A few months earlier.
Cold sweat ran down Hermione's back, but she did not stop. Her legs were on fire, her lungs were burning, her head was throbbing. Her whole body was screaming for her to take a break. To lean against the wall for just a moment, close her eyes and draw new strength. But she had no time to lose. She had to find Harry.
She had separated herself from Ron to look for Harry. Battle raged throughout the castle, Death Eaters and Order members engaged in duels everywhere. She herself had moved away from the fighting to search for Harry on the upper floors, but to no avail. It was far more likely that he was somewhere on the estates anyway. And so, she ran along the corridors and down stairs to find Ron again.
She was glad that not a soul was up here. If she was honest, she did not know if she could even cast a curse right now. She was more exhausted than she had been in a long time. The many weeks on the run were in her bones, and she had been awake far too long today.
With quick steps she hurried down the long stairs to the second floor. She could always rest when it was all over. All that mattered now was defeating Voldemort and his followers.
Her foot stepped onto nothing.
Before she could really realise what was happening, she toppled over, unrestrained. Desperately she tried to break her fall with her hands, but there was nothing to hold onto on the cold stone stairs. Hard she hit the floor, rolling over from her own momentum until she rolled down the final steps.
Her wand flew out of her hand as the back of her head hit the ground. All the air was forced out of her lungs; she could not even scream in pain. For a moment she lay on her back, eyes closed, struggling to just keep breathing. Then a dull throbbing in her ankle made itself felt and it occurred to Hermione that she must have twisted it in her haste.
Cursing inwardly, she opened her eyes - and stared directly into the pale face of Draco Malfoy.
Every muscle in her body tensed. Malfoy stood before her, his wand pointed at her. His face was unreadable, a mask of ice. Hectically, her eyes searched the ground for her own wand. It was not far away. As a matter of fact, it was right next to Malfoy's foot.
Hermione tried to reach for it with her hand, but he was quicker. With one fluid movement, he took a step to the side and now held her wand trapped under his foot. Still, he had his wand pointed at her.
"Malfoy," Hermione began slowly, but immediately broke off again. What was there to say? He was to blame for Dumbledore's death. Even if he did not betray them when they were held captive in his house, his other actions spoke volumes.
Nervously, she licked her lips. Perhaps, if she was quick, she could roll to the side and jump up before he could hit her with a curse? But even if she succeeded, she would never be able to run away from him. Not with an injured ankle.
"Malfoy, please," she tried again. "You don't have to ... no one would know ..."
"No one would know I killed you?"
The icy coldness in his voice made Hermione wince. She could not believe that a classmate, a boy her age, was standing over her, ready to kill her. She just could not believe it.
"If you let me go," she continued pleadingly, "no one would know. No one is here. Please. Malfoy ... I know you hate me. And Harry and Ron. But ... do you really want to become a murderer?"
An ugly grin contorted his face. "In your eyes, I'm already a murderer, aren't I?"
Assertively, Hermione shook her head. "No! No, you're not! We all know that Snape, not you, cast the Killing Curse!"
Breathing heavily, she stared up at him. She was all too aware that she was lying on the floor in front of Malfoy, without her wand, exhausted and injured. Whatever his intentions, she would not be able to stop him. She felt panic gnawing at her consciousness, but she forced herself not to give in to it. She had been able to talk her way out of other situations. She would not give up.
Blinking, she noticed Malfoy looking up and down the corridor. Was he making sure no one was there? Was he going to kill her without any witnesses?
Suddenly he crouched down beside her, wand still in hand but no longer pointed at her. The icy mask on his face gave way to exhausted resignation.
Cautiously, Hermione straightened up. Draco positioned himself between her and her wand, so she was still not out of danger, but he no longer seemed as hostile as he had a second before.
"Can you heal yourself?"
The words came so quietly that Hermione almost did not hear them. For a moment she stared speechlessly at the blond boy before her, then nodded quickly.
Before she could say more, Malfoy stood up again. He emphatically took a step to the side so that she could finally reach for her wand. She looked up at him questioningly, but his expression had already closed again. She did not understand what was going on inside him, but she sensed that he meant her no harm.
"I'm going to turn around now and walk slowly away down the corridor."
He emphasised each word and looked her urgently in the eyes after he finished the sentence. Then, again without waiting for her reaction, he did as he announced: he turned around, wand still ready in one hand, and left. He simply walked away, his back to her. And did not look back.
Hermione's gaze fell on her own wand, which she finally had in her hand again. It would probably be wiser to take Malfoy out. After all, despite everything, he was on the side of the Death Eaters.
But she did not.