Chapter Nineteen- Pawns

Meet me outside.

Bold of you to assume I'm not otherwise preoccupied.

Don't be a smart arse Malfoy. Are you really that engrossed in Haml

His reply cut her off before she'd even finished writing:

I'll be there.

He didn't look particularly pleased to see her, blond hair as cold and white as the winter sun, black coat buttoned up to his chin, green scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. He grimaced when he got close to her. "What do you want?"

Hermione pursed her lips together and glared. "Aren't you in a good mood today."

"Shakespeare's tragedies don't tend to cheer me up," replied Draco. He paused. "In fact, I think there would have to be something very wrong with me if they did."

Despite herself, Hermione laughed. She couldn't keep the softness out of her gaze when she looked at him and she knew he noticed by the way a crease nestled between his eyebrows.

He cleared his throat. "What did you want anyway?"

Hermione blinked. "Oh," she said. "Yes. That. I need you to wear the Cloak again."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? And where exactly do you plan on taking me?"

"Somewhere that will do you some good," she replied, adding almost as an afterthought, "Whether you like it or not."

Draco's frown deepened but he followed her inside the castle to a little alcove where she could retrieve the Cloak from her bag and pass it to him. Hermione memorised his face before he disappeared; it always unnerved her when she couldn't see him.

He cleared his throat when he was fully concealed.

"Let's go then," she said.

They walked in silence, though Hermione wasn't too put off by it. Seeing Draco after her meeting with Harry and Ron had been strange. She noticed things she hadn't before; the colour of his eyes, more like ice than Ron's sky-blue, the point of his cheekbones and chin, the faintness of his eyebrows, the fineness of his hair compared to Harry's thick curls. He was about as tall as Ron, though he was slender where Ron was gangly, composed where Ron might be clumsy. Hermione also noticed the way he looked at her, not softly like Harry, not with the crinkles by his eyes like Ron, but steadily, like she was a jigsaw puzzle he enjoyed working out.

"You're not kidnapping me, are you, Granger?" asked Draco, and Hermione jumped, turning to look at him, before realising she couldn't see him.

She scoffed, shoving her hair from her face. The wind was just as ferocious as it had been that morning which was lucky for them; their words were swallowed by the wind. "Somehow, I don't think that would put either one of us in good stead for your trial."

He fell quiet again at that and Hermione reached out blindly for him. Draco took her hand and she squeezed it.

They made their way into Hogsmeade fairly quickly and despite the cold, Hermione felt a blush stain her cheeks and neck when she remembered the last time they'd been here. She wished they could've stayed in that moment forever. Her conversation with Harry and Ron just an hour ago made her feel, more profoundly than ever, like time was counting down to Draco's day of reckoning. She could only recite a hurried string of prayers in her head that he would be willing to let Harry and Ron help. She couldn't have him lose what little will to live he'd salvaged.

Hermione let go of his hand once they got to The Three Broomsticks, pushing the door open and holding it for a moment. Draco brushed his fingers across her waist as he passed to let her know he was inside. She tingled where he'd touched her.

Moving inside, she shed herself of her coat and hat, holding them to her chest, and made her way to the staircase at the back, trusting Draco would follow her. It wasn't as busy as earlier, with most students having made their way back to the school in the late afternoon for tea. Sure enough, Hermione heard the creaking behind her on the steps as they ascended.

When they got to the first floor, Hermione stopped. "You can, erm, take that off now."

There was a moment when nothing happened and then Draco appeared in front of her. His hair was mussed, his cheeks pink from the cold. He raised a single eyebrow. "Are you going to tell me why you've dragged me to a hotel room? Careful, Granger. I might get the wrong idea."

His usual drawl did nothing to make her feel better. Draco noticed and narrowed his eyes at her.

Hermione stole a second to take a deep breath before she knocked on the door. Beside her, she saw Draco frown. She twisted her hat in her hands, deaf to the question Draco was asking her as the door opened and Harry stood before them.

"Malfoy," greeted Harry, hand on the doorknob, loitering awkwardly. He pushed his glasses up his nose, though they hadn't slid an inch. He straightened all of a sudden, motioning the room, and Hermione could see the Auror in him, "Come in, please."

Draco stood in the doorway. He didn't move. He didn't even look to be breathing. Hermione lightly touched his back and he seemed to jolt into action, moving into the room. Harry closed the door behind them.

"Sit down, Draco," Hermione said quietly.

He looked at her. "I'll stand."

The silence that swallowed the room was quick and sharp, sending a chill to Hermione's bones.

Harry cleared his throat. "You look well," he said.

Draco let out a harsh laugh. "You mean I'm not dead."

"I mean, you look well," replied Harry, a little tensely, sounding like he was talking through gritted teeth.

"All things considering," added Ron, leaning back on the bed. "Still a bit ferrety, though."

Hermione's eyes widened and she levelled a glare so furious at him, he winced.

"No but," he said after a moment and there was a reluctant sincerity in his eyes and the set of his mouth. "It's good to see you alive, Malfoy."

