Droplets of water raced each other down Draco's body as the blonde hurriedly ran down the stairs, fastening his vambraces, vest, and charming his bootlaces to do up. Compared to the slow, methodical preparation that the students had taken for the last rescue attempt, this plan seemed like chaos; everyone hurrying to get their battle gear, not knowing what they would face on the other side of the portkey, praying that it wasn't too late for Hermione.

Swearing as his wet hair swung down into his eyes, Draco applied a quick drying charm to his entire body. He alternated hopping on each foot as he checked for the knives he still had secreted away in his boots, and he double-checked that his extra wand was still in place. Bugger it, he thought, sprinting down the last staircase. If I'm missing something, I'm missing something.

Just outside the main doors, Draco paced nervously waiting for Ron and Harry. Theyshouldbeherebynow, whyaren'ttheyhere, what'stakingthemsolong? His thoughts blurred together as his walking pace increased in agitation. Fiddling nervously with their portkey – one of Draco's old school crests – the blonde was relieved when he saw a mop of black, unruly hair and another ginger blob come streaking across the Great Hall. Draco bit his tongue, just stopping himself from grumbling, "Took you long enough". Instead, he nodded firmly and held out the Slytherin badge.

Ron hesitated obviously, his hand frozen in the air between his body and the green-and-silver crest. His Gryffindor hatred had apparently kicked in. Eyes narrowed, he said, "Where are you taking us again, Malfoy?"

"I'd prefer if you called me Draco," Draco said acidly, "and we're going to Northern Ireland. The Malfoys have an unplottable castle on the North-Western seawall. We're using my school badge because this was the portkey I used to travel there as a child; it's the only thing that will bring us to the outskirts of the wards. Even though the castle isn't in very good shape, that's where my father would take Hermione."

"How do you know?" Ron asked, his still-outstretched hand now curled into a fist.

Draco sighed, counting as valuable seconds passed and cursing any redhead ever born. "Because, Weasley, this castle is where I was given my most violent, terrifying childhood memories, and my father is the type of sadistic bastard who would find it wonderfully ironic to take Hermione there." Draco gave Harry a meaningful look. "Now, I'm sure that Hermione would appreciate it if we would stop asking questions, get our asses in gear, and go rescue her."

Still looking uncertain, Ron nodded slightly. "Fine, Malf….Draco," he conceded, "but if this is a trap, you're going to wish that your scrawny ferret soul had never heard of Ron Weasley."

"It won't be a trap Ron," Harry said softly. "We can trust Draco."

Ron looked at Harry with wide eyes. "Since when did we trust the ferret?" he asked, slightly outraged. "I mean, I get cooperating with him on missions and whatnot, but this could be a trap, Harry! He's still a bloody Malfoy!"

"Hermione trusted – trusts him," Harry said firmly, correcting himself quickly. "That's good enough for me. If you don't want to be a part of this Ron, then go back to the Ministry. No one will blame you." Harry met Draco's eyes and smiled slightly. "Ready, Draco?"

The Slytherin felt something tug inside of his chest, and he softened his expression. Nodding to convey his thanks and his acquiescence to Harry's question, Draco once again held out his school crest. With a final glance at Harry, Ron grabbed the edge of the fabric. "Constant vigilance, you know?" he mumbled, looking down at the ground.

Just as Harry was about to grab onto the portkey, the three students were frozen by a loud, "STOP!" coming from the hallway. The boys turned. Harry's eyes grew wide, Ron's jaw fell open, and Draco's heart began hammering in his chest. There, right in front of them, was the entire eighth year looking incredibly intimidating. Lavender and Padma stood together, arms linked, wearing tight-fitting dueling clothes and with their hair tied back. Seamus and Dean stood on either side of the ladies, Seamus with his arm around Lavender's shoulder. Michael, Justin, and Neville all stood to Seamus's left, each of them equipped not only with wands but also with the sharp swords typically used in traditional dueling. The irony of this was not lost on Draco, who met Neville's eyes with a slight smile when he noticed the glinting red on the hilt of the young man's sword. Hannah stood directly next to Neville, for once looking ferocious and upset rather than meek and shy. Susan looked barely any different than every day in class, only now she had shed her cumbersome robes and revealed her leather dueling garb and high boots. She, surprisingly, was standing beside Dean, her hand entwined with his. When the heck did that happen? Draco wondered, still in shock from seeing all these people.

Ginny was standing beside Susan, the two red-heads looking equally intimidating. Ginny's eyes locked on Harry's, but this time Draco could see that she was past asking for permission and had decided to take matters into her own hands. Finally, Draco's eyes rested on Luna at the very edge of the line; she was wearing the same dueling robes as earlier, however an unfamiliar man was standing beside her. He was tall and broad-shouldered with dark features, but his smile seemed to light up his face.

