.
»»-¤-««
XXXV: Six of Cups
Hermione's eyes grew wide with horror as Draco cast Killing Curse after Killing Curse against the wards, watching as they cracked under the sheer power of the spell. It was not the way Hermione would have lowered the invisible barrier that kept them from the outside world, nor was it a method she would have considered Draco would use prior to the discovery of his father's death.
She reached forward, stumbling against the ground as she sought Draco, but he was swift in his movements. So swift that her fingertips weren't even able to graze him before he disappeared. She couldn't see where he went, a dense cloud of putrid brown smoke immediately filled the space around her once the barriers were broken. She coughed into her sleeves, her vision quickly growing blurry against a flood of fresh tears as the smoke stung her lungs and eyes.
Her ears rang as the raging sound of anger finally dissipated with Draco's disappearance.
"Oh God," she whispered into her sleeve.
Bright coloured spells were flying, muted in the smoke, and she fell to the floor as she dodged a bright red spell that nearly grazed her ear. She heard the sudden shriek of a man behind her, mere feet away yet shrouded in mist. The spell hissed where it struck him in the throat and he collapsed to the ground in a violent seizure.
"Draco!" she called out as she rose, fighting the burning in the throat that urged her to cough against the putrid smoke.
Spells were soaring all around her, aimless and frenzied as they struck where they would without any care to who they hit. Red, purple, green.
She had to find him.
"Draco!" she cried out, unable to see within two feet in front of her. Two large hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back into a warm body. Draco.
"Finally," she heard the crude growl in her ear.
Panic seized her and she tried to fling herself forward but the arms were too strong. She felt the fingers wrap around her throat and the other hand squeeze her waist with rib-crunching force as they pulled her to face him. She saw the teeth first - pointed. Every one of them were like the teeth of a dog, curved upward into a grotesque smile as they glistened with the sheen of saliva - ready to digest his next meal.
The fur on his face was nearly camouflaged against the murky mist around him. Fenrir. Voldemort's Dog.
She struggled to take in a breath as his fingers squeezed the delicate muscles of her windpipe, his filthy nails digging into her soft skin.
"You dumb bitch," he whispered against her ear before running a long, hot tongue over her cheek. "There's no one here to stop me this time, is there?"
The cold shudder that dragged through Hermione made her want to throw up if he hadn't crushed her esophagus. She kicked against his brutish form, her arms wailing around, her wand ineffective as spells were stuck in her throat and trapped against her clenched jaw.
"I can't wait to feel the life leave your body."
A scream barely made it past her lips as with a quick swipe of his fingers, filthy claws dug into her chest and tore at her shirt to reveal the soft bare skin of her cleavage. She squirmed and cried as his fingers made their way down her blouse, drawing a long line of crimson as blood pooled and dripped down where his claws dug into her skin.
Greyback's nostrils flared and a long drip of saliva fell from his teeth, landing in a slick glob on her chest. He dipped his head, his long greyish tongue already past his parted lips and ready to have a taste of her.
The movement was enough. The grip of his fingers on her throat released for a brief moment, but it was enough.
Delirious and near-fainted, Hermione muttered the only spell that came to her mind.
"Diffindo," she whispered, her wand dangling in her tingling oxygen-deprived fingers.
Hermione fell to the floor as Greyback stumbled with a gargled choke. She winced as blood splattered from his torso, spraying its own mist outward with vibrant bursts of red. Long, thick lines of cuts drew over his body - parting his flesh like a zipper - slow and torturous as the magic from her wand revelled in the meticulously delicious jabs and strikes that caused blood to rush out of his faltering form.
She watched with severe shivers as red coated the teeth that moments ago had nearly punctured her skin. It dripped over his chin and with twin streams fell from his nostrils until, with a thundering bang, he fell backwards, pooled in his own blood.
Then she felt two more hands on her shoulders. This time, she didn't hesitate to flay and jab at the form with a desperate cry.
"The hell - stop," she heard the familiar voice. Her body immediately relaxed at the sight of silver, the pools of blue.
"Where did you go!"
"Come on," she felt his arms around her as he hoisted her up to her feet. "We need to get out of here."
He dragged her by the elbow toward the Great Hall entrance, but Hermione immediately yanked her arm back, nearly falling backwards at the force of her own strength.
"Not there - this way," she urged, turning on her heel toward the staff table. He followed without protest as she ran through the dense mist, dodging several hexes that flew over her head until she shoved her weight into the side-door of the Great Hall.
