Yay for the reviews, alerts and favorites! You guys keep me motivated – you have no idea. In my original notes, this was the halfway point in the story. So…if you haven't, drop me a comment. I love them, and if you're reading this far, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Warning – this next arch of chapters are darker than the rest of this story, starting with character death in this chapter. I hate dwelling on death, but this is one of those parts of the story that I had envisioned from the genesis, and therefore, it will remain as originally planned. You have been warned. I made it slightly longer, as I'm not sure how quickly I'll be updating.
LCailan
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Justin ran a hand through his unruly curls. His face had lost all color at Hermione's whispered announcement.
"And how do you know this is true?"
"Malfoy told me."
"Hermione-"
Her brown eyes shone with certainty.
"No, Justin. You can't question it. I trust him; I trust him with my life."
The curly-haired man nodded, but said nothing, and Hermione felt pained at the fear written in his eyes.
"Do you know…what to do?"
She whispered the words, praying that no one overhear. She could only imagine what would await them both if such were the case.
"I do."
He glanced at her, taking a huge breath, and letting it out. It sounded choked.
"Seamus, you know. Before they caught me and brought me here, I knew what to do. I wanted to help, I've wanted to help for months, and I can't believe…"
His fervent whisper faded into the low hum of noise in the room, as his eyes wandered to the windows and the darkness beyond. He was only glad that Hermione could not hear his thoughts, the fear that filled him, and that she couldn't tell how fast his heart was hammering now.
Her face pale, she gave him a gentle push.
"He told me nothing. But if you know, you should go. Go now. Go quickly."
Justin nodded, and then bit his lip.
"Hermione?"
She turned her eyes up towards him and he leaned in, kissing her cheek.
"Take care of yourself, you hear? You know I love you like a sister."
Hermione's eyes widened as she leaned up to hug Justin.
"Don't go all soft on me," she said, offering a small smile though it did nothing to relieve the tension between them.
Hermione felt terribly on edge, all her senses heightened, her body pulled back on an invisible sling, ready to shoot forward at a moment's notice.
They're coming…
She knew who they were, there was no mystery. She knew the purpose of the Alliance, had listened to enough of Justin's whispered stories over the last few months to know that what was coming could be good. It could be good for her, Justin, Lavender, Ginny…for all those who were here, stuck and oppressed, cold, hungry and dying.
At the same time, Hermione had trouble forgetting Marcus Flint and the day in the row houses with the Dementors and the dozens whom he had forced her to torture.
That doesn't mean it has to happen again!
She held Justin tightly.
"And you take care of yourself, too."
Justin pulled away.
"Tell Ginny and everyone else. Lavender will want to know," he said his eyes straying towards the corner where he could see her in the shadows.
Hermione nodded nervously.
Justin took another breath.
"Tell them to meet me near the fencing behind the row buildings."
Hermione's blood ran cold at just the mention of the place, but she swallowed and nodded, her eyes never leaving Justin's pale face.
"It's hard to see behind the building, but they're going to try to slip as many people out as they can, while some of the others will distract the Ministry, if possible. We won't have much time."
Hermione was stoic.
"I understand."
They both looked towards the darkness outside, and then Hermione glanced back at Lavender, after which she gazed at Justin one last time. He hesitated, opening his mouth, and then stopped. She waited, and then finally, he spoke again.
"Hermione, please…when you get the chance, take it."
"What are you-?"
"I know you," he whispered, reaching out to brush a stray curl from her shoulder. "I've seen how you are here; I've seen how you take care of the others, and the children. But tonight, it's not just about them. It's about you, too. Run when you get the chance."
She couldn't say anything, feeling a sudden wave of emotion washing over her, drowning her in uncertainty and cold, hard terror. Justin's eyes lingered on her for a moment, and then her friend was gone, rushing from the door and fading into the darkness. She watched him, her eyes wide, as he was swallowed into nothingness.
She wondered what was waiting for him, but knew there was no time to think. Now was the time to act.
She prayed, hoping there was a God.
Marcus watched Pansy as she leaned over her desk, writing something with quick, hard strokes, holding the pen in such a tight grip her knuckles had whitened.
"I know something's dodgy with him, Pans."
The dark-haired woman said nothing, and hardly stirred. The only sound and movement was the scratching of pen against parchment.
