A/N: So, this might be the last chapter for a few weeks. I'd have to churn out another by Wednesday, which isn't very likely, as I'm leaving Thursday and won't be back until the following Friday. Sorry about that, guys!

Thank you ever so much to: Hartwi1, Leafstar Skyclan, Dozy Dora, Ceylon, BambixEyesx, NLC, Tipsy, .star (FanFiction seems to think I'm putting in a url when I put in your name, so sorry about it getting all screwed up), and LauraFlowi for reviewing my last chapter! You guys are the bestest! Only 8 more reviews until 200 reviews! *dies*

Chapter 19: Remember to Forget Me

Draco was flying. He was not suspended by broom though; he was flying, his arms by his sides, soaring over a landscape that he could not discern through a layer of fog. He had never felt so impossibly liberated and he felt weightless and it just felt so right that it had to be wrong.

But then out of nowhere his father was there, looming over him, and he was so impossibly large that Draco immediately came to a halting stop, fear lacing through his veins and oh I'm sorry if I failed you Father I'm so so sorry will you please forgive me? "You disgrace me." His father said in a booming voice that echoed all around them and filled Draco's ears. He looked as if he were in a rage and was quite terrifying. "You go about with this Mudblood girl. You'll pollute the bloodline."

"But father…I'm not…I'm dying." Wait, was he dead? Is that why his father was here?

Lucius Malfoy scowled and Draco was filled with such shame that it truly hurt in a deep way that he did not understand. "You disgrace me, son."

His voice echoed around Draco, and suddenly he was falling, falling fast, plummeting to the ground and no longer suspended by some invisible force. He screamed and flailed his arms but nothing happened, how had he been able to fly before? He could not remember; he was going to smash into the ground, he was going to be squashed like a bug, but nothing he could do could stop his descent and his stomach twisted and he shouted for help, Father save me, why won't you save me, and oh no this will surely hurt all my bones will break this will hurt and I never even got to see Hermione and tell her that I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry-

Something formed in the mist below him, and then Voldemort was there, as if accepting him with arms open wide as he fell to his inevitable fate. Draco flapped his arms pointlessly and shouted, someone please save me, anyone! Voldemort sneered, his red eyes piercing him and seeing all his cowardice and weaknesses and he was oh so tainted, tainted with lies and flaws and deaths and murders, and Voldemort hissed in a voice that made chills erupt all over Draco and he was so horribly frightened, why was no one saving him; I'm not worth saving, am I? "You thought you could escape me? How foolish. I will find you. You can't hide from me. You can't hide from death."

Draco bolted up, sweat pouring down his face and the feeling of falling to his death immediately vanished. There was a constant throbbing in his chest and he glanced around. He was in his room. In the Order. He was alive?

"Oh, Draco." He glanced to the side and his mother was there, sitting in a chair and watching him. Her normally composed face was gone; replaced by an apprehensive look. Her face was red from crying and her eyes were puffy. He had never seen his mother cry. He didn't like it. She was supposed to be…poised and collected.

"Mother." He said, his voice coming out cracked and dry. "How long have I…?"

"Oh, only a few hours, son." She answered hurriedly. He noticed she was holding his hand. She had never done that, not even when he was young.

"I'm…uh…sorry." What else was he to say?

His words seemed to have a negative effect and Narcissa only began to sob. She turned her face away from him and he looked away, discomfited. "My son…my only son…" She whispered brokenly. He felt guilty.

Narcissa stood and left the room, hiding her face from him the entire time. He figured that she did not want him to see her cry. She had always tried to uphold an image for herself: calm, cool, and collected. She didn't like people to know that she could break down. She didn't like people to know that she was human.

The door opened and Draco wondered if his mother had returned. When he looked up, it was Hermione. He could tell she had been crying a fair amount; her eyelashes were still damp and her face looked wet. He looked away, wondering if she had come to declare her hate for him again. He was completely astounded when she fell to her knees by his bed and leaned her forehead against the side.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She murmured. "I didn't mean it. I thought…I thought you were dead…and the last thing I had said to you…I'm so horrible, it was a horrible thing for me to do…"

He silenced her with a gentle kiss to her mouth. It was nothing like their first; it was soft and reassuring. He placed one of his hands against her cheek as he leaned closer, part of his body hanging over the bed, and she practically melted into the kiss, as if in dire need of intimacy.