The door opened up to a wide corridor unfamiliar to Hermione. It was empty, save for two coat-of-arms and several plain wooden doors on each side of the hall. She stared from side to side, anxious to avoid the path that lead back toward the entrance as she had no real understanding of what existed there, nor what the source of the smoke was.
It was her aching arm that alerted her to the fact that Draco was walking at a slower pace than was comfortable or safe for her, and she turned around with an exasperated sigh as she turned to face him.
"Can you please keep up?" she said, her eyes alight with irritation against his neutral expression. As she'd turned to face him, Draco immediately halted as he stared at her as though she had just escaped the sanitarium.
"The fuck, Granger -"
Her eyes followed where he was planted and she glanced down to see three long lines of blood slowly seeping down her chest, her breasts barely covered by the shredded fragments of her top that were clung together by the few mere buttons left at the bottom of her shirt. In the chaos, she had forgotten that she was still openly bleeding from the incision of Fenrir's claws.
"Oh."
Draco watched with a disgusted sneer as she ran her wand over the wound, first cleaning the likely soon-to-fester wound then slowly forcing the skin back together. She was no expert healer, but closing wounds was not Advanced Alchemy. Hermione turned away as she finished the final few steps of healing, suddenly insecure and - though she did not know why - embarrassed by Draco's repulsion toward her. She cast a hasty spell to repair her shirt, her eye glancing warily at the door they entered from in case of any intruders before she began taking steps toward the end of the corridor.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm trying to figure that out!"
"Fine," he snapped back.
Hermione recalled the image of Hogwarts' immense floorplan from Hogwarts, A History and determined that they were in the the staff corridor under the first-floor staircase. She did not glance back when they reached the final door at the end, nor did she ask his opinion when she stepped into the next room which was eerily still and dark. The slightest glow of light shone from the ever-lit sconces as tiny magical flames flickered around the room, illuminating the long shadows of eight portraits surrounding the pair at every side.
Hermione recognized one in particular as the ivory Greco-Roman style buildings in the background and Cypress trees revealed themselves to be the setting that she had seen daily during her time at Hogwarts, a similar background to that of The Fat Lady that provided admittance to the Gryffindor Common Room. The portrait was, unfortunately, uninhabited as she approached it.
"I think this one leads to the dungeons," Draco observed the blank, black canvas that was a few steps away from Hermione's. "I've seen a painting like this near Snape's office." She looked at the darkness, curious at first why anyone would put a simple black painting up but as her eyes stared at the dark canvas, she could see the subtle shimmer as it moved over the painting and coiled upon itself and it took Hermione a moment to realize that the black shimmery skin was those of snakes. Thick, black snakeskins coiling and shifting over themselves, only visible to those that looked beyond the simple facade of black.
"Excuse me!" Hermione called out, turning toward her own painting as she leaned into the spring-filled Greek landscape.
"What are you doing?"
"Hello?"
"Granger -"
"I'm trying to get us somewhere safe-"
They hushed as the sound of whispers murmured from beyond and the sound of footsteps echoed from beyond. Hermione gripped at her wand, her ear pressed close to the portrait while her eyes remained on the door.
"What - students? My word, you aren't supposed to be here!" The Fat Lady's pale face appeared in the portrait and Hermione was so relieved she felt like she could kiss the oil painted canvas.
"Whizzbees!" She announced the password.
"The castle is not safe for you students," The Fat Lady continued, her melodramatic face fitting the weight of her words for the first time since Hermione had laid eyes on the grandiose woman. "Does Dumbledore know you're here?"
"I - We need to go - Whizzbees!" Hermione stammered.
"Fine, fine!"
The portrait swung open and Hermione reached for Draco's wrist as she yanked and dragged them both through the hole and into a tiny space inhabited only by a spiral staircase. The pair climbed the several steps that Hermione deduced must have been enchanted as with each single step, it felt to Hermione like she had climbed at least seven. Upon reaching the landing, they were met with a portrait of a familiar face, with a long white beard and crescent-moon shaped spectacles. Though his face was slightly ashen, the wizard slept peacefully against the ragged breathing of the students who fought to catch their breath.
"Professor," Hermione spoke the words and could feel her stomach squeeze as she gazed upon the man whom she knew was dying outside the walls of Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore woke with a start and gave Hermione a happy smile as his sleepy eyes took her in.
"Ah, Miss Granger," the soothing voice of the soft-spoken wizard said. "And Mister Malfoy, I am happy to see you both alive and well."