"Something's been different for weeks now, it has."
Still nothing, though a sigh escaped her.
"Pansy."
Finally, she slammed the pen against the wooden desk. She glanced up, her eyes nearly black within a face that was much too white.
"Stop it, Marcus!"
"What?"
"I'm not interested in your paranoid codswallop!"
He stared at her, his bushy brow furrowing.
"You'd think after the rejection you got-"
Her eyes flashed hatefully.
"I'd love to know how you're so easily able to assume I was rejected, you pretentious wanker!"
He blinked stupidly and Pansy was reminded once again how much she loathed him.
Then why have I been bedding him all these months?
She hated her life, hated where she was, what she was doing. And why she was he way she was. The oaf that called himself a man stared at her, his eyes snapping vehemently. He was disgusting and filthy, and he was as ugly inside as he was on the outside. He cared nothing for those around him, wallowing only in his own self-pleasures and desires. And she loathed him. She slept with him, confided in him, spent time with him, yet she loathed him.
"You're right. I shouldn't suppose, but then again if he hadn't rejected you, wouldn't you be with him?"
The comment was spoken casually, but Pansy knew Marcus well enough to know what lay beneath that tone; he meant to hurt and humiliate her, to remind her just how alone she truly was. Grinding her teeth, Pansy barely got the words out.
"My life, Flint, and my choices, are none of your business. Piss off."
"Feisty tonight, aren't you? I remember nights when you were like this, and you invited me home."
Pansy felt a swirling of nausea, which threatened the dinner she had eaten only hours before. She swallowed the thickness, closing her eyes.
"Luckily, that won't be happening ever again," she spat, sickened at her own behavior; sickened by everything she had done in her past. In spite of the shame, she knew she was weak, and that-
"You'll be back."
His look was one of appraisal, his tone lewd.
"When the itch strikes."
Pansy stood, making a face.
"I'm done with this."
There was a silence. Outside, there was a rattling as the wind howled through the eaves of the building, the sound making Pansy shiver. She looked to the window, at the darkness beyond and wondered at what was rattling her so deeply.
She turned, wanting to get away from Marcus.
"Get out," she muttered. "I have to finish my paperwork, and then I'm calling it a night."
"You can't tell me what to do!"
She pulled out her wand, aiming it at his heart.
"Think about that one again."
"Stupid bitch."
Pansy hardly even cared about the name calling; she had long ago stopped caring what Marcus thought of her. He had just been a distraction from the rest of her miserable existence. She had turned around, facing away from him and towards the window, and waited for him to leave. Then, only after the door shut behind him, did Pansy turn. She sat down at her desk once more, but her eyes kept straying to the window. Even though she knew there was nothing outside now but the cold and wind, something was not right. Something was not right at all.
She wondered if God had long ago abandoned her. After all the things she had done and not done, who would forgive her? Who would watch over her? She was alone.
It was late, but Hermione knew that no one was sleeping. She, too, couldn't sleep. She was waiting; waiting and wondering where Draco was.
If they come, will I see him again? Will he go with us?
She was terrified, and curling into her blanket did nothing to ease her fear or the icy cold that permeated every one of her senses. Justin hadn't come back to the sleeping quarters, though Hermione and Ginny had waited long past midnight, Just in case.
Then, there was nothing to do but wait.
God help us, if You hear me.
Justin waited on the outskirts of the alienage, facing towards the row buildings. It was cold, both from the weather and the presence of the Dementors which were housed inside the building. The wind had picked up, howling between the buildings and through the trees that lined the premises. He wasn't sure what time it was – what time it had been when Hermione had come to him. But, he knew it had been hours. Some of that time, he had spent doubting what Hermione had said, but most of it he had spent in silence, waiting for the sign.
Would it be Malfoy?
Justin thought of Blaise and wondered if Malfoy had been in with Blaise all along. It was possible, because at least, Malfoy had shown compassion.
He tried to save my baby.
Nothing had come of it, but-
At least he tried, and that is more than I can say for any of these other Ministry officials.
He stared towards the darkened horizon, dotted by the trees that were dancing in the wind.
Hermione trusts him.
Justin had seen it in her eyes; Hermione cared about Malfoy, and how that had happened, he would never know. It was a hard, cruel world, indeed. Perhaps caring was embraced when one could find it.