"Oh, er, sorry."

Both of them broke apart in an instant and glanced up to see Potter staring sheepishly at them. Hermione looked down at her feet as if she had been caught doing something atrocious and Draco scowled, but instantly stopped by the look on Potter's face. It looked as if he had been crying as well.

"I, um, should've knocked. I'll just…leave you…"

The moment he was gone Hermione stood up and clambered into the bed next to Draco. He scooted over to give her room and she burrowed herself underneath the covers and then pulled herself against him. She buried her head in his chest and made no sound, but he knew she was crying. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek against the top of her forehead, closing his eyes.

"Snape said…you've entered the second stage of the curse." She whispered finally.

He changed the subject. "Weas – er, Ron – he'll be alive, you know. They'll keep him for questioning and for bait, like they did with you." He conveniently left the word 'torture' out of his sentence.

She lifted her head from his chest and met his eyes. "I know. We're going to get him; Harry and I. He'll be in Azkaban. Neville, Luna, Seamus, Dean, Ginny, Fred, and George are coming, too…but not the adults. Harry and I have talked about it. We'll have more success if we sneak in there with a small group. We aren't going to tell them."

"I'm going too."

She looked taken aback by his sudden determination. He narrowed his eyes, as if daring her to tell him he couldn't. This was his chance to do something meaningful before he died. To do something to be remembered for. "But Draco, you aren't even healthy…We're going tonight."

He tried not to think of Hermione charging into Azkaban with only a bunch of teenagers by her side to protect her. He tried. "I know Azkaban. It was like my second home for a few years. I can help."

She still looked uncertain as she considered him. He knew nothing she said would keep him from going; she couldn't boss him around. He was set on going, now. He needed to do this. He needed to redeem himself. She rested her head on his chest, again, and he felt satisfied.

She began to trace the lines on his palm for a few minutes, and it was oddly soothing. He sighed in contentment and she lifted her head and took a deep breath. "Draco…I've been thinking a lot lately…Will you…I want you to…"

Hermione seemed to not be able to find the right words, and he raised his eyebrows as if telling her to go on. She took another breath and whispered, "When all of this is over, I want you to marry me."

It had not been at all what he had expected her to say. His mouth fell open instantly and she tensed, waiting for his answer. Marry her…? They had only kissed twice! And not to mention the little fact that his death would be happening shortly…wait, that was what this was about. She wanted to marry him before he died.

"I know it sounds completely irrational and doesn't make sense but Draco I just…I can't just…" She was crying, now. He hated it. "I can't just l-let you l-leave me without ever having…I…I love you."

He felt like he was falling, just like in his dream. Had she not just exclaimed her hate for him a few hours ago? And now…Now she loved him? He wanted ever so badly to say it back. To tell her that he, too, loved her and that he wished their time wasn't so limited and that he was oh so sorry for everything he had ever done and maybe if he had not been so stupid they would have had more time and none of this would have happened. Love was an insanely complicated word that he had once whispered to Pansy on a cold night in Hogsmeade but had never truly meant. She had lit up instantly and said the same back to him and he had known that she had not meant the words, either.

He knew now that love was not just something that you could say to someone. It was complex and painful and he had truly not ever felt love for anyone but his mother and himself. Did he love Hermione? He could not say. She was wonderful, yes, she was accepting and forgiving and brilliant and intelligent and she may not be the most gorgeous witch in the world but she was oh so very beautiful in her own way and he wanted to cry just thinking about it because there would soon be a time where he would never see her again. He had once thought her hideous and a brat and a know-it-all, and if he had only just opened his eyes that were not truly even his he would have seen her for what she truly was.

What did love even mean? Did love mean that you would do anything for that person? Did it mean that you would live for them and breathe for them and even die for them? Did it mean you would sacrifice anything for them, just so that they would be happy? Did it mean that you would hurt them to save them?

If so, then yes, he loved Hermione.

"No." He said. "Don't say that. You don't love me." He sat up and took her face in his hands and her eyes were closed and he felt truly guilty. She shook her head, telling him with action that his words weren't true, but he didn't let go. "You are not going to sit in your house and do nothing but think about me when I'm gone. You are going to grow old and be happy and you are going to get married and have children and you are never going to think of me again, do you hear me?" Oh shit, now he was crying. He could not cry. "If I ever come into your mind it will be to think of how horrible I was to you in school; of how much a prat I was. You are not going to waste your life away thinking about some cowardly Slytherin Death Eater."