"Professor, what do we do - the castle has been overtaken by Death Eaters," Hermione said, closing the space between herself and the portrait.
"Hm," the portrait of Albus regarded her thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, I have not been informed of the goings-on. Alas, I was painted to guard the Professor's portals and am not able to wander."
Draco stepped forward, looming over Hermione as he spoke.
"How do we reach you? The real you?"
"I should think paying a visit to my Office would be a wise start," Dumbledore responded with twinkling eyes.
"The phoenix," she gasped, suddenly recalling a hyper-elusive statement Dumbledore had made during a meeting he'd scheduled with her to discuss her Prefect status. She had noticed a painting of a Phoenix, so simply drawn it could have been made by a young child. In very-Dumbledore fashion, he had remarked that it was a useful painting to have when 'in need of a friend.' Though the message was left alone at the time, Hermione turned to Draco with wide-eyed determination. "I know exactly what to do, and it's not far from the Gryffindor Common Rooms."
"Perfect," the portrait said with joy as he glanced from Hermione to Draco. "Now, may I have the password?"
"Whizzbees," Hermione spoke the words clearly. Dumbledore's thin lips curled as they regarded her words.
"My apologies for not being clear - may I have my password?"
Hermione shared a knowing look with Draco at the portrait's request before they turned to face the white-haired wizard.
"Omnia Vincit Amor," the pair said, their Prefect password to Dumbledore's office being the correct one as the portrait of Albus Dumbledore swung open and the lovers disappeared through it.
»»-¤-««
Though the pair were undoubtedly in a rush to reach Dumbledore's Office, Hermione found herself guiding both of them to the original portrait of the Fat Lady that hung guarding the Gryffindor Common Room.
"I just need a minute," she said as she spoke the password once more and led them through the small portrait-hole and into the circular room, with its ornate crimson and gold scheme and enormous crackling fireplace that filled the space with an intoxicating cosiness.
Their feet had barely reached the ground when Hermione flung her arms around Draco's stiff body and squeezed hard.
She buried her face into his chest as she held him as tight as she could until her arms started to tingle and she felt herself fighting against the overwhelming fear that was threatening to rise. She breathed in his air, a mix of his scent and the lingering stench of dark magic that clung to his clothes. He stood stiffly, almost coldly against her as she held him and when she withdrew she took his face in her hands and pulled him down to press kiss after kiss on his ivory features.
"I'm so sorry, Draco."
The words had started to become like a prayer. Something she found herself saying almost daily since their time in the forest, constantly seeking absolution and mercy.
"I'm so so sorry, please forgive me."
He looked down at her with neutral features that did not flicker at her pleas. She squeezed him against her again, forcing herself to breathe against her own anxiety. The familiar, warm surroundings of the Gryffindor common room - with all its heat and sunshine seemed as peaceful as if it were just another day full of classes. There was little indication that Death Eaters were roaming the halls outside, and she squeezed Draco's wrist, dragging him into the centre of the Common Room where she pushed him into the plush chair that used to be her favourite. She drew herself over him, sitting in his lap as she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his chest.
They had no time for this. They both knew it, the Order must be reached and soon. But she couldn't - What if something happened? What if this was her last chance to remind him?
"I love you," she murmured into his chest, "I would have told you, I tried - I swear - I tried to tell you about your -"
"I know," she heard his whisper. She felt his fingers run over her messy curls, frizzed and distorted from the humid magic that she was trapped in moments ago.
"That was your pain," she looked up at him. "Your anger - I remember now -"
Hermione recalled the night on the Astronomy Tower and the magic that Draco had shared with her, transporting her to another place entirely with his mere touch. The Illusionment Charm, he called it. The spell his grandfather taught him, old Malfoy magic that he had been learning to hone. She remembered the memory he shared with her the night on the tower - a young Draco flying on his broom above Malfoy Manor. The way his mother laughed at her little son's joy, the cold tone of his father as he introduced Draco to Death Eaters. The sheer sadness he felt when he thought of his father.
She was silly to have thought the music she had heard in the cave was a side effect of the potions she had been experimenting with, and was not - in fact - him. She did not question how he had been able to cast it in his poisoned state in the Forbidden Forest, as she had just witnessed the effects of the magic in the Great Hall as they radiated off of him without any verbal incantation and filled the whole space around her without his touch. It was something else now. Nothing like the magic he had demonstrated on the tower, this magic was full of rare, old power.