What now? Where are they?
His heart began to pound in nervousness as all the possibilities ran through his mind, both good and bad. He knew he had to stop, to focus on what was coming, but he was having trouble.
Stop. You have to stop. You have to stop thinking about what might-
There was a sound from his left, and Justin turned, startled.
"Stop," the voice hissed. "It's just me."
From the shadows, Malfoy stepped into the faint moonlight, his hair white, making him look like some sort of night creature, like the vampires that Justin remembered from movies he watched when he had been a child. Malfoy stood, the wind causing his long cloak to billow. He was nearly swallowed by the shadows that surrounded them.
"We'll need something to distract the Ministry when they realize what is happening."
Malfoy's words were cold.
"We won't have much time once they figure out what we've done."
He turned to look towards the darkness beyond, lit up only by the lights in the main offices and the light of the moon.
Hermione, where are you?
His heart rattled within his chest, making his teeth chatter. He couldn't remember being this afraid for someone. For anyone, really.
Scorp-
Didn't count, his son didn't count. He had already been dead.
Shuddering, he turned back towards the Muggle-born who was standing there, watching him in trepidation.
"You'll have to do it near the offices, do you understand? They'll call for reinforcements once they see what is going on, but you need to buy us some time. Enough to get…as many out as we can. We can't get them all, I know that. It's unrealistic to believe we will. But-"
Once more, he turned towards the sleeping quarters.
I'll get her myself, he thought with increasing panic. I can't be unless I know she's…that she'll be all right.
Would he have the time?
I'll find it. By Gods, I'll find it!
"I'll be watching for them, but they'll come this way," he said pointing towards the grove of trees in the distance.
Justin nodded over and over again, rubbing his hands up and down the trousers that did nothing to keep him warm, his fingers trembling from cold and nervousness. As Malfoy was once more swallowed up by the looming night shadows, he fumbled into the pocket of the worn trousers, finding the box of matches, just as another gust of wind picked up. Moving slowly, almost mechanically, Justin clutched the matches tightly, heading towards the Ministry field offices across the courtyard. He was alone; on this night, no one was about. He wondered if eyes were watching him as he walked. He wondered how many of them were people like him, the oppressed, hoping and waiting for freedom.
Or the Ministry. The Ministry might already be watching me. God help us all.
Swallowing hard, trembling fingers passed one match from hand to hand, hesitating for a moment before striking it against the side of the box, just as he remembered doing as a child.
Justin found it funny how it had been years since he had used a match; magic had made it obsolete. Magic had made much obsolete, he realized in that strange, icy moment. Magic had changed his life as Muggle-born. Never had he imagined that he'd have the power he did today, and even more than that, he had never imagined losing that right, the way he had learned to live, all the years he had put into his studies. He had never imagined losing his family, both his parents, his wife, his daughter.
Justin's eyes traveled to the star-studded heavens, and he wondered with a sigh why oppression existed, why bigotry and prejudice was allowed to eat away and destroy everything good.
He wondered if there was a God.
He struck the match, the sound of scratching against the box giving him a sense of power, of control. In the dead of night, the match flared, a tiny spark of light bringing with it the tiniest bit of hope.
Maybe I won't be all right. Maybe I will be. But even if I'm not, I've done this to help others, to make sure that they're going to be all right.
The match flickered, burned slowly, blackening as it went down, and nearly burning Justin's fingers before he dropped it onto the ground, stepping on it. He took another match, and watched as it, too, burned down to his fingertips before blowing it out. He waited; he waited until Malfoy gave the signal, and then he moved swiftly to the shed that stood nearest the Ministry offices, and dropped a match on it, closing his eyes. At first, there was only darkness behind his eyelids, but presently he began to feel heat, and see a faint glow. When Justin opened his eyes, the shed was ablaze, burning a hot, bright orange.
Now. Now, he knew was the time. Stumbling backwards, he moved just as another gust of wind picked up, sending the flames higher, burning brighter than he had thought possible with just one match.
Merlin's beard, the wind!
Whether or not Malfoy had meant for it to happen, the fire jumped, moved, morphed, and spread. Ashes and sparks exploded against the offices, bouncing off the hard, tin roof, but suddenly catching on the wood that had dried since the last rain, at first small, but then spreading, burning along the side.
