore she really could come in handy. If only she'd get her priorities straight and start doing as he said. He'd have to remind her once more of her place before he allowed her to return to the school and go on with her work for him.
The door opened once more. Distinct sharp footsteps approached.
Bowing in respect, Snape waited for his master to speak.
Turning his attention from the girls, he looked to his often loyal servant. "Is it true that you tried to kill Draconus?" Voldemort questioned, immediately.
"Yes, my Lord." He nodded, shortly. "He was trying to leave with Granger."
"And you thought that killing him was the answer?" His voice rose a notch in annoyance.
Even those who had almost always obeyed his word had come to make mistakes. It was last year when Severus had finally left Hogwarts and shown his true colours to the students and faculty surrounding him. Though some thought he was a spy, he had remained loyal the entire time he had been a Death Eater.
Attempting to kill Dumbledore but failing when Potter and his two friends intercepted him, was his way of showing just which side he was on. His place at the school had proven very helpful over the years but at the ensuing War approached, they really was no need for him to be there any longer. Or so Voldemort thought. After Draconus had left the Malfoy name behind and began building a new allegiance with his brother, the Dark Lord regretted his servant's change of address. As it would be helpful to have more than two incapable girls trying to do all that was needed.
"I wounded him but he refused to remove himself from covering her," Snape explained. His face was void of emotion. The white, pasty skin giving nothing away as to how he felt about the questions he answered.
"Why didn't you simply Crucio him?" He cocked his head to one side, looking at him as if he was entirely less intelligent than the mud that caked his floors.
Looking down, Snape thought it over a moment. "It never crossed my mind." He sighed.
Voldemort's face curled into a snarl. "Didn't cross your mind?" he asked, fiercely. "You try and kill one of two people I need alive and your excuse is that you never thought to simply hurt him?"
The Dark Lord shook his head; his eyes darkening. Looking at the three of them, he snarled. "Am I surrounded by imbeciles?" he screamed. "Can any of you do as I ask?"
Waiting a moment for his master to calm down, Snape informed him of some recent news. "Potter saved him," he stated. "He used his animagus form to... keep me from finishing."
"You mean he knocked you to the ground?" Pansy smirked. "Scratched you up a bit and almost ripped you to shreds?"
"What is his animal form?" Voldemort asked, interrupting her insult.
"Panther," the former professor of Hogwarts told him.
Gritting his teeth, Voldemort stared away from them for a moment. "And they all escaped?"
"Yes, my Lord." He nodded.
"Then you realize what has to be done?" He questioned, staring at him sternly.
"Master?" He questioned, cocking his head to the side.
"If we can't kill that which they love," he spat. "Then we simply take it away."
"Take it away?" Pansy asked.
Standing up, Voldemort stared at the two girls. "You were both close to the twins," he reminded. "Can you do so again?'
"How?" the unknown servant asked.
"The two will be weak if they've lost the girls," Snape said, nodding. "Since we cannot kill them in Hogwarts, you two must do something to make the girls stay away from the twins."
"Like what?" Parkinson asked.
"Use your imagination," the slimy man, answered.
"Draco won't come near me," Pansy stated, simply. "Besides, he knows I'm a Death Eater."
"Nobody said you had to look like you." Voldemort reminded, his mouth curling into a malicious smirk.
"What about my arm?" She asked, huffing. "It's an obvious giveaway."
"Repair it, will you?" He nodded to Snape.
Turning his wand down to her severed arm, Severus muttered the incantation. "Restituo districtus artus; manus."
With a bright orange light surrounding the area her hand should be, slowly the limb became whole again.
Touching it, she sighed. "It feels real," Pansy murmured.
"Do you understand your task this time?" Voldemort questioned, his voice sharp.
"Yes, my Lord," Parkinson answered.
"And you?" he asked the other girl.
She nodded, "I do."
"Good." He stared at them, his eyes dark and menacing. "Do not hope to live if you make any mistakes."
Nodding shortly, they hurried to the exit in fear.
As the door closed, Snape turned back to him. He clasped his hands behind his back. "You're trusting her?" he asked, befuddled.
"We'll see after this task," Voldemort answered.
"She's not like the others," the pale man reminded. "Perhaps she's working for Dumbledore."