She shook her head and opened her eyes, her bushy hair swinging back and forth and he could not help but watch it. "I can't just forget about you, Draco. You've saved me and you've helped me and you've seen me at my worst and didn't run away and you mean so much to me that I can't and won't forget about you. I don't even understand how it happened and it doesn't make sense but I suppose these things never do. I've never truly believed in something that isn't solid and proven but now I do. I love Harry, I love Ron, but I need you. I love you in such a way that it hurts, Draco."

"No you don't." He was begging, now. He shook his head and bit his lip. "You can't. Hermione, I've always been selfish. I've always wanted everything to myself. But I don't want this. Not like this." He shut his eyes to block out her face, which looked far too sad. "I was raised to hate and judge and…I'm sorry. None of it really matters, you know?" He was rambling, now, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. "No one ever told me that. I was always told that Muggle-borns were scum and beneath ourselves, but then you showed up, and you were smarter than me and better than me and I hated you. Muggle-borns were most certainly not supposed to best a Malfoy, but you did. That wasn't a bad quality, right? Intelligence? But no one ever told me that. I kept on believing that it was.

"And then I saw you in Azkaban and you were broken and I told myself that I didn't care but I did, I cared because you reminded my of Hogwarts and look where it got me? I'm dying and I hurt so much, too much, and I've changed, you've changed me. You. I don't care about it anymore, I'm still scared, I'm so fucking scared, but I don't care that you're a Muggle-born or a Gryffindor or that I'm a Slytherin because it never truly mattered. I don't care about the stupid bloodline because I'll still be rich and you'll still be you and there's nothing wrong with you and it wouldn't noticeably change anything. And I just wish…that we had another chance. But we don't, and you have to move on, because I don't want you to live a horrible life because of me. I seem to always make your life horrible. That was once my goal, but now..."

He stopped. She stared. He felt suddenly foolish and lowered his head. He had just rambled off too much information, and had not stopped himself; had not contained himself. But he was dying. She lifted his head up with her index finger and she was crying and so was he and it all felt too incredibly real that it surely couldn't be happening, could it? "You don't make my life horrible." She whispered, and then they were kissing again, and he hated it but loved it at the same time. He deserved this, he really did, but she did not, she did not deserve to need him and love him and then have him leave her. He was not supposed to care; he was Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake, but he did and he could not even help it. He pulled away and instead pulled her against him and they lay down together on the bed.

"I won't marry you. I refuse to." He whispered.

"I know."

:::

"Hermione told me you wanted to go."

Draco was sitting up in his bed, now, with his arms crossed over his chest. All signs of his former meltdown were gone. Hermione had crept out of his bed when he supposed she thought he was asleep, most likely going somewhere to be alone and think. "Sure am." He surveyed Potter's face for a moment, who looked troubled. "This is it, isn't it?" He asked quietly.

Harry nodded. "Yes. I have to end it before he makes another Horcrux."

They sat in silence for a moment, until Harry said, "About you and Hermione…"

"Don't." Draco grimaced. "Please don't give me a lecture."

"Fine. So…where do you suppose they're keeping Ron? I'll admit it, having you there will certainly help since you know your way around."

Draco thought for a moment, picturing the many halls of Azkaban in his head. "Probably in some random cell. It will be difficult to find him."

Harry nodded, as if he had been expecting this. Then he stood. "We're leaving tonight at one. Don't be late. I have to go speak with Snape."

"I thought we weren't telling any of the adults?"

"I'm not. He wants to talk to me. Be ready for tonight, Draco. This is it."

Draco understood the unspoken words. By the end of tonight, one side would come out the winner. The War would finally have a definite winner and a definite loser. It would either be cast into darkness once and for all or brought back out into the light again. By the end of tonight, the world would be changed forever.

He could not help but think that everything seemed to favor the side that he was not on.

A/N: So I know Draco is a bit OOC in this chapter, but he's dying and I figured that that sort of thing would put stuff into perspective :) Sorry I left you guys on a bit of a half-cliffie before I go, but hey, at least Draco is still alive and so is Ron! XD I'll try my hardest to get another chapter in before Thursday, but no promises, so in the meantime, review!