"HELP!"
His cry echoed across the courtyard, and then, they were coming. He saw Marcus Flint rushing from the building, his face harsh and lined in the firelight.
"HELP!"
They came in droves, Blaise in the lead, moving slowly in the dead of night. They wore black, and they were concealed both by the shadows and by the bedazzlement charms and spells cast on them. They made no noise, spoke no word but what was necessary. Those who had them held wands, and those who did not, would help with those escaping. They continued to move until Blaise stopped.
"Look," he whispered, pointing towards the sky.
There, lighting up the darkness was the flicker of light; the flicker of fire.
"We don't have much time. That's our sign!"
No one wasted time, and they moved through the trees, running faster now, dashing to the fences along the back, where Malfoy told them he would be. As they neared the alienage, they could see that the fire was spreading, burning brightly from one corner, but the wind carrying the sparks and making the fire jump gloriously, as if it were doing a beautiful, yet uncontrollable dance.
"Hurry!"
Blaise reminded them of their purpose, and once they reached the fencing, it was Dean, using his good arm that lifted his wand.
"Confringo!"
The fencing exploded all around them, and WERA entered the alienage on the other side of where the fire had monopolized the attention of the Ministry.
"Wait here," stated Kingsley as he stood higher than the rest, watching the growing fire.
"That's a beauty, that is," whispered Seamus.
The others entered the space behind the buildings, lining up along the walls of the brick rows, out of sight and still swathed by shadows.
"HELP!"
Once more, Justin's cries floated on the cold, windy night.
"I'm getting the others," said a whispered voice from the other side of the fencing. "I know where they sleep, and I know the layout. I'll need help."
It was Malfoy, and as he moved to leave, Kingsley and Seamus, and several more stepped up and nodded.
"We'll help."
Kingsley's voice on the wind.
Blaise watched as the tall, black man led some of the others after Malfoy, and hoped against hope that they would help more than they would harm.
He wished there was a God.
Then, he followed them, moving into the alienage.
Hermione was the first to jump at Justin's cries for help, and she ran to the window, suddenly aware of the strange, orange glow coming through the windows of the room.
"Ginny, Lily…come," she whispered, pulling the woman and child with her.
They moved through the cots, and pushed by people in the room who were already clambering towards the door, heeding Hermione's earlier whispered words of hope.
They were going to be safe! They were going to freedom! All they had to do is move.
As the Muggle-borns moved from the building, Hermione could see the Ministry officials were preoccupied by the growing fire around them, and she had to admit that it was frighteningly huge now, the wind carrying it, stoking it, making it burn dangerously higher. For a moment she imagined the whole alienage coming down in flames around them, burning to the ground, destroying all the pain here, all the evil that went on, sparing none of the Ministry, none of those horrid, heartless-
"'Mione, we have to go. Come on!"
Ginny pulled on her hand, and with a strange feeling in her belly, Hermione went, moving with the trickle of people heading for their freedom.
The courtyard had exploded into a cacophony of life; everyone was moving from side to side, some were crying, some were trying to go where Hermione had told them to go. As those people were swallowed by the shadows, she said a prayer, hoping that the Alliance was waiting for them, that what Draco had told her was true. It had to be.
Then, as if he was an answered prayer, she saw Kingsley rushing people into the shadows, and saw Seamus holding two children, following Kingsley. They were there! Her eyes filled with tears of relief, and it was the knowledge that they weren't alone in this that kept her moving. She only wished she could speak a word to them; give them encouragement, to touch them. But, she knew she couldn't.
Glancing around, Hermione searched for another, important face.
Draco, where are you?
She knew she had very little time to find him, and though the courtyard blazed with light, for now the laundry rooms had also caught fire, she couldn't see anything through the panicked crowds and the smoke. She could see that Marcus Flint had called in help; Ministry officials were apparating in all corners of the alienage, rushing towards the burning buildings. She saw Justin dashing away from the Ministry, helping a younger girl to run forward, and then moving back to the laundry rooms, in search of others to help.
Still, she searched for Draco, but she didn't see him, and her heart began to constrict with fear.
There's no time! Soon, they'll know we are escaping!
Already, some of them were casting charms to counter the fire.
"Hermione!"