"Do you think they'd send her?" He grimaced. "She's nothing more than a ploy. After I use her, I'll discard her." He shook his head. "She's not strong enough for my army."
"True," Snape replied. "A useful tool all the same."
"Very." The Dark Lord agreed. "When her family and friends realize what she's done, they'll be destroyed." He smirked. "They're all going to fall apart." He laughed, high and maniacal.
There was a flurry of action in the Hospital Wing. While Draco was being taken care of by Madame Pomfrey, the Professors were all conversing of the events that had occurred. Their arms flailed all about, their mouths and faces moved animatedly. However, they kept their story all to themselves, while Harry, Hermione and Luna all waited for some semblance of understanding.
Turning to her best friend, Hermione shook her head. "Why is it taking so long?" Her brow furrowed. "It shouldn't take so long for one simple cut." Shaking her head, she swallowed. "I don't understand..."
"It's alright," Harry told her. Reaching out, he rubbed her back. "He's going to be fine. If he were dying, I think I'd know." He nodded, his brow cocked.
Hermione's face scrunched up. "That's right." She tapped her chin. Reaching over, she ran her hand over his side.
"What are you doing?" He asked, confused.
"You're not hurt," she told him. "Did you even feel anything when he was hit?"
Tipping his head to think back, he frowned. "I didn't feel a thing."
"Were you in your animagus form at the time?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Perhaps that's why. It'd separate you two. He'd be a human while you'd be an animal."
"Does that mean if Voldemort kills one of them and they're in their animagus form, the other could still live?" Luna asked.
They turned shocked eyes on her.
"Not that I'm selfish enough to think only of Harry," she quickly said, her hands held up in defense.
"It wasn't that," Hermione said. "It's just... Not many people say his name."
"Oh," Lovegood elongated the two lettered word, nodding. "Well, I see no point in putting any kind of power in a simple name." She shrugged easily.
"In any case, you could be right," Hermione agreed. "If one of you were to be killed as an eagle or panther, it's possible that the other would live." She sighed, "Which means that because he was hit with that spell while you were in your animagus form, you might not be feeling the effects of what he's going through now." Her eyes began to shine and her lip quivered. "So you really don't know if he'll be okay." Her gaze wondered over to the curtain blocking their view.
"I'm promise you, he'll be alright," Harry said seriously. "There's no way that he's going to die tonight." He shook his head. "It can't happen."
Nobody was sure exactly who he was trying to convince; Hermione or himself.
A throat cleared in the background.
Turning their heads, the three students stared at their professors of six years.
"I believe we need to clarify exactly what went wrong," Dumbledore announced. "There are a lot of holes and questions that need answering."
"We heard the scream," Harry told them. "So we went in to the Haunted House to help whoever was inside." He sighed, deeply. "We had a feeling Voldemort was waiting for us."
"And you still went?" Falesha asked, quietly. Her eyes were locked on the closed curtain that Draco lay behind.
"Yes," he said. "After we walked through the door, we were greeted by the house." He shook his head, fiercely. "When we turned around the girls were gone."
The five professors turned their gaze back and forth between them.
"I'm afraid I don't remember much," Luna admitted. "One minute I was standing beside Harry and the next thing I know, everything is black. I woke up beside the door I had walked through." Her face contorted in a grimace. "I could feel... pain on occasion." She shivered, her eyes watering. "Such immense pain."
Reaching out, Harry enveloped her in a tight, comforting hug.
"I think we were hit with a silent stunning spell," Hermione told them, nodding. "It was definitely by someone who was powerful." She sighed. "After that, I was woken up every so often, by a cloaked figure." She frowned. "I couldn't see their face, but I promise it was Pansy Parkinson."
"I'm afraid we can't do anything unless you have visual proof it was her," McGonagall told her, sadly.
Standing up, her back rigid, she glared at them. "I'm telling you, it was Parkinson." She shook her head, vigorously. "There is no doubt in my mind."
"We understand," Lupin said. "But please, Hermione, you must see it from the Ministry's point of view. They're not going to convict a seventeen year old girl on the evidence of her mortal enemy saying she recognizes her voice." He shook his head. "It's very sad, but it's the truth."