"We're here to help rescue Hermione," Neville said loudly, lifting his chin as if daring Draco to go against him.

Harry and Draco shared a long look before turning back to the determined group before them. "This will be dangerous," Harry warned, looking at each individual fighter in turn. "We don't know what's on the other side of this portkey – we really don't even know if Hermione will be there – so we're basically operating blind. If this bothers any of you, leave now."

No one moved.

"I take it that everyone still wishes to follow through with this?" Harry asked, his scar just visible in the dawn light, reminding Draco of all that this mop-haired, goofy young boy had done and what he now stood for. Noting everyone's silence, Harry nodded. "Right then. Get over here, the lot of you."

Ginny crossed the ground between her and Harry in seconds, planting a kiss on Harry's cheek. "Thank you," she whispered. "This means a lot to me. To all of us."

Coughing subtly to prevent the inevitable display of affection, Draco held out his crest once more. "Grab hold," he said unnecessarily, watching everyone scramble to touch an exposed area of fabric.

"Oh! Everyone, this is Rolf," Luna said happily, her eyes bright.

The mysterious stranger smiled. "I'm Luna's boyfriend," he said without a hint of embarrassment. "I work for the Ministry and dueling is in my line of work, so Luna suggested that I should come along. If this Hermione is as important to the rest of you as she is to Luna, then she's sure as hell worth rescuing. Hopefully you don't mind me coming along."

"Not at all," Ron said quickly, his eyes like saucers. "Please, Rolf, grab ahold of the portkey."

Neville gave his red-headed friend a strange look, raising his eyebrows. "Don't you know who that is?" Ron hissed excitedly. "That's Rolf, as in the Department of Mysteries Unspeakable Rolf! His work is amazing!"

"How do you know this if he's an Unspeakable? Isn't the point of being an Unspeakable that you can't speak about it?" Neville asked logically.

Ron grew very, very red. "Bill might've mentioned it once or twice," he mumbled, once again examining the ground beneath his shoes.

"Ready everyone?" Draco called out, the trigger word on the tip of his tongue. The group of thirteen was united in their purpose, wands drawn, ready for whatever awaited them at the other end of their journey. Draco took a deep breath and used his free hand to pull Hermione's scarf up over his nose. "Alright. Three…two….one….MORSMORDRE!"

The world around the young adults blurred, colours mixing together in a mélange of abstract beauty. When everything solidified once more, Draco heard Harry gasp beside him. The group was on the very edge of a grey, rocky cliff that jutted out into churning grey sea. Just as grey as the sea, the sky seemed to stretch endlessly without a hint of sunshine in sight. A few lone seagulls hovered overhead, their harsh cries barely carrying through the damp, cold air. Following the seagulls' haphazard path, the rescue group laid eyes on the Malfoy Castle; as colourless as the sky and ground surrounding it, the edifice towered above the land in all of its crumbling glory. Multiple turrets shot up into the sky, and the castle didn't have an exterior wall or moat – undoubtedly because magical wards were being used instead. A single, tattered pendent flew from the highest tower, the faded symbol of a hissing snake surrounded by thorny vines barely visible on the once-emerald-green background.

"You must've had a great childhood, growing up in places like this," Harry said dryly, not looking at Draco.

"Just peachy," Draco shot back, smirking. Turning to face the still-silent group, Draco pocketed his now-useless portkey. "Currently we're all standing just outside the wards. These are some of the most ancient, advanced wards in Europe, so I would recommend that –"

Draco was unable to finish his sentence as Hannah Abbot pushed past him. The normally quiet blonde gave Draco a smile. "Give me five minutes," she said seriously.

Unable to respond with anything coherent, Draco stepped back and gestured towards the invisible barrier that he knew was there. After his initial skepticism wore off Draco just watched her in awe, amazed at her precision and grace. The normally awkward girl walked up to the wards, holding her hand a hair's breadth away from the deadly barrier, her fingertips fluttering slightly. Deciding that that was where she needed to set up, Hannah began muttering complex incantations, waving her wand in a seemingly infinite pattern. The group collectively gasped as the wards came into focus, shimmering a sickly green. With a loud 'pop', the green material vanished, leaving free, ward-less air in its place…exactly five minutes after Hannah had begun her spell.

Neville was the only one who didn't look remotely surprised. Confronted by the shocked stares of eleven others, he merely shrugged. "You all knew that my Hannah was special," he said, pulling his beaming girlfriend in for a hug.

"Special is putting it lightly," Rolf said, watching as his assessment charm caused multiple glowing runes to appear in front of his face. "That was an extremely complex ward, over three thousand years old."