She whirled around to see Lavender standing halfway down the courtyard, her hand outstretched. Her blonde curls hung a mess around her face, looking like the most beautiful spun gold in the light of the glowing fire.
"You have to hurry! We don't have much time!"
Standing next to her, was Blaise Zabini, his hand clasped tightly around Lavender, his face a mask of determination. At last, they were together, and Hermione couldn't think of a more perfect sight. But at the same time, it made her heart cry out for Draco.
Hermione froze solid amongst the world around her, which was hurtling towards chaos.
"Hermione!"
Lavender voice was pleading, and tears glittered in her eyes.
Hermione wondered where the compassion was coming from; Lavender had shown her none from the start. Perhaps it was fear; perhaps it was the knowledge that they could all get away, get to freedom. Or perhaps it was the fact that she was reunited with the man she had cried over for months. Love did crazy things, after all.
Hermione paused, looking around again, her heart pounding with adrenaline and fear now, she was burning with it.
Draco, where is Draco?
She didn't dare call out his name, bring attention to him or to herself, because – bloody hell – in the real world they had no reason to know each other, to love each other.
But I do, Oh, Draco, I love you!
Ginny had paused by Lavender, her red hair gloriously burning around her pale face as she clutched Lily to her chest.
"'Mione, come on!"
Hermione stumbled towards Ginny.
"What about Justin?"
Her voice was breathless, and tears streamed down her face. Tears for Draco. Tears of fear that she wouldn't see him again. Helplessly, she whirled around again, praying that she saw him in the mess on the courtyard.
But, no, he wasn't there.
Please, let there be a God! Let Him keep Draco safe!
Draco dashed across the courtyard, moving, shoving past the Muggle-borns rushing towards the row buildings without looking back, running for their lives, for their very freedom. He could almost sense their panic; he could sense their desperation. And he couldn't blame them. They had spent too long in this place, spent too much time being abused, alone, hungry, tired and sick. He would have run, too. As each of them passed him by, he could only hope that he would see her face, but since the fire had begun to grow to dangerous proportions, he had not spotted her. It didn't help that the fire was spewing smoke, and the wind was carrying it quickly, making the air difficult to breathe and his vision to blur as it burned his eyes.
If she gets away, I'll be fine. If she gets away, and I know she's safe, I'll be fine.
He repeated this mantra with each, ragged heartbeat. He knew that her safety was paramount, but the selfish part of him wanted to see her again. Ignoring the life around him, the cries and the confusion – for the fire was now out of control – he searched for her. On the other side of the courtyard, he could see the Ministry offices aflame, and the laundry facilities burning as well.
The wind; the wind is out of control!
Just then, he spotted Potter, clutching her child. And he knew-
Hermione!
Before he could make her out in the glowing, hazy confusion, he heard a strange sound behind him and turned. The laundry building seemed to glow with a fierce white light, and he heard the sound after the explosion; it rocked the night with sound and caused the others around him to cry out in fear. The force of the impact sent the people around the building into the air, some catching fire and some falling limp to the ground.
All of them were dead.
That was when he heard Hermione's voice – her scream – and Draco turned to see her racing towards the burning structure, sobbing.
"Justin!"
Finch-Fletchley was dead.
Draco broke into a run after her.
"Hermione!" he choked out, reaching her just as she fell onto the icy, cold ground, holding his body against her own.
The explosion had destroyed whatever Justin had been; and he was lifeless, burned completely. As the Ministry tried once again to contain the conflagration, he saw Potter and Lavender rushing towards them.
"Go!" he exclaimed, tersely. "Don't you know this is your only way?"
His eyes were like glittering jewels and devoid of any emotion as he glared at Lavender.
"Go, Blaise is waiting for you. This was for you, you still bint! Don't stand there! Don't waste time!"
Lavender couldn't move.
Ginny hesitated, tears rolling down her face for Justin, and for those others who were surely going to pay if they didn't make it to their escape. But she couldn't just leave Hermione!
"Go, Potter!"
Ginny ignored his panicked insistence, instead, dropping to her knees next to her friend, pulling her close.
"Hermione!"
"There is NO GOD!"
Hermione was rocking Justin's body, unable to do anything but wail. There was nothing to say, to reassure Ginny, to make it better. Justin was dead. Sweet, wonderful Justin who had died alone and so painfully. It was like those last few moments with Ron, the way the fire had swallowed up everything around them, how the building had exploded, how the Death Eaters had found them.