It killed her to feel his sorrow. The feelings seeped into her soul as they poured out of him and filled her lungs, taking over her senses. She had drowned in the anger and pain that he had been experiencing, it was overwhelming. It was impossible to cope with. The way her heart felt torn to shreds, the sheer betrayal and feeling of loneliness.
Hermione's fingers gripped at his collar as she buried her face into his neck, desperate for his touch as she held onto him.
"You're not alone, Draco," she whispered into his skin. "I'm here. I'm here."
Draco let out a heavy sigh, his fingers slipping into her hair to press his fingertips against the heat of her scalp.
"I killed him," he said with finality, the weight of the words entirely disjointed from his emotionless tone.
"You killed...?"
"It's my fault he's dead," Draco said, his gaze distant.
"It's not true, you had nothing to do with it."
She could feel the firm fingers of Draco against her thighs as he manoeuvred her off of him, clearly disinterested in continuing the conversation.
"We need to go," Draco's cold gaze met hers. As he turned to leave back toward the portrait hole, Hermione's hand sought his.
"Wait -" she pulled. He gave her a calm glance, the stress in her voice and the anxious energy that was palpable in her movements unmoving to his disconnected visage.
"If anything happens, I need you to know - I love you. Draco, please, I love you, okay?"
With a quiet nod, Draco turned toward the portrait hole and they made their way back to the perilous corridors of Hogwarts castle.
»»-¤-««
It was growing apparent to the pair that the Gryffindor Tower was by and large abandoned by Death Eaters as they made their way toward Dumbledore's Office in silence. They furtively moved through corridor after corridor and took a sharp right turn toward the moving staircase to the Headmaster's Gargoyle Corridor before the sound of hushed whispers echoed against the still stone walls.
"How was I supposed to know? The map says she's here -" came the irritated response of a female.
"Bloody hell, why is there a sodding dead animal on the floor?"
Hermione's heart skipped a beat at the familiarity of the voice but she questioned the thin thread of hope that began to develop.
"Shh! Did you hear that?" The female asked, her voice falling to an even fainter whisper.
Draco took a step in front of her, his arm instinctively holding her in place behind him as he took careful steps in the direction of the sound. His wand was raised tactically before his face with each careful step, his body crouched in a perfect poise for duelling.
"Wha?"
"Footsteps! Shut it-"
They were near the corner and Draco held his arm out to keep Hermione safely behind. She scowled at his care, knowing full well she would be a perfectly capable fighter if given the chance, yet he still stood in her way, protecting her from any potential danger.
In an instant he dashed around the corner, his wand drawn and pointing to the two confused figures that stared with wands of their own.
"Stup-"
"STOP!" Hermione shouted as she jumped between the confused wizards, her hand knocking Draco's wrist aside as the spell that was mid-incantation was left unspoken.
"Ron," Hermione whispered before her body broke into a sprint toward the confused redhead who stood mouth agape as he stared at her. Her body collided against his as she nearly tackled him and herself to the floor but his tall form caught her and he squeezed her with a familiar warmth that brought tears to her eyes. "You're okay!" She breathed in his air. Like a walking candy bar, he always smelled so sweet.
"You're alive," he replied, drawing her back to look at her.
The lopsided grin made her burst into a bright smile as she touched his red hair and hugged him again. Her best friend. He was okay.
"Er - but you're bleeding," Ron's wide blue eyes dropped from Hermione's face down to the dark-red stain that had formed in her white button-down blouse, obvious as she drew herself away from his hug.
"Oh!"
She let out a nervous chuckle as she cast a glance at Draco. Her throat grew tight as she noticed the way his fingers were curled into fists at his side, to the point that his knuckles were blanched. His eyes did not meet hers when she turned toward him.
"I'm, em, fine," she said as she turned back toward Ron, "I was able to heal the wound. Er, is Harry here?"
Ron's gaze took turns from Hermione's blouse to her face and over her shoulder to the sour-faced Malfoy who lingered close behind her.
"He's... safe," Ron finally said, "He's at the house with Dumbledore."
She felt the violet-haired girl's disapproving glare landing blatantly on Ron, who seemed oblivious to it. Ignoring it, Hermione turned to her with an equally warm smile, and her awkward impatience faded at the attention.
"Tonks!" Hermione cried out as she reached for the girl, bringing her in for a hug as well.
"Wotcher, Hermione, good to see you in one piece at least."
