Chapter 58

God fucking dammit.

Hermione was going to get herself killed. She was to get him killed, she was going to get his parents killed, she was going to get Boy Wonder killed and this whole shit show would be for nothing.

And even if by some miracle they made it out, his chances of getting that Unbreakable Vow were just shot to hell. So much for building trust with the Order.

FUCK.

Draco gripped his champagne glass so hard he thought it might shatter in his hand. But he smiled and watched his parents speak to the attentive crowd, toasting the Ministry and their efforts over the past year to cleanse society of the Mudblood scourge. At least they'd keep everyone's focus drawn away from the idiot Trio while they made their exit with the prisoners.

He wandered around, seemingly aimless, but towards the double doors of the ballroom while his mother spoke. Releasing a sigh of frustration, he watched the hallway out of the corner of his eye. How were they getting out?

"Malfoy."

Draco groaned inwardly as Jugson stalked over, drink in hand.

"How's your shoulder?" He shot Draco a sinister grin.

Draco cleared his throat, thinking how to rid himself of Jugson. "Healed."

The last time they sparred, Jugson had dislocated it and broken one of Draco's ribs with a broom handle.

"You're a hell of a lot tougher than you look."

"Not much of a choice, is there?" Draco retorted resentfully, scanning the crowd for ideas.

"No, no there isn't." Jugson downed his drink and punched Draco lightly in the previously dislocated shoulder. Pain shot down his arm and torso.

"Fucking hell." Glaring at Jugson, he massaged the sore area.

The large Death Eater chuckled. "Your mother puts together a good spread." He grabbed some beef tartare off a floating tray and swallowed it without chewing. "Almost makes it worth putting up with these worthless sacks of flesh," he growled, motioning to the guests with his empty glass.

Draco didn't know if Hermione would be making her way out the front entrance. Or when. Frantically, he searched the ballroom for inspiration on how to get Jugson away and noticed Blaise's mother chatting with Pansy's parents.

Perfect.

"I heard Yasmine Zabini is single again."

"Oh yeah?" Jugson's predatory smile bared his teeth. "I thought she was seeing someone."

"No." Draco shook his head. "Blaise told me."

He waited while Jugson eyed Blaise's mother, sizing up his chances. "Thanks for the tip, Malfoy."

He clapped Draco on the back this time, making him pitch forward and spill champagne on his front.

"Sod it all," he muttered, cleaning himself off while Jugson stalked over to Yasmine to try his luck.

It was just in time. For a moment his blood ran cold in fear. He saw the woman Hermione came Polyjuiced as limping down the corridor with the help of someone else. Did Greyback hurt her? He walked out into the foyer and they stopped, wide-eyed in terror at his presence. The woman started trembling.

Something was wrong.

The unknown man reached for his wand and Draco forced himself to casually turn around, pretending to listen his mother's speech again. He tried to make himself relax as the man paused, and continued down the hallway when he realized Draco didn't care what they were doing.

He exhaled slowly.

It wasn't Hermione, she was fine. It was an injured prisoner – Polyjuiced as the same woman as her – with haphazardly transfigured clothing. The man must be one of Hermione's moronic boy toys. The crowd laughed at something his mother said and he did as well, observing the pair exit through the front entrance from the corner of his eye.

The faint crack of Apparition echoed in the distance.

One down, two to go. He surveyed the crowd again. Everyone was preoccupied with his mother's speech and Blaise's mother was speaking with Jugson.

Good.

Someone else caught his eye and started to walk in his general direction. Draco nodded and smiled viciously across the room at Arnold Peasegood, one of the Ministry officials he was extorting to get a member of the Wizengamot sacked. The official looked visibly shaken, and waved at Draco before scurrying away.

Tosser. Jugson was right. They were all worthless sacks of shit.

His heart pounded in his chest. What was taking so long?

A few moments later, he heard another pair shuffle down the corridor. This time it was Stan Shunpike and the same man he just saw leaving. Draco's heart thudded harder in his chest and he willed them to walk faster.

Of fucking course she'd be last.

He cursed impatiently under his breath when his father started to speak. Finally, the second pair was out the front door and a few moments later he heard another crack of Apparition.

Hermione was still here.

He slowly sipped his champagne to quell his anxiety, rested his head back against the door frame and watched his father speak, toasting Pius and the new age of stability. The whole ballroom raised their glasses and he did as well.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell was she doing down there? And with Greyback? He exhaled in frustration.

If Hermione didn't appear in the next minute, Draco was heading downstairs. He couldn't risk anything happening with that creature, and would deal with the fallout later. Adrenaline pumped through him as the seconds ticked by and the hallway still remained bare.

He shifted his gaze back to Jugson and Blaise's mother. Jugson appeared to be enjoying himself, leering at her when all of a sudden he blanched, as if he saw a ghost. Yasmine gazed sweetly up at him but Jugson abruptly turned on heel, walking out towards the garden without another word with a look of abject horror on his face.

Jugson.

Afraid.

What the hell was that?

Blaise's mother slowly turned to face Draco, meeting his stare, and terror shot down his spine. He had the sneaking suspicion that she knew exactly what he had just done.

But how?

Draco thought of Nagini eating chunks of Professor Burbage again and he dug his fingers into his palm. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and he wondered if she would confront him. With a playful wink, she turned to face his father as he spoke to the crowd, as if nothing had happened.

Fuck, she was scary.

Draco nearly sagged in relief at the sound of two people shuffling in the distance, and he ran his hand through his hair to wipe his sweat away.

Hermione struggled down the hallway with a prisoner disguised as the man that first walked down the corridor. He dragged his left leg, clearly injured. Couldn't they go any faster?

Terror gripped his lungs and squeezed as Alecto Carrow appeared behind them, exiting the loo.

Bloody. Fucking. Hell.

"What are you doing?" Alecto called imperiously down the hallway. Hermione's eyes widened in panic and she turned around.

Without missing a beat, Draco pulled a champagne flute off the tray next to him and strode towards Alecto with a smirk.

"Draco!" She smiled seductively as soon as he appeared in the hallway. "I was wondering if I was going to see you tonight. I heard rumors of an engagement?"

One less thing to confess to Hermione, he thought bitterly. He was now completely stripped bare of everything. Lying to her by letting her think the prisoners were dead, and unable to tell her that he was forced into marriage.

It would have happened eventually. What a nightmare. And it was only going to get worse when they discovered the prisoners were missing.

"Yes, I'm a very lucky man," he replied with a flash of his teeth.

Draco approached Alecto and sent the fumbling pair a disparaging glance, not missing the horrified look on Hermione's face when she understood what he was doing. Her eyes were red, as if she had just been crying in the dungeons.

Now what?

"Not everyone holds their liquor well," he sneered at Hermione in disdain. "Bad breeding."

Alecto laughed and reached out for the glass he handed her, leaving her fingers on his hand longer than was appropriate. Hermione stopped moving.

Keep. Walking.

He stroked Alecto's fingers with his thumb and smiled as she licked her lips in anticipation. Hermione headed towards the exit again.

Fucking finally.

"Will you join me for the rest of your father's speech?" Alecto purred into his ear and slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow.

"I'd love to." Draco swallowed the bile in his throat. "My parents are about to announce the good news."

Tonks looked exhausted; she was still nursing Teddy frequently in the night. Hermione sat in silence, unfeeling and deaf to the cacophony around her. Harry and Ron had been yelling mutinously at the top of their lungs for the past half hour. Hermione knew it was going to be a bad night, but she had no idea how far things would spiral out of control.

Ollivander told them flat out to take Luna and the other younger Order members before him. He claimed they were the future, and had more value to the next generation. Hermione's initial thoughts were to rescue Ollivander first, as his knowledge would benefit the Order more so than another foot soldier. But she never voiced them. He appeared to know exactly what she was thinking and made it clear he would not come.

Without consulting anyone, Hermione quickly surveyed the state of the prisoners and decided it would be Luna, Oliver and Hannah that would be returning with them. She worked wordlessly with Harry and Ron on preparing the three to leave one by one. Hermione shooed Harry and Ron out the door with frantic whispers. After Eloise realized she wasn't getting a dosage of Polyjuice, she started to cry, and begged Hermione not to abandon her.

Already Hermione felt like she was going to vomit. She couldn't look Eloise in the eyes as she prepped and healed Oliver as quickly as she could. Oliver choked out an apology, having spent the previous couple months in the dungeon with her, and appeared a sickly green.

Dedalus was in terrible shape, his mutilated body sprawled on the floor. Being an Auror, he was trained to withstand torture and harder to break. As she and Oliver were about to leave he glanced up at her, a plea in his eyes.

"Kill me."

Her heart stopped.

Dedalus couldn't possibly have said what she thought she heard. Hermione clutched Oliver's arm, supporting him with her body. She had been on the way out, feeling utterly wretched from the sounds of Eloise's weeping.

"Kill me," he repeated.

Hermione fought the urge to retch as the blood pounded in her head, making her dizzy. She didn't know how to deal with his request and spoke to him, as well as Ollivander and Eloise, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

"We know you're here now. We'll come back as soon as we can."