Sitting back down, her face was deeply disturbed with anger. Opening her mouth, she continued on with her side of the story. "When I woke up, Draco was covering me." She shook her head, her eyes falling closed. "There was a lot of blood." Her brow furrowed. "I remember telling Harry not to kill Snape and then we ran back through the door we came in and were back at Hogwarts."
Inhaling deeply, Harry told them all of his and Draco's journey throughout the night, and ended with his fight against Snape. "I wanted to kill him," he said simply. "I wanted to tear him to shreds and every part of me was sure that he deserved it." He stared down at the floor, his emerald eyes burning with anger.
"I understand Harry," Dumbledore said, patting his shoulder. "It says so much more of you that you were able to hold back from those animalistic instincts."
Luna wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her head against his shoulder. Muttering comforting things in his ear, that no one could hear. He began to relax against her, letting all of the night's pain and distress melt away.
"What about you?" Hermione asked. "Where were all of you?"
"We'er in the house too," Hagrid said, shaking his head sorrowfully. "The doors were like portkeys, we're thinkin'. We went'n right after yous. But we we'er taken to another area." He sighed, loudly. "Snape, that bugger, jumped out of nowheres. Caught us totally offguard."
"He put the Imperius spell on all of us," Falesha explained. "He gave us specific rules." She stared at Harry mournfully. "I never wanted to hurt you." She walked towards him, her hand settling on his shoulder. "I tried so hard to fight it." Kneeling, she stared up at him, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I-I-" She sighed.
"It's alright," he assured her. Reaching out, he patted her hand. "Nobody can blame you."
Her head shook back and forth vigorously, "I blame myself." She swallowed her emotion, her eyes welling with tears. "I should've been stronger for both of you."
"Falesha," he said, trying to calm her. "It's alright." He shook his head. "In the end, you did your best and you broke the curse."
"But-"
"No buts," he said, firmly. "I promise you, Draco and I do not think any less of you." Looking up, he stared at the four other professors. "Not any of you."
They simply nodded, a smile playing over all of their mouths.
"What happened after we left you with Snape?" he asked them.
"Five against one, we were able to back him into a corner," Falesha told him. "However, when we were about to curse him and take him into custody, we stepped on the invisible line he had placed a spell on." She shook her head, frowning. "It was like a portkey. We were taken straight back to the doors leading to the Haunted House except we weren't able to get back inside."
"And so we waited," McGonagall said. "We tried everything we could think of to get inside but I'm afraid there was nothing that helped. All we could do was pray that you'd all be alright." Her aging eyes turned to where Madame Pomfrey worked diligently. "Sadly, we mustn't of tried hard enough."
"This isn't your doing," Harry told them. "It's Snape and Voldemort's." He glowered, angrily. "They'll pay for all they did to me and my family." He shook his head. "Not to mention, countless others who were completely undeserving of their fate."
"Blaise," Hermione mumbled.
"Your parents," Luna said, staring at him sadly.
"Sirius," Harry said, nodding shortly.
"And many, many others," Falesha said, her voice low and emotional.
With a loud sigh, Madam Pomfrey exited from the curtains. "I'm afraid I've done all I can." She shook her head, staring at the Headmaster. Her eyes fell over to the three students, warning of what was to come of Draco.
"It's best you just tell us all," Dumbledore said. "We all need to know."
Hermione clutched Harry's hand, rather painfully. Her eyes were set firmly on the woman who held Draco's fate in her words.
"Snape placed a very horrible curse on Draco," she announced. Her head shook back and forth, gravely. "There is no magical means to cure him that I know of."
Hermione inhaled sharply.
Harry gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched, and his eyes thinned; stopping the tears that begged for release.
"He's awake now," she told them. "Every so often, he's jolted with pain." Her face was weathered and beaten with the news. "The agony he's going through now will increase rapidly until he finally..." She looked down at the floor. "Dies."
"No," Hermione shouted. "No, you're wrong!"
"Mione," Harry said softly.
"NO!" she screamed. "Tell them, Harry. Tell them they're wrong." Her face was covered in bitter and pained tears. Turning to him, she glared down. "You promised me!" She shook her head. "You told me he'd be fine!"
Standing up, he tried to wrap his arms around her.