"What are you two doing here?"
"Looking for you with this damn map," Ron grumbled as he pulled out the crumpled yellow parchment with its moving footprints decorating the enchanted artefact. "Of all the times it doesn't work, it's to find you."
Hermione tried to hide the look of guilt that was forming in her features, knowing full-well why the map was not useful in finding her. She recalled the day she snuck into Harry's trunk and enchanted the map, as a safeguard against being discovered in her dalliances with Draco.
"Oh, now it bloody works! All it did earlier was point us to the room that had your bag, or maybe it was leading us to the dead rabbit, not sure which."
"Dead - what?" Hermione asked.
"Shit," she heard Draco breathe the word. "Granger…"
She turned toward Draco who had been hovering behind her, protectively and jealously watching as Hermione flung herself in the arms of Ronald Weasley. Whatever expression he'd had now morphed into a look of dread as he glanced between the two, toward the door ten feet away. Hermione followed the trail of his gaze and felt herself gasp as the air filled her lungs with a quick burst.
"What?" Ron looked between the two with a baffled stare.
"Oh no," she whispered to herself, pushing past a very confused Ron as she approached the white ball on the ground, mere inches from the door that Ron had just identified.
"Damn it," she could hear Draco's mumble and the sound of his footsteps following her, but she paid attention to none of it as she fell to her knees before the white form of the furry rabbit. Its eyes were shut and its normally rapidly beating heart utterly unmoving, calm, silent, and lifeless.
"No," she cried into her fist as she reached with her other hand to pet the soft hairs of the bunny that had followed her everywhere. It was laying on its side, inches away from a door that used to be a Defense Against the Dark Arts storage room.
"What's happening?" She heard Ron whisper, too loud for it to be subtle.
"You poor little thing," she whispered, her fingers running over the tiny little ribs of the dead creature as tears spilled on its white hairs. "My friend..."
"Hermione," Draco breathed as he hovered over her. She glanced up at him with tearful eyes. "It's my fault-"
"Not everything is your fault," Hermione replied, her words biting more than she anticipated.
"No," he clarified, "I forgot to remove the Imperius Charm."
"W-What?"
"I cast the Imperius Charm on the rabbit to help you look for your wand," he explained, his brows knit with guilt as he glanced down at her crying face, "and I forgot to remove it, I'm sorry."
Hermione glanced away from Draco as she took in the sight of the rabbit once more, its ribs now apparent in her searching eyes. It was skin and bones, likely dead from starvation or thirst as it waited near her wand like it was ordered to, incapable of fending for itself or even considering meeting its own needs for food or water. It was probably dead by the time the Death Eaters came to retrieve her wands and give it to her in the arena. And they just left the creature to rot in the hallways, forgotten.
She didn't know why it was the rabbit that caused her to break down into a mess of tears, but she found herself sobbing over its lifeless form. A casualty in the horror that had become their lives. There was no room for anger or bitterness. She had known that Draco was capable and willing to cast the Imperius Charm, and yet there was no room to take on that evil truth in her heart which was already brimming with so much. She just wanted them to survive. They would figure everything out if they could just survive. And as she glanced at the dead rabbit on the ground, she could see the cracks in her sense of hope which she had clung onto so desperately.
She felt the warmth of his arms around her as he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her head. Ran his fingers through her hair as he held her still against him. She clung to him, desperate against his first show of emotion.
She could hear Ron loudly clearing his throat as they pulled away, the cold, apathetic demeanor of Draco melting at the sight of her heartache. Her eyes met his and the understanding between them was clear. He was there for her, he always would be.
"I'm sorry -" she muttered. She could hear Draco telling her not to apologize under his breath but she still rose with an embarrassed look and difficulty meeting Ron's gaze at her intimate embrace with Draco. Ron's gaze was lowered to the floor too, and a sour expression plastered deep in his features as he turned away from the pair.
"Er, Tonks I don't think you've met Draco - Malfoy," Hermione said.
Draco took a step forward, though lingered a step or two behind Hermione as he nodded toward the violet-haired girl, her pale heart-shaped face significantly neutral when compared to her red-haired counterpart, yet her dark eyes regarded him with caution.
"I hear you're my cousin," Draco said, the awkwardness between them palpable to Hermione who stood in the center of it all.
"Well, your mum disowned mine a while back, but if you're counting blood - then yeah. Guess we're - er - family."
"Now that the pleasantries are over," Ron spat, his eyes settling on the open Marauder's Map, "we need to get going."