Now it was Hannah's turn to shrug, still happily curled up in Neville's arms. "Who knew?" she said innocently.

Practically bouncing up and down from the tension, Draco shot across the now harmless barrier. "Wait!" Lavender cried out, jogging after the Slytherin. "Don't we want to, you know, sneak in? We don't need to broadcast to Lucius that we're here, do we?"

"He knows," Draco ground out, running even faster. "It's just a matter of getting to him fast enough."

Everyone heard Draco's words and fell into a phalanx formation, running at the same pace towards the castle. It would have been an intimidating sight – thirteen wizards in full battle gear, wands drawn, faces set in determined expressions – but the most terrifying thing of all was Draco's magical energy, crackling off his skin in streaks of silver light.

Throwing the door open with his aura, Draco led the charge into the main room of the castle. At least two dozen Death Eaters stood in battle-ready positions, prepared to fight to the death to protect a cause that had died a year ago along with its leader. Spells began flying immediately, but Draco ignored the battle starting around him. Charging through the fray, he ran up the crumbling staircase of the East Tower towards where he knew Hermione must be.

Unfortunately, however, Lucius must've ordered Death Eaters to station themselves on the stairs; a group of three masked individuals stood together on a landing, wands outstretched, silent. Draco sighed, but launched himself forward nonetheless. Just as the first syllables of curses were passing the lips of the Death Eaters, two of them were down, felled by the poisonous knives in Draco's boots. The third one shouted out, "Sectumsempra!" and Draco reacted by instantly creating a reflective shield that sent the cutting curse back at its creator. Not even bothering to survey the bloody mess he had created, Draco bounded up the last flight of stairs.

Reaching the thick wooden door that had been his goal, Draco fell entirely silent as he undid the lock with a flick of his wrist. He still didn't want to touch the door, however, so he shouted out "Bombarda!" and immediately stepped into the room.

When the dust cleared, Draco's heart flew; "Hermione!" he called out, stepping towards the bound, gagged, and bloodied witch. "Hermione, I -" but the look in her eyes stopped him. Wide and pleading, they met Draco's eyes only to flick towards Draco's left.

Battle-honed reflexes coming in to play, the Slytherin threw up a shield that just barely managed to block the vicious cutting hex that flew through the air. A dark chuckle filled the cell, and Draco shuddered. "This place brings back so many good memories, doesn't it?" Lucius' voice was low and dark-sounding, but Draco still could not see his father.

"I wouldn't call them good memories," Draco said, his body wound tightly. "For me, at least, they were pretty horrible."

Strange laughter echoed off the crumbling stones. "As hard as I may have tried to break your rebellious spirit, it appears that I've failed. You've finally chosen your allegiance, boy."

Draco snapped "I did that long ago, Lucius," watching as Lucius Malfoy stepped between his son and the woman that his son loved. "You just decided to ignore my choice."

"Because it was the wrong choice," Lucius said quickly, his eyes narrowing. "You were supposed to pretend to side with the light, not fall for your own deception."

"It wasn't a deception!" Draco ground out, his shield flickering with silver energy.

Lucius laughed. "Stupid little dragon. You're quite the optimist, aren't you? You think the light side will accept you now?" Draco's shield faltered, and Lucius grinned. "Your soul is tainted, stained with a dark that you know exists within you. Look to your arm, if you doubt yourself" – here Lucius paused –"or, have you managed to hide your Mark behind your scars?"

Rage and sadness surged through Draco and his shield flickered again. A muffled shouting came from behind Lucius, and Draco could barely see Hermione shake her head, tears streaking down her face. Resolutely strengthening his defenses, Draco spun his wand in his fingertips. "The light will give me another chance, Lucius," he said acidly, his eyes boring into his father's. "It might take them a while, yes, but some of them have already started." Draco's eyes rested on Hermione before locking in on a startled Lucius. "I'm making an effort, unlike you!" he hissed.

"But this is my effort, dragon!" Lucius said, sweeping his arms out to indicate Hermione. "She's my route back into respectable society."

"Kidnapping?" Draco spat, pieces falling into place. "You expect to buy back your status by kidnapping the Golden Girl?"

Lucius shrugged. "Why not?" he said, laughing lightly.

It was at this point that Draco realized his father was no longer the man he had known. The Lucius Malfoy standing in front of him was not Lucius the Death Eater, Lucius the Power-Hungry-Politician, or even Lucius-the-Distant-Father; this was Lucius the Insane, fighting for a cause that no longer existed, his last modicum of sanity gone. "Father…." Draco said, pleading, trying to appeal to Lucius' last humanity if it hadn't already disappeared. When the elder Malfoy heard the word 'father' from his son's lips, his brow furrowed and Draco pounced on the opportunity. "Give her back," he said, looking into Lucius' confused eyes. "Just give Hermione to me, and we can work this out. We'll figure out something, we'll get you up on your feet. You just….you just need to give her back to me, Father. Please."