Draco stared at him, eyes wide, the skin of his face pallid and grey, stretched taut over his skull. Words seemed to evade him. He nodded, for longer than necessary, unravelling then tightening the scarf around his neck.

"Here," said Hermione softly, taking a step towards him. "Take your coat off. It's warm in here."

He flinched away from her and she froze. Draco seemed to realise it too. He glanced at each of them evenly. "Why am I here?"

Hermione crossed her arms around her chest, hugging herself. She bit her lip and said, when Harry prompted her with a look, "We think we have a way to prove your innocence."

Draco didn't react for a moment and she wondered if he'd heard her, before his legs gave way and faltered beneath him and he fell to the floor. She rushed forward but Harry reached him before her, hooking his hands under Draco's arms to hoist him back to his feet. Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist still, sitting beside him on the bed. He felt so limp against her, his body heavy against her side.

He was murmuring something, under his breath, a broken murmur. She leaned closer so she could hear it.

"Why?"

The only response was quiet, then Ron said, not looking at him, "Because you didn't snitch on us. You knew it was us, at your house. But you still bought us some time. We'd have been dead in an instant if not for you."

Draco shook his head and his face crumpled. Hermione felt each sob rack his chest but he fought to bite them back, keeping silent. She held him closer, resting her head on his shoulder, murmuring in his ear; she missed the look Harry and Ron shared.

"Draco-"

"No," he whispered, his head lolling on hers. He was trembling. "No. I didn't. I didn't. I just stood there, I didn't do anything, I should've done something. I let her do it. Granger, I let her, I just stood there-"

Hermione froze up, her breath stolen from her lips. The material of her jumper felt dense and hot on her sleeve, sticking to the scar, opening it up again.

"-I should've done… I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so-"

"Malfoy," said Harry abruptly, crouching in front of him. His voice was steady and strong and Draco stopped talking to stare at him. "You couldn't have done anything. You couldn't have done a single damn thing. That's not a crime. If you'd have tried, you wouldn't be sitting here now. You'd be dead, do you get that? Don't hate yourself for being alive, Malfoy. Don't. It will only end up destroying you and trust me, I know."

Hermione stared at her best friend, her lips parted, her eyes red, cheeks wet from where a few of her tears had fallen. She sniffed and wiped at her face, glancing away and caught Ron watching her, a strange look on his face, a question on his lips.

She was saved from answering him when Draco muttered, "How? How are you going to prove I-?"

He didn't finish, but Harry knew what he was asking anyway and offered him a smile. It was strained and he looked away for a moment to compose himself before meeting Malfoy's gaze and speaking in a low voice, "I was there. That night. You're not the only one who's used the Cloak to sneak out of Hogwarts." Harry smiled, his lips thin, his eyes trying to be light but darkening. He didn't continue for a few seconds.

"Dumbledore knew," he said quietly, suddenly, staring at Malfoy so the other boy had no choice but to listen to every word, to heed it, to understand. "As soon as we got back to the castle, he tried to get rid of me but- we heard someone coming up the stairs and he paralysed me. I was still under the Cloak. I- I couldn't move, I just watched as you came in and-" Harry closed his eyes. Hermione saw he was shaking, clutching his hands so tightly on his knees that his knuckles turned white. When he started talking, she realised it was anger that had him shaking so. "Dumbledore knew all along what you were doing. Snape was his man and he told Dumbledore everything." Harry swallowed. "Dumbledore was dying."

Malfoy clung to his words like a dying man clutching at one last breath.

"He was dying already. Before our Sixth Year, he'd found and destroyed one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. I remember his hand when he took me to see Slughorn, it- it was black and rotten. Cursed. God knows how he lasted the year, really… That's where Snape came in. Dumbledore asked him to kill him, in the end, so it wouldn't have to be you. He knew the only reason Voldemort had asked you was because it would make you the owner of the Elder Wand and all he had to do then was kill you to get his hands on it. You were just as much a pawn as I was. Dumbledore pushed- he pushed us both around-"

"He tried to do right, Harry," Hermione protested.

"He didn't try hard enough then!" Harry realised he'd raised his voice at her and took a deep breath. "He had no right to keep us in the dark. I- I'm sorry about that day," he said suddenly, looking at Draco again. He was almost pained, guilt staining his eyes. "In the bathroom. I knew you were up to something but I didn't- I didn't even think it was-"

"It's okay," muttered Draco. "I'm sorry I-"

"It's okay," said Harry.

When neither boy said anything else, Hermione wrapped her arm tighter around Draco and said, "Harry was there too, which means he can prove your innocence. He can testify and give his memory of that night for the Wizengamot to watch. It might just work, Draco."

Draco looked at her finally, and she noticed how close they were. She felt his eyelashes flutter, the breath from his lips. His hand tentatively came up behind her to hold her back. "My trial is the 5th June," he said.

Hermione's face slackened. She looked quickly at Harry, then Ron. "Draco. The 5th- you know?"

He nodded, his grip tightening on her. Hermione stared at him, though his eyes remained fixed on the floor. She stroked his side, before unwrapping his scarf and unbuttoning his coat, pushing it from his shoulder and arms, standing up and moving to throw it over the armchair with hers.