"Where exactly are we going?" Hermione asked.
"Out of here. The Order got word that Voldemort is headed to Hogwarts, that's why we came so quickly-"
"Quickly?" Draco challenged. "We were trapped in the Forest for weeks - what part of that is 'quickly'?"
"Draco-"
Hermione turned, reaching to take his hand and assuage the frustration that was apparent in his tone.
"You don't know what we've been dealing with," Ron responded bitterly, drawing his chest up as he took a step toward them.
"Ron-"
Hermione's other hand flew up toward the redhead, keeping herself between the two irritated men.
"Where the hell were your people when we got attacked by Dementors?"
"We were keeping an eye out, Malfoy, you think Dumbledore would leave Hermione unprotected?"
"Oh for crying out loud, move it, boys -," Tonks said before she dragged Ron by the shoulder into the classroom behind them.
"Gerroff me!"
"We are not getting killed because you two want to have a row in the middle of a fucking corridor -"
"We don't have time for this - Voldemort could show up any minute," Ron protested, his nose and ears growing visibly red as Tonks closed the door, casting a charm or two to noise-proof it.
"Your people know nothing, do they?" Draco said with a bitter laugh.
"Voldemort's already here," Hermione said, her voice small in comparison to the men who seemed to suddenly be speaking too loud for comfort.
Tonks and Ron shared a wide-eyed glance as they processed her words.
"I thought that was the reason the Order arrived at Hogwarts."
"Some of the Order," Tonks responded, to which Ron glanced down onto the worn piece of parchment, taking note of every Order member in the castle, as well as viewing for any surrounding threats.
"Fred and George were supposed to create a diversion so Moody and McGonagall could slip in."
"So that's who set the Dung Bombs," Hermione said to Draco as he gave a curt nod.
"Dung Bombs?" Tonks asked, utterly outraged while Ron smacked his own forehead with a deep sigh.
"They said they were going to be sneaky - no wonder all the sodding Death Eaters ran to the Great Hall," Ron pointed to the map where a cluster of footprints were scattered around the entrance of the school. "It's okay though, it looks like they're going through the entrance near the Herbology classrooms."
Hermione watched as Ron's finger trailed toward the side of the castle toward the two moving footprints that hastily headed toward the less known castle entrance.
"We need to get out of here," Draco said, his voice dry and bitter. He took a few steps away from the group, using the empty space around them to silently pace, his face in a perpetual frown. Hermione fought the urge to approach him, opting instead to watch as Ron and Tonks huddled together over the map.
"We need to tell the Order that Voldemort is at Hogwarts," Tonks remarked. He nodded in response.
"Right, but how? You reckon we could get to the Owlery from here?"
"You won't need to," Hermione said. "I just need to get to Dumbledore's office, and it's not that far from here."
"Brilliant." Ron grinned. In Hermione's periphery, she could see the curl of Draco's lip as a sneer deepened in his cheeks.
"Shouldn't we figure out how to stop the Death Eaters from popping in and out of Hogwarts?" Tonks offered. "They're funnelling in here, look - a few more just arrived."
"How would we do that? We don't even know how they're getting in right now." Ron said, tapping repeatedly on the map. "They're right there on the Seventh Floor."
"But I thought Dumbledore's anti-apparition magic is still intact?" Hermione asked.
"It is." Ron shrugged. "What do we do?"
A deep sigh resounded through the classroom, and all eyes lifted toward Draco.
"I'll take care of it," he took a step toward the group as he glanced at the map. His suspicions were confirmed. The Death Eaters were appearing near the Room of Requirement. Someone had repaired the Vanishing Cabinet.
"Right, that settles it, we'll split up," Ron said, his voice suddenly oozing with confidence. "Malfoy and Tonks will go fix the Death Eater problem, me'n Hermione'll give word to Dumbledore."
Ron's words were immediately met with a loud bark of laughter as Draco glanced from Hermione to Ron, and back. He took a step toward Ron, his movements slow and stalking as Hermione moved between them. He stopped only when his chest reached hers, their bodies making brief contact. Yet his eyes were fixed on Ron's, his lips curled again into the familiar sneer that was becoming a regular fixture in his face. He spoke the words - his voice low and cutting as they rolled through Hermione like a cold shiver.
"Over my dead body."
»»-¤-««
Author's Note:
Hi! If you're enjoying this fic and feel like making my day, please leave a kudos or comment! Thanks love!br /
Syren