Lifting her arms, she pushed him. Slapping him across the face angrily, she began beating her fists against his chest. "No," she mumbled over her cries. "No, no, no..."
Collapsing before him, Harry wrapped his arms around his distraught best friend. Her agonized beating didn't take any effect of him. His entire body had gone numb at the news and he no longer felt any sort of feeling. He held her as she cried against him, her sobs causing her to shake violently. Rocking her back and forth, he closed his eyes and wished the nightmare away.
"How long?" Dumbledore asked, his voice deep and low.
"He'll be gone my morning,"Madame Pomfrey said quietly, her own tears falling.
Falesha's face contorted, her body shook like that of a leaf caught in a heavy wind. Swaying back and forth, she felt Lupin's arms encircle her, holding her close as she took in the knowledge of her Godson's imminent death. "This can't be right," she whispered. "I only just found him."
"I know," Lupin said, holding her tighter. He sighed. "I know."
Curling her fingers around his jacket, she sobbed against his shoulder. "No," she cried. "Can't...die...must...save him...please...Remus...please," she hollered between her weeping.
"I can't," he shook his head. "I'm sorry," his voice cracked. "I'm so very sorry."
Dumbledore wrapped an arm around the shaky shoulders of McGonagall. They wept silently as they remembered the boy who had attended their school for so many years. Though many of the memories were not happy or good, there were moments when they were able to see the real Draco. The Jamie Potter behind the Malfoy name. Times when he was a good person; intelligent, funny, and all around nice.
"You're all looking at this the wrong way," Draco called out to them. "Think of it more as me giving back for my past mistakes."
"Don't," Harry gritted out. "You don't deserve this. No matter what you've done."
Gritting his teeth, Draco suffered through the pain that ripped at his torn frame. Staring at the roof, he did the only thing he could to get through the agony. Pretend it wasn't happening. "I beg to differ some days."
"You're going to be fine," Harry said, lowly. "You can't die."
"You heard her," he reminded. "There's no magical cure."
"Then we'll find another way," he yelled.
"By sunrise?" Draco cocked his eyebrow. "It's not even a half hour away." He shook his head. "I don't want to spend my last moments wishing for a miracle." He swallowed. "I want to die happy."
Another wave of torment consumed his agonized figure.
"No," Harry shouted. "You can't die. You're supposed to be my brother." He shook his head. "You're supposed to be around forever."
"I am your brother." Draco nodded, moving his eyes down to stare at the wreck of a boy Harry was, sitting on the ground. "We'll always be family."
"How?" He yelled. "How are you going to be here for me if you're dead?" He swallowed. "How can you just leave me?"
"It's not voluntary," he reminded.
"Then don't go." He finally let the burning beads escape his eyes and roam his face. "Please, Draco. Don't die on me now." He cried, his chest heaving. "We were just getting close."
"I'm sorry," he said, sadly. "I have so much I still want to tell you." He shook his head. "There were so many adventures we didn't get to go on together."
"You can't do this," Harry choked out. "You can't leave me like all the rest."
"If I had a choice, I'd live forever." Draco swallowed the emotion building in his throat. "You're the best brother I could've ever asked for."
"No," he said, mournfully. "Don't say goodbye." He ran a hand through his tousled black hair. "This is not goodbye!" He yelled. "You're going to be fine!"
"No, I'm not Harry." He tried to nod. "I'm going to see them." He sighed. "Dad and Lily. Even my mother." He stared at his brother, a small spark in his eyes. "I'll even get to meet Sirius."
Harry just shook his head, the tears clouding his emerald eyes.
After a moment, Draco spoke again. "You're going to have to fight Voldemort yourself. But I have no doubts in you. You are going to win." He clenched his jaw. "Make sure he feels every bit of pain possible. Show him just how bad it really hurts to know that you've lost everything." He stared at him sternly, trying to convey how serious he was.
"I promise," his brother replied, nodding.
The torturous pain cascaded down around his fragile body, causing him to writhe about in a sickening spasm. He begged for air; for mercy from his pain.
"When I'm gone," Draco started. Stopping, he swallowed the intense emotion cutting him off. "You take care of her," he told him. "Don't take your eyes off her for a minute."