"Does anyone want a drink?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence of the room. She needed one.

"A Firewhiskey sounds great," said Ron, getting to his feet and stretching. "I'll come with you. Harry?"

Harry nodded, but didn't say anything. Hermione asked softly, "Draco, do you want anything?"

He dragged an arm across his face but didn't look up. "Please."

She nodded, and left the room, Ron following behind her. There was a kind of relief when they escaped into the rowdiness of the pub downstairs, weaving their way to the bar.

"Somehow, I doubt you offered to come with me because you wanted to see Madam Rosmerta again," said Hermione, turning to him.

Ron chuckled, scratching his jaw. "Yeah. I didn't think I could offer anything up there."

She bit her lip, ordering four Firewhiskeys when the barmaid addressed her. Ron raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She wasn't usually a drinker.

"I didn't-" he broke off. Hermione levelled her gaze on him. Ron cleared his throat. "I didn't expect him to be so broken."

"He's not broken," she said immediately.

"Sorry, I didn't mean that." He sounded sorry, too, Hermione noticed. She hadn't expected him to be like this. She had expected him to call her mad. "I meant he's not what I expected."

She almost laughed. "No. Me neither."

"How did you- how did you become friends?"

Hermione leaned against the bar, eyes staring off into the distance. She could almost hear her lonely footsteps against the cold stone of the corridor, almost see him on the floor, head bowed, band blinking around his ankle. "I couldn't sleep," she said quietly. "Not for a long time. Nightmares, you know. I kept reliving it all. And then, sometimes, it was things I had dreaded happening but didn't… So I would go on a walk through the castle. That was how I bumped into him." Hermione offered him a small smile. "Draco couldn't sleep either. We made a habit of it."

Ron nodded. "You said he helped you sleep. In your letter. What do you mean?"

She laughed a little at that, brushing her hair from her face and said, still smiling, "He told me to drink Jasmine Tea."

"Are you-" Ron broke off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, and she felt unease coil in her stomach. He said, in a rush of breath, almost as if he was worried he wouldn't be able to ask it any other way, "Are you and Malfoy dating?"

Hermione's mouth dropped. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. "No! Gosh, no. I- Ronald, no. We're- we're not… Together. No."

Ron's shoulders relaxed and he grinned a little, relief washing over his face, flooding his eyes. "Blimey, I was gonna say. You did have me worried there for a while, Mione."

"We've only really known each other a couple months," she said, repeating lamely, "Really."

"Yeah," he said, shrugging. "Yeah, you're right. And it's not like you'd ever fancy the bloke, after all he did to you, you know, before."

Hermione paused, then shook her head. "I've forgotten about all that. It's the past. I don't want to dwell there."

Ron nodded slowly, then offered her a lopsided, sheepish smile. "Imagine that. You and the ferret."

She laughed with him, even as her stomach whirled. "Yeah."

"On the upside, he doesn't seem as annoying as he was," said Ron, grinning.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "He has his moments."

Their drinks were placed in front of them then, and Ron told the barmaid to charge it to his room. He took the tray, despite her protests, claiming it would do his core some good and she laughed and swatted his arm, nearly sending the glasses to the floor already, and they made their way back to the staircase.

"I hope it works," said Ron suddenly.

Hermione nearly stopped on the steps, wanting to see his face, but she didn't want the drinks to go down her back.

"Yes," she said instead. "So do I."

More than anything, went unsaid, and she hoped he didn't hear it. More than passing NEWTS. More than finding my parents. More than anything.

As they approached the door, Hermione heard murmuring and she paused. Ron almost walked into the back of her, but he managed to save the drinks tray in time, asking her incredulously if her legs had stopped working but she shushed him.

Floating through the door, she heard Draco's voice, weak and low, "Why are you helping me?"

There was a long sigh. Someone paced the room. A creak of the bed. Then, Harry said tiredly, "Because I know what it's like to be used. To be thrown away. To not have a choice."

Silence.

"I just don't want to be scared anymore." Draco sounded so small and Hermione felt her heart shatter in her chest. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the door. Ron's hand found her shoulder.

"I know," said Harry. "I know, Malfoy. I don't either."

AN: I'm so glad you all liked the reunion in the last chapter! One thing I dislike about Dramione fics is their tendency to make Ron a really bad character who goes out of his way to make Hermione miserable and that's what drives her into Draco's arms. Sure, Fourth Year didn't paint him in a good light but he was only young and dealing with complicated emotions he couldn't understand. So it was really important to me that I did Ron justice and gave him the credit he deserves. I also feel like Harry and Draco have a lot to talk about; their stories are paralleled really nicely but in the end, they were both just pawns expected to die and I find that very tragic indeed.

You guys really are the best in the world. I had to write this next one quickly just because I wanted to give you another chapter! Regarding my last AN, I know 45 seems a lot of chapters but trust me when I say, there is a LOT left. This is Dramione and it is an angsty romance but that doesn't mean I'm sacrificing any plot so there's so much left I can't wait for you to read! To give you a hint, we still have Draco's trial, more fluff, more angst, parents, and what happens after Hogwarts…