Even Ginny's voice was the same, begging her to come, to leave him.
"'Mione, we have to go! He's dead, we have to go!"
Those same words again!
"Justin," she whispered, tears making streaks along her sooty face.
"He's dead," Ginny whispered, pain evident in her voice, as she leaned to kiss Hermione's forehead.
Hermione leaned into Ginny, and felt as Lavender struggled to pull her to her feet. She heard Ginny's soothing voice, felt them pushing her along, saw and felt the blazing fire around them, heard the sounds of people around her, but everything seemed to move in a haze. It was as if she was watching her life, and not actually living it. She turned to see Justin's body one last time, and she wept once more, her body weak with crying.
In the haze of smoke and heat, she could hear Draco's voice, too. And, she wanted to hold him, but couldn't. She wanted to love him, but couldn't. She wanted to die, but God wouldn't allow it.
There was no God, Hermione realized.
Stay with me, Draco!
But she couldn't say anything, her voice choked with tears and panic. He was talking to Ginny, terrible, awful words that terrified Hermione.
Take her, keep her safe. Get her out of here…go now…I'll go distract the others…
The air was cooler now, easier to breathe, and she was moving into the shadows, the fire flickering to her back now, her vision blurred from tears of loss and fear. She was being dragged like a rag doll, but her heart was with the man who had just dashed back towards the burning buildings.
It doesn't feel right! This is wrong! I can't!
She stopped, and Ginny turned, brushing hair from Hermione's shoulder.
"We're going to be safe," she whispered, and Lily clutched her mother tighter.
Lavender looked pale in the moonlight.
"Isn't that what you've wanted, Hermione? Isn't it what we've always wanted? We only have a few more moments and we can be free!"
It was right for them, Hermione knew. It was right for Ginny and Lavender, because they had other things to live for, others to take care of.
She turned, to see the fire burning bright, but at the forefront, she saw him. Standing off to the side, by his lonesome, black against the flames behind him. She could almost hear his voice again, feel his touch.
I searched for him, and all for what? How can I leave him now?
She began to sob, the tears choking her, making her cough, and Hermione pulled away from the two women who held her arms. No, she had to stay. If he was staying, she would have to stay.
"Hermione…"
Ginny's voice was trembling, growing more fearful.
Hermione turned.
"I can't go," she whispered in reply, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "I have to stay."
"What?"
"I love him."
No one had to ask who 'he' was. They knew, Hermione wondered how long they had known. She closed her eyes for a moment.
"I can't leave if he's not with me."
Ginny's sobs wracked her body and she reached over to hold Hermione tightly.
"If you don't come…I don't know if I'll see you again…please, Hermione, please…"
Lavender shook her head.
"Let her go. She won't know peace in this life if she's not with him."
Hermione swallowed, wiping Ginny's face, and kissing Lily's head. She felt a kinship with Lavender she had never thought would be possible. Because Lavender understood where Hermione was, and what she was feeling.
'Thank you,' she mouthed, before turning back to offer Ginny a trembling smile.
"You never belonged here, Gin. You were never meant to be here with me, and I'll love you forever for everything you've done, but I can't go."
Her heart was being pulled in Draco's direction.
"Don't waste time. Be safe."
Her eyes flickered from Ginny and Lily to Lavender.
"All of you. Take care of yourselves."
Hermione felt herself hugging Ginny and Lily, trying to memorize the feel of hugging them, so she could remember later, just in case. Lavender didn't wait, rushing away, towards the shadows and her freedom. She never once turned, leaving the two women and the child alone.
Ginny, tears of disbelief streaming down her cheeks, would not let go of her hand.
"You can't do this. Whatever is between you, it…in this world, Hermione, I don't know…"
"I know," Hermione whispered. "I'm only doing what I have to do."
She pushed them, choking back more tears, willing herself to stop crying. She didn't want the last moment between herself and Ginny to be one of tears.
"Go. Hurry, I want to know you've escaped."
Ginny swiped at her eyes, but the tears didn't stop. Behind them, the fire was being contained, and more ran past them, towards their freedom.
"I love you, Ginny. I love you both."
"We love you, too."