Attempting to show his father that he meant no harm, using the only gesture he had available to him, Draco lowered his shield and held out his free hand. As soon as he did so, he knew he'd made a mistake; Lucius' eyes cleared, and yellow light snapped out from his wand. Tendrils of light wrapped around Draco's hands and feet, rendering him immobile. Another muffled scream from the corner caused Draco to look at Hermione, his eyes sad and resigned. "I'm sorry," he whispered, watching tears run from the corner of her eyes. "I had to try."

"And that is why you are losing, Draco!" Lucius said triumphantly, levitating his son in the air. "Your compassion has turned out to be the end of you, just as I predicted." Flicking his wrist, Lucius sent out a strong cutting curse at his son. Draco held back a scream as the curse targeted clusters of nerves and sent white hot pain through his body.

"Foolish, foolish boy," Lucius said, obviously taking pleasure in watching his son's blood drip onto the gray – now crimson – stones of the ancient castle. "You should've listened to your father, you know." He hit Draco with another curse, this one specifically targeting Draco's shut eyelids and other sensitive areas of skin.

Chest heaving, vision clouded with blood, Draco stared at his father. Blue eyes met blue, and Draco knew in that moment that he was finished. "Good bye, Draco," Lucius said, his voice void of all compassion. "I wish it didn't have to be like this, but alas…"

Trailing off, Lucius sent Hermione a wicked smile. Almost nonchalantly, the older Malfoy said, "Avada Kedavra". Time seemed to slow as Draco watched the green light streak through the air towards him, and he closed his eyes. I'm sorry Hermione, he thought, and the world went dark.

HGDM HGDM HGDM HGDM HGDM HGDM HGDM HGDM HGDM HGDM HGDM HGDM

Hermione watched the duel between Lucius and Draco unfold, unable to move thanks to Lucius' charm. She struggled against the bonds but made no headway, condemned to watch the man she loved fight for her life with his own. For one split second, Hermione saw them both, father and son, with all their weaknesses, strengths, similarities, and differences. They were mirror images of one another; blue eyes, blonde hair, chiseled features. However, the eyes were only superficially identical. Draco's eyes were open, honest, and caring, while Lucius' were hard, flinty, and narrowed. Eyes are the window to the soul, she thought, her gaze locked on the space between the two wizards, waiting for the first curse to be fired.

When Draco lowered his shield, Lucius' back muscles tensed and Hermione screamed; her warning was too late, however, and before she knew it her love's blood was dripping onto the hard stone of the castle. She watched as the red rivulets slipped under the ward Lucius had placed around her, pooling just by her hands. Reaching out tentatively with her fingertips, she winced as she felt the warm liquid coat her skin. "Good bye, Draco."

Hermione's head snapped up, and she saw that Lucius was smiling at her. "Avada Kedavra," he said, flicking his wrist lazily towards the defeated blonde. "No!" she shrieked, throwing off the silencing and bonding charm that had been placed upon her. Hermione felt an unknown emotion bubbling up inside her chest, and she could suddenly feel a hot globe of power right over her heart.

Instinctively, Hermione touched this heat with a tendril of her strong emotion. Please, she thought, Draco can't die.

With a third of the distance still to cover, the killing curse was stopped in its tracks. Lucius whirled around to see Hermione, his eyes growing wide at her expression and the silver magic crackling from her skin. Without saying a word, Hermione closed her eyes and exhaled, her magic pouring out of her. Had her eyes been open, she would have seen silver erupt from every pore of her being, the cell flooding with light and colour. She would have seen the green curse disappearing and Lucius turning into solid silver with a howl of fury, his face forever fixed in a mask of anger and madness. She would have seen Draco slump to the ground, unconscious but healed. She would have seen Neville, Harry, and Susan burst into the room, wands raised, flabbergasted at the scene before them. She would have seen Harry rush over to her side and frantically take her vitals. She would have seen him press a chaste kiss to her forehead, eyes red with unshed tears.

However, her eyes were not open. The doors to her soul were firmly shut.

A/N: Hello, faithful readers! Thanks for your lovely reviews - they've encouraged me to finish this chapter much sooner than I had anticipated (my biology homework isn't so happy about it, but that's ok). :) Please continue to R&R, and I should have the next chapter up by December 16th hopefully. I'm considering doing a bonus chapter for Christmas, something like a flashback into Draco or Hermione's past Christmasses...any thoughts? :)

Happy holidays, and good luck with your holiday preparations everyone! :) ~sneakyslytherin