Hermione whimpered against Harry. She fell a little farther into him, unable to hold herself upright any longer. She let his embrace keep her from becoming part of the floor.
With hardly any time in between, another excruciating currant of torment sliced at him again. Left with hardly any energy to move, he let his arm fall to the side. "Bring her to me," he asked.
Standing up, Harry lifted her over to the bed.
Hermione simply stared at the white blanket covering only half of him. The other half of his body lay bare before her.
Reaching up with a shaky hand, Draco's fingers turned her face to him.
Her face was pale aside from the red tear tracks adorning her cheeks. Her eyes were pink and puffy while her lips quivered.
"Hey," he said softly.
Her eyes fell closed but were unable to stop her warm tears from getting loose.
"Come here," he said, patting the side of the bed.
Climbing up beside him, she lay her head on his chest and sobbed. "Please," she mumbled. "Don't go," she begged.
Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tightly.
"You promised," she cried. "You promised you'd always be here with me." She shook her head. "You told me you weren't going to die."
"I'm sorry," he told her, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be sorry," she said, angrily. "Just don't die."
Running his finger down her cheek, he beckoned for her to look at him.
Leaning up, she stared down into his eyes. "I need you," she told him. "I need you here with me."
"I want to be here," he whispered. "But I can't." He shook his head. "I'll never leave you though," he told her, swallowing. "I swear I'll always be here." He reached out, placing his hand over her heart.
"I don't want to just remember you," she cried.
"One day this isn't going to hurt so much," he told her. Pushing her curls off her shoulder, he rested his hand on the crook of her neck. "One day you are going to be happy and find your prince." He nodded, his voice becoming cracked. "And he's going to treat you better than anybody ever could. You'll notice he's not as handsome as me, but that's because nobody is." He shook his head. "Not even my twin." He laughed lightly.
She chuckled, but her face was still drawn with sadness.
"Promise me you'll be happy one day," he asked her. His eyes bore into hers, searchingly. "Promise me you won't cry yourself to sleep every night. That you'll get out there and enjoy life and find love." He nodded. "I want you to be happy," he whispered.
"No," she shook her head. "No, I want you to be here with me. I don't care about all of that other stuff." Her tears were running rampant.
"Don't cry," he wiped at the warm droplets. "I can't stand to see you cry."
"Then don't die on me," she begged.
"You know it's not that easy." He sighed. Running his hand down her face, he smiled. "You're so beautiful."
A bird twittered in the background as the golden rays of the sun began to light the Hospital Wing.
Draco's face contorted as a wave of agony rode over him. His body tensed, causing his hands to curl into fists. His eyes were clenched tightly shut. His chest constricted, cutting off his air. His back arched as the cruel waves of pain clutched at every single fibre of his body.
Hermione stared at him, concerned.
As the horrific moment passed, he gasped for air. Staring up at her, he couldn't even smile. "Do me a favor?"
"Anything," she said.
"Kiss me." He told her. "I can't think of a better way to leave this world."
Leaning in, Hermione pressed her lips against his softly. His hands threaded into her hair and roamed over her sweet skin. She clutched his neck tightly, rather painfully. His ran a finger down her arm and she loosened her grasp. Sucking at his top lip, she felt his tongue run over hers. They put all they could into their last kiss. Using every emotion they possibly possessed to convey just how much they truly cared. Though their eyes were closed, Hermione's tears still slipped down her face, mixing with the silent salty remnants of Draco's goodbye.
Pulling back, in need of air, Draco pressed small kisses at the tip of her nose and down over her face. Staring into her eyes deeply, he smiled lightly. "I lo-" His hazel eyes became dark. His body fell back from hers, his fingers still dangling in her hair.
"Draco?" she shouted, frantically. "No, Draco!" she cried. Placing her head over his stomach, she wrapped her arms around his body, sobbing. Her breath came in ragged inhales while she let her tears roam over his stomach. Her chest heaved with every emotional outcry. "I love you," she whispered.
A/N Wow! So I really hope you guys liked this. I'll be posting again soon, hopefully. I'm in the middle of moving to a new apartment so I'm not sure when the internet will be hooked up again. Please review, it's ALWAYS appreciated. Thank you!
-Amanda