Hermione clung to them for another moment, kissing Lily and then she let them go, covering her mouth to keep the sobs from escaping. She watched until Ginny was gone and she could no longer tell the difference between her form and the shadows. Then, she turned to run after Draco, knowing that she needed to be with him, no matter what. As she neared him, she saw his face pale at the realization that she hadn't escaped. But in spite of his expression, Hermione felt her heart melting. Without another thought, she wrapped her arms around him, taking a moment to take a breath. He smelled of wind and ash, from the smoke around them.
"What are you doing?" he growled from behind his clenched teeth, pulling her away roughly, searching her eyes. "Get out of here, Granger! Get out before they-"
"THEY'RE ESCAPING!"
It was Marcus' cry that cut through the yells and coughing of those still trying to get away, to run from the Ministry. Soon the orange light around them was studded with green flashes, as the Death Eaters began to send killing curses through the air. With a cry of anger, Draco yanked Hermione forward and dashed around the side of the sleeping quarters, before he shoved her against the wall.
"What are you thinking?" he hissed, his eyes wide with fear. "This was your chance! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN FREE!"
Hermione looked up at him, her eyes bellying his panic.
"I know. But, I wanted to tell you something."
"What?"
"I do."
Draco's pale face flickered with confusion, searching her weary face. Her beauty was heart-stopping.
"What are you getting on about, you mad woman?"
"I do," she repeated, reaching to cup his face in between her dirty, bloodied hands.
"You asked that night if I loved you. And I do. I love you. I should have just told you then, because I think I knew."
Tears suddenly struck him, and Hermione thought they were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
"You choose to tell me now?"
His whisper was ragged, but his fingers stroked along the softness of her cheek with tenderness. And though it seemed impossible, his lips trembled up into a smile. His heart was beating wildly and the moment seemed so surreal, so outside of the hell that had broken loose in the alienage, that he almost believed he had died. And gone to somewhere with Hermione, which could only be heaven.
"I wanted to tell you, in case I didn't get another chance. Death comes so swiftly."
He was crying.
"You could have been safe, Hermione."
He pulled her close, away from the building and into the safest place he could think of; the circle of his arms, into which she melted easily, her breath against his neck.
"I'd rather die with you than be safe without you. I let Ron die, but I won't do the same thing again. I'm going to stay, unless you go. If you go, I go, Draco."
Pulling away she leaned up to close the distance between them and take his mouth in a kiss she had only imagined for weeks. She felt a completion that she had never known in that horrific moment. Come what may, she was in his arms now, and nothing was going to shake her from him. She reached up, stroking the lines of his face, brushing the dirt from his skin with the most tender of touches, wanting to lose herself completely in his face, in the way he was smiling at her, and the way his eyes shone with the feelings in her heart.
"I love you," she sighed.
"And I, you."
He kissed her again, and she tasted his tears, bitter and yet sweet all at once.
"Then, come with me, Draco. I'll go anywhere, as long as I know you're with me."
"We can't now," he said with regret.
If only they had more time, if only there was just another minute! Being with her, even if he never knew home again or never felt like he would stop running, seemed like paradise compared to the life he had been leading for seven years.
Hermione bit her lip.
"They're running after everyone else, towards the back, right? Can't we just make a run for it? Through the front, where you've always met me?" she asked, pointing towards the other side of the building, away from the fire.
"I'm afraid."
She smiled at his honesty, lacing her fingers through his.
"So am I. What's the worst that can happen?" she asked in a whisper. "If we die, it's together."
And, he realized, it was true. If he was going to die, it would be at her side, and that was just fine.
"Let's go," he agreed without another thought. They moved through the shadows, along the side of the building, hands clasped and hearts hammering.
For a moment, all was perfect, and Hermione knew she had made the right choice. She was by his side, and she wouldn't leave him, no matter what was to come. They dashed into the courtyard, Draco making a beeline for the wooden pillars near the exit. They were running so fast, they never heard Flint cast the curse, a red light issuing from his wand and sailing through the smoke and fire.
Draco and Hermione fell, knowing only darkness.
To those who would escape that night, there was a God. But to those who had fallen, there was nothing.
A/N: no, they're not dead, guys! By the way, I wrote some of this to In Reverence by David Tolk. The loveliest song ever.