Chapter 20 - Choose me
The flames soared higher. Hermione jumped back and almost hit Marcus Flint.
"Hurry up, Malfoy," Marcus snarled. "Friend... or foe?"
Draco's eyes flashed wildly. "Flint," he snapped. "Cut it out and get out."
Marcus smiled, a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "As you wish," he said, pleased and Apparated out.
Draco glared at him. "Get her out of here!"
Marcus smirked and snapped his fingers. The fire got wilder and the space around Hermione became more cramped. Hermione yelped and almost lost her balance and life.
"I can't do that, Malfoy," Marcus said calmly as he watched Draco eye Hermione worriedly. "We are Deatheaters," he continued. "It's our job to kill Mudbloods."
Draco looked thoughtful and nodded his head. "Yes..." he said slowly. "You are right."
The other three looked at him in surprise. Neither of them would have thought Draco would agree with him. Marcus even started to look uncertain.
"She has ruined my life, Flint," Draco continued, pretending that he had not seen the confused looks on their faces. "Toyed with my feelings for far too long." He paused, and turned to look at Marcus. "I had enough of her. All I ask is that you let me kill her myself."
Hermione gasped at Draco's icy tone and cruel words. Unwanted tears flooded her usually brown eyes. She tried to swallow down her dry throat. She saw Ginny's eyes filled with sympathy and felt a pang of annoyance shoot through her. Why did Draco have to bring her along? Who knows - maybe Draco had not expected Hermione to be here? Maybe he planned to let me see all this, Hermione thought bitterly.
Draco took the wand from Marcus and pointed it at her. Hermione blinked back her tears to clear her vision. She stared at Draco's lips, trying to make out what spell he was casting on her. It said "unda". Water.
The fire around Hermione vanished and in its place was ice. Hermione shivered. Even though the temperature had changed, beads of perspiration were visible on her forehead. Her clothes were drenched in her own perspiration. She felt strangely feverish. Was he going to turn the fire into water? Hermione thought to herself, consoled by the image.
Too bad the spell had to backfire.
Hermione watched as Draco and Marcus got into an argument, which was then conveniently followed by a fight. Ginny's eyes, too, watched them, then rotated her head so that her eyes met Hermione's. Ginny took out her wand from her pocket and Hermione heard her speak for the first time that day.
"Abeo glacies," she shouted out, and distracted Draco and Marcus. All four of them watched as the frozen ice around Hermione begin to melt and vanish. Hermione broke out in cold sweat and her face turned white. Before any of them could do anything, she passed out.
"Ginny! Catch her!" Draco yelled, not knowing that Ginny had reached forward to grab Hermione on instinct. Draco and Marcus eyed each other.
"You're a disgrace," Marcus spat, pointing his wand at Draco. Draco grimaced. He had no wand, no defense, except probably his fists and feet. He wished he had taken the time to learn a bit more karate.
"And you are annoying me," Draco replied calmly, despite the fears he withheld inside of him. One fist in front of another, one feet before another, Draco was in fighting position. "If you're a man, you wouldn't use your wand."
Marcus smirked. "The Sorting Hat should have sort you in Gryffindor." He leaned in so that his face was close to Draco's. "Do Slytherins fight fair?" he murmured.
No, we don't. Draco swallowed silently and pasted a cold smile on his face. "How old are you, Flint? Still ranting on about Hogwarts?" he commented. "Really."
Marcus narrowed his eyes. "Don't pretend to be all high and mighty, Malfoy," he sneered and waved his wand at Draco before Draco could answer. "Avada Kedavera!"
Hermione opened her eyes and gazed at the white, misty room. If it was a room, to begin with. She looked around her and saw that she was alone. She vaguely wondered what was the point of being in a place if nothing was going to happen like it did at the Manor when Draco became a Deatheater or Ron dying in an unfair way.
"Hermione." a soft voice called, almost inaudible.
Hermione turned and would have jumped back if her feet had not felt as if they were stuck on the spot. Jarette Granger stood a distance before her. Tears rolled down her cheeks before she knew it. She recalled her sweet sixteen when Pulcheria had told Jarette to organise a huge gathering. Her father had disagreed, for he had felt his daughter's sorrow and understood she did not need the extra attention.
All sorts of memories flew into Hermione's mind as she stared up to Jarette, the once familiar person who had played an important role in her life. "Dad," she whispered.
Jarette broke into a smile. Hermione returned him a smile of her own, remembering that her father was, although conservative, cheerful and positive. "Come here, my child."
Hermione found that she had no control of her feet as they were walking towards Jarette willingly without any commands. "Dad..." she whispered again.
Jarette's smile changed from a happy one to a sad one. "I hope you forgive me, Hermione. I did not mean to leave you."
"I don't blame you," she murmured, sniffing. "I'm here to join you, Dad."
Jarette frowned at his daughter. His eyes were full or emotions, yet unreadable to Hermione. "You mustn't stay here, in Heaven. You are being needed on Earth."
Hermione said nothing. She saw no point in returning. Ron was dead, Harry and Ginny hated her and Draco probably found her a bore. After all, he was with Ginny this afternoon.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't want to go back."
"Please, Hermione." Jarette's voice was pleading. "Go back. Haven't I taught you never to give up so easily? Have you forgotten?"
She looked down at her feet, not knowing what to think. Of course she had remembered