Dedalus shook his head.

"Kill me, Hermione. You have to. I'll compromise others. I can't take it anymore. I can't."

She had no idea what to do. The seconds ticked by. For better or for worse, she and Oliver needed to make their exit. She glanced at Eloise, crying in the corner, and then at Ollivander, who stared at the floor silently but offered no help.

"We can come get you tomorrow."

Hermione knew they wouldn't be able to. There was no way they could get back into Malfoy Manor without detection. They had no more Polyjuice of invitees, and she didn't know when they'd notice the prisoners were gone, and raise security. It would be impossible to come back tonight, and they knew nothing of the state of things tomorrow.

Dedalus realized that too, and shook his head. "Just kill me."

Harry wouldn't do it. Ron wouldn't. What would Tonks do?

"Hermione," Oliver nudged her. "We have to leave."

She made to head out the door.

"Hermione. Hermione, love," Dedalus called to her from the floor. "Look at me."

She turned back with tears in her eyes. "No," she choked a sob. His body was so mangled. Broken, bloody, emaciated, beyond repair.

"You can do it."

He's spoken those words to her before during combat training, pushing her past her limits and hardening her as a soldier. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she wiped them away.

"I can't," she pleaded with him, vision now blurry with tears. She couldn't think. She felt like a vise was tightening around her chest as the seconds ticked by.

"You can," his voice was soft. "I know you can. Others will die at the Ministry. You have to." He beckoned her weakly with his fingers. "Come on, love."

She exhaled harshly between her teeth. She couldn't do this. She couldn't. She couldn't.

"End it," he croaked. "I can't anymore. They'll die."

Oliver breathed heavily next to her, Eloise sobbed in the corner, and Ollivander stared at the ground. None of them offered any help. None of them knew what to do.

"Please," he whispered. "Hermione. Please."

Hermione's heart thudded in her chest. They had no time. Whatever would happen, she had to act now. His pained eyes pleaded with her.

With a trembling arm, she raised her wand and he closed his lids with a sad smile, nodding in encouragement. She squeezed her eyes shut and gasped for breath.

Ohgod.

Opening her eyes, she hoped it was the right thing.

"Diffindo."

The cut was clean and precise, jerking his head and shoulders once with the force of the slice. Dedalus was already on the ground and died instantly. Blood spurt upwards, splashing down on his face, neck and torn shirt, and continued to pool slowly underneath him. Eloise cried louder, ramming her fists into her forehead over and over, and Oliver apologized for abandoning her, agony straining his voice.

The two of them turned to the sound of Eloise whining, "No, no, no, no…"

Her pleas became louder. "Don't leave me! Please don't leave me here!"

Oliver met her eyes, guilt and terror paralyzing them both.

"They'll hear," he said.

"Hermione!" Eloise cried out, her voice echoing in the cell. "Oliver! Please don't lea–"

Her screaming was abruptly cut off after Hermione silenced the cell and they ascended the stairs to the drawing room. Hermione couldn't meet Oliver's eyes as they made their slow, lumbering escape.

Hermione heaved a shuddering sigh at the memory and stared blankly at the table while Harry and Ron screamed at Tonks and Remus.

Not wanting to get involved in the ensuing argument between Harry, Ron, Tonks and Remus, she retreated into her thoughts and her grief. Tonks and Remus could talk some sense into them. She was exhausted, having done enough for tonight. She struggled to Occlude, and found that she didn't need to, she just felt numb.

Eloise's cries still echoed in her ears.

Luna, Oliver and Hannah were currently in the infirmary at Dorchester safe house. Eloise and Ollivander languished in prison. Dedalus was dead. Hermione hadn't told anyone what she had done. She didn't know how. She could still see his closed eyes and accepting smile as he lay on the floor, waiting for death. She would never forget how he looked then.

Hermione had killed before – last year defending herself on the back of a thestral with Kingsley. Fighting for her life, she hexed two Death Eaters off their brooms, and hadn't really felt the consequences of her actions. She never could have imagined that the first time she would see someone die from her hand, that it would be on her own side. Gazing down at her hands, her wand lay loosely in her palm, rolling back and forth.

Her decision. Her sin. Would she ever be clean? For better or for worse, she couldn't take it back.

Is this how Draco felt?

Her thoughts flitted back to him at the gala, elegant and aristocratic when he carried the champagne to Alecto. She couldn't find it in her to even care about the news of his engagement. It was all a sham. He hid his pain well. There was no hint of his revulsion towards Alecto, and Hermione's heart ached at the thought of what he put himself through.

With increasing dread, she wondered what else he had sacrificed for her tonight.