I am so sorry. I love Blaise as my favourite character.

You can't have war without incomprehensible loss.

3 chapters left.

I borrowed a lot from canon DH for this.

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.


It was the end of the world.

It had to have been. They must have fallen into the Fiendfyre, they must have been engulfed in the flames. This was hell. There was no other option.

Because Blaise could not be gone.

Not him, with his thoughtful eyes, and his sarcastic quips, and hugs that were all encompassing, that made you feel safe – at home.

Complete.

And now, as Hermione stared back at the closed door of the Room of Requirement, smoke still sneaking through the cracks of the wall, she felt partial. As if a piece of her heart had been ripped from her being, and for a moment, she understood how death split your soul.

This was not murder and horcruxes.

No – this was unspeakable, incomprehensible loss.

She turned towards the others, fallen on the floor and staring back at the room. Harry was holding a shattered diadem, the remnants of the second-last roadblock. Ron was next to him, his face covered in soot, swearing at the top of his lungs.

But Hermione could not hear him.

It was as if she had lost hearing – all she could hear was static.

Her eyes fell on Draco's face.

And her body crumpled.

His face reminded her of a child's whose toy was just taken away. Initial confusion followed by a wobbling lip and an inability to comprehend why.

Or what they had done to deserve this.

In a haunting whisper, Draco spoke.

"Blaise?"

And Hermione felt the last of her resolve shatter.

Tears fell from her eyes like waterfalls, and she was moving, forcing her body to him until she could wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him against her.

It was an action she was not unfamiliar with. But this was not anything familiar to her – nothing she ever wanted to feel familiar. It was necessary comfort in the face of desperation, shared mourning, feeling herself on the brink of collapse.

And she knew he was right there with her.

His arms snaked around her back, holding her there with a different sort of intensity. This was fear, plain and simple. This was the knowledge that life is never guaranteed, and that the best of them can fall.

Blaise's face flashed through her mind once again.

She rested her face in the crook of Draco's neck, and let the tears fall without remorse. Blaise. Not Blaise. Never Blaise. All she could see were kind eyes, asking her if she was alright, delightful laughter, a voice she never wanted to hear for the last time.

A voice that was now lost to time. Lost to the war.

Blaise Zabini – the Slytherin she had grown up with but had never known. The boy who had turned into the man who had showed her there was no way to be neutral in the face of overwhelming evil. The Order Member who had chosen his side, giving everything to her and the light, who had known what he was getting into.

He had known that he could fall.

The man who held the mystery in his hands, who had handed her understanding while she was unmoored, drifting aimlessly in the face of her mark. Who had sat her down and told her the truth – who knew she was in danger and needed to protect herself.

The man who had stood up for Draco when the crusades had come. The man who had loved his friends with a quiet ferocity.

The man that she had cared for as a brother.

The man overtaken by the flames.

Draco held her tightly against him, as she whispered Blaise's name over and over again.

"Hermione," he murmured, his voice strangled, barely recognizable.

"I… I can't," she exclaimed, a fresh wave of pain and guilt overtaking her.

"We… we need to go. We're running out of time… Blaise… he would not have wanted us to do this."

"He didn't deserve this," she cried, sobs wracking her body.

There was a moment of quiet.

"No. No he didn't."

"Hermione," another voice whispered. She pulled her face out of Draco's shoulder to look up at concerned green eyes behind cracked spectacles. "We need to go. We need to get the snake."

She shook her head, Harry's words incomprehensible to her. "I want… I want to kill Death Eaters."

Harry gave her a look so full of pity that it shocked her. "I know… trust me, I know. But we need to get the snake. We need to end the war… so that this doesn't happen again. This can't happen again."

Without waiting for her to acquiesce, Draco began pulling her to her feet. His face was paler than she had ever seen it – pure alabaster.

He kissed her temple, his lips betraying the utter despair of his soul.

They trembled against her skin.

Ron walked up to them, glancing back at the Room. "Crabbe and Goyle as well. They… they didn't make it out."

Hermione felt Draco stiffen, but he did not say anything at the revelation of his oldest friends' deaths.

"They deserved it," he said lowly. "It was us or them."

Hermione let out another sob. "It was us and them."

Silence.

"The snake," Harry repeated. "We need to… we need to find the snake."

Hermione nodded, trying to stop her shaking. "We should… we should go to the Great Hall. Check in with the others."

The group turned towards the end of the corridor, Draco still holding on to Hermione. However, before they could make it to staircases, Harry froze, grabbing on to the wall to steady himself.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, rushing forward. "Are you alright?"

He held up his hand for a moment, causing her to pause. Taking deep breaths, he opened his eyes and looked over at her.

Where green once was now was almost entirely black.

"He's in the Shrieking Shack," Harry muttered. "With Nagini. With Snape."

"The Shrieking Shack?" Draco exclaimed, a cold fury in his voice. "He's sending people to die for him, and the coward doesn't even have the balls to fight?"

"He's waiting," Harry whispered. "He thinks I'm going to come to him."

"Harry, you can't," Hermione said, as Blaise's face flashed across her eyelids once again. "You… you can't."

"Hermione," Harry answered. "I think… I think I have to."

"What?!" Ron shouted, marching forward. "Have you gone barmy, Harry?"

He shook his head. "I… we need to get the snake. Nothing fucking matters unless we kill that snake."

"I am not letting you go alone," Hermione hissed. "Absolutely not."

"I can take the Whomping Willow passageway and the cloak, he'll never know I was there."

"Harry, you cannot do this! You do not need to martyr yourself."

"I'm not martyring myself, Hermione. We need to kill the snake."

"You absolutely are not going alone," Ron interjected, frowning. "Not after everything."

"I'm not letting any of you lot come," Harry cried out, a deep fear in his voice. "Do you think I'm going to let my best friends die at my side? Do you think I'm going to put you in danger like that?"

"Harry, it's a war," Hermione shouted, as words Remus had said to her what felt like a century ago echoed through her mind.

That boy would damn well sacrifice all of Sweden before putting you in unnecessary danger.

She shook her head, ignoring the reminder. Unnecessary danger. Risk without reward.

"Harry," she said softly. "Please. You… you don't need to go alone. You need support."

"You and Ron aren't coming," Harry yelled, his eyes entirely black and his face flushed. "Fuck, Hermione. I'm not losing you today."

"What about me?"

Hermione felt her stomach drop as she turned towards Draco, where he was watching the exchange with nothing short of annoyance in his expression.

"Draco," she whispered.

He shook his head. "They're right, Potter. You cannot do this alone. But you don't want to take them? Fine. Take me."

"Draco, please," Hermione whispered again. His grey eyes flashed to her, and all she saw was Blaise.

He wouldn't look at her. He was staring straight at Harry.

"Potter, you need backup. I can help you. And I know that you don't give a damn if I die."

Harry's mouth had fallen open. "I mean… I care if you die."

Her best friend's eyes met hers. Green on green.

Draco waved his hand dismissively. "You care because of Hermione. But of everyone here, I am the most disposable to you. So, take me."

Harry pursed his lips. After a moment, he spoke.

"Alright."

"Draco, no!" Hermione shouted, grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around to face her. "You can't do this."

"Why?" he challenged. "You were about to."

"That's… that's different."

"It's not," he stated. "You wanted to follow Potter."

"Because he's my family! You want to because… because of what happened to Blaise."

Before she knew what was happening, Draco had gripped her shoulders and slammed her against the opposite wall. Without a care in the world about the war, or Harry and Ron standing next to them, he brought his lips down on hers in a chaotic, punishing kiss.

There was no longing here; only desperate need. His lips moved against hers mercilessly, nipping, biting, sucking, marking her as his. Was it the desire to forget? To allow himself to fall into another set of flames? Did he not want to survive this?

She wrapped her fingers in his hair.

He kissed her like had had already chosen death.

He broke off, panting, and Hermione could barely hear the irritated mutterings of her best friend. Her lips were swollen, her face flushed, and all she could see was fierce grey eyes, burning into her soul.

"I am not losing you," he said. Like it was a predetermined fact. Like nothing could change it. "And you are not losing me. Let me do this."

She felt tears in her eyes again. As her body fell closer to collapse, she nodded.

His eyes softened. "Thank you."

Without thinking about the consequences, she reached over her head to grab at the brass chain holding the sapphire on her chest. She pulled it over her wild curls, tangling it as if it refused the gesture.

But it submitted to her eventually, and she held the necklace out to Draco.

The breath caught in his throat. "Hermione…"

"Please," she whispered, the word a beg. A demand. A need greater than one she had every felt before. "This belongs to you now, too."

He watched her with pain in his eyes and fury in his soul. But he nodded. With trembling fingers, she reached over his head, her hands grazing the white-blonde hair that she had grasped with desperation just moments before, until the sapphire landed gently on the centre of his chest.

Light billowed in her chest, even with the absence of the stone on her body. But her and Draco were intertwined. If he wore it, it would protect him.

And that was more than she could ever dare dream for.

He nodded at her, kissing her forehead quickly. "It's time to go."

Draco turned back to Harry and Ron, who were staring at them with varying expressions of disgust.

"Come on, then. You're the one going on about some bloody war."

"Ron and I can get you to the tree," Hermione said, clutching her wand in her hand. "Let us get you that far."

Harry nodded.

"Then come on. We're almost out of time."

They took off at a sprinting pace, making it to the Grand Staircase just as the world exploded around them.

Dust and debris were falling from everywhere. Hermione could hear portraits screaming as she dodged curses flying at her from all directions; from allies or enemies, she could not tell.

They ran down the staircase at dangerous speeds, their feet pounding against the stone, demanding it acquiesce to them, to their movement, to their mission.

The battle was overwhelming. Hermione did not know when the wards had fallen, when Death Eaters had entered the castle, but the number of black masks surrounding her was disorienting. She sent a curse at a group cornering Lavender and Luna, as they all flew away from her comrades.

Her friends.

"The grounds!" Ron shouted, as they reached the Entrance Hall. Bursting into the corridor, they raced down the grass as Hermione heard more shouting. She turned in time to scream; what looked like hundreds of Acromantula were climbing their way over the debris, as shouts of terror filled the room.

"Fucking spider bastards!" Ron screamed, cursing some of them out of the way. "I thought we were done with you!"

Draco screeched. "You've seen them before?"

"Who gives a fuck!" Harry shouted. "We need to go!"

Hermione raised her hand as a sudden hopelessness overcame her. Turning towards the grounds, she watched as Dementors began to glide across the grass.

She didn't think. Lifting her wand, she cast her Patronus.

A beautiful silver otter burst forth, charging towards the creatures. From behind her appeared a silver terrier and a stag that she recognized innately. And then…

Another otter.

Hermione turned to Draco, where he stood, eyes focused, and the sapphire gleaming on his chest.

He caught her eye.

"It's always for you."

Hermione, even surrounding by the chaos of battle, couldn't help but smile.

The group continued forward, past the duels, past the bodies that Hermione couldn't spare a glance for.

Blaise falling into the fire.

From the direction of the Forbidden Forest, Hermione heard screeching. From the trees, brandishing a club, came a giant that almost had Hermione stopping dead in her tracks.

"RUN!" Harry shouted, as the group took off in the opposite direction. The giant's bellows echoed through the night, across the grounds where bursts of red and green light continued to illuminate the sky.

Hermione sprinted forward as the Whomping Willow finally came into view. She didn't even hesitate, as the mark on her arm guided her actions.

"Immobolis!"

Like ice had descended on its branches, the tree froze in mid-air, allowing them access to the passage below.

"Hermione, what the fuck? Where was that when Sirius almost killed me?"

She ignored Ron, turning back to Draco and Harry as they all reached the base of the tree.

"Cloak," she whispered to Harry, as he reached into his pocket and pulled it out.

"Please," she murmured, eyes only for him. "It's the only way to end it."

He nodded. "I'll come back."

Harry threw the invisibility cloak over his and Draco's head, and Hermione watched in terror as the two most important people in her life disappeared to end a war.

"Come back forever."


Draco and Potter wriggled their way into the tight passageway, much too close for either of their comfort.

"Merlin, Potter, how did you lot do this in school?"

"Well, Malfoy, we were children, not adults, and we didn't hate each other."

"Touché, Chosen One."

They crawled forward through the low-ceiling passageway, with both of their wands pointing forward.

"What are you going to do, Potter? Fiendfyre it?"

"We'll figure it out when we get there."

"How on earth has that been your philosophy for years and it's bloody well worked."

"Malfoy, shut up."

"I'm not going to shut up…"

"Fucking can it, I can see something."

As much as it killed him to admit it, Potter was right. The passageway was sloping upwards, and there was a silvery light illuminating the end point.

Draco could hear muffled voices coming from the room directly ahead of them. Hardly daring to breathe, the two unlikely allies edged forward until they were forced against the wall, peering into the room between a small break between two old crates.

He could see the snake, that bloody creepy snake, coiled around the base of black robes he knew so well. There was a pale white hand toying with a wand.

And there was the voice of his godfather. His first mentor.

His now enemy.

"…my Lord, their resistance is crumbing – "

" – and it is doing so without your help," said Voldemort, in his high clear voice. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there … almost."

"Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please."

Snape strode past the gap, and it took all of Draco's willpower to not flinch, to not scream, to not demand what he thought he was doing.

Voldemort stood up, and Draco could see those red eyes and serpentine face that haunted his nightmares.

"I have a problem, Severus," said Voldemort softly.

"My Lord?" said Snape.

Voldemort raised his wand, and Draco finally got a clear view of it.

He felt Potter almost collapse next to him, and he knew they both recognized the length of wood before them.

The last time Draco had seen it, it had been flying out of Dumbledore's hand the night his life had ended. The night that Draco's had too, in a way.

A loss of innocence he had never recovered from.

The Elder Wand. The third Hallow.

In the possession of the Dark Lord.

How had he gotten it, Draco wondered briefly, but he knew the answer. Voldemort had no regard for the rules of the dead, the rules that had governed society since Antigone.

He had robbed the grave.

Taken the wand by force.

But not by victory.

"Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?" Voldemort asked, drawing the invisible men's attention back to him.

"My – my Lord?" asked Snape blankly. "I do not understand. You – you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."

"No," said Voldemort. "I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand, no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago."

Snape did not speak, but Draco felt his stomach tie into knots.

He could sense the approaching danger as he was sure his godfather could.

"I have thought long and hard, Severus… do you know why I have called you back from the battle?"

"No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter."

"You sound like Lucius," Voldemort said, as Draco flinched. "Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come."

Voldemort held up the Elder Wand, with as much precision as a conductor's baton.

"But a question for you, Severus. Why did both wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter."

"I – I cannot answer that, my Lord."

"Can't you?"

And Draco knew. He knew as he knew everything now.

Instinctively.

The sapphire burned on his chest.

"My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except to kill Harry Potter. This was due to the twin cores."

"I sought another wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore."

Snape had gone pale, and Draco felt regret stab under his breast at what he knew was about to come.

He could not watch someone else die.

But he had to.

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."

"My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand.

But it was too late. The die had been cast over three years prior, at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

Now, was just the pieces finally reaching the ground.

Nagini burst forward, her fangs piercing his neck, as Snape failed to push the murderous beast away. His black eyes seemed to widen, his knees gave way, and he fell to the floor.

A terrible scream filled the air.

And it was done.

"I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

He turned away; but there was no sadness in him, nor remorse. With Nagini at his side, he swept from the shack, disappearing into the world beyond.

Back in the tunnel, Draco couldn't hold himself back anymore. He burst forward past the crates to approach the dying man. He felt Potter follow him as they pulled the cloak from them, revealing themselves to the remaining lifeform of Severus Snape.

Snape's black eyes met Potter's, and he seized the front of his robes and pulled him close.

A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape's throat.

"Take… it… take… it…"

Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed from his mouth and his ears and his eyes…

Draco conjured a flask, holding it up to Potter as the Chosen One collected the memories with his wand. Snape's eyes fell to Draco. He reached out and took his godfather's hand.

"She… she found it…" he whispered, his black retinas on the gleaming sapphire.

Draco couldn't help but nod.

Snape looked back up at him, the fading eyes of a man he considered family meeting his.

"Draco… you… you made the… right choice."

His heart clenched painfully as Snape looked back at Potter.

"Look… at… me…." He whispered.

Draco watched green eyes meet black, but after a second something vanished in the depth of the dark pair, leaving them fixed, blank and empty. The hand Draco was holding thudded to the floor.

He was gone.

Blaise flashed through his mind once more.

Everyone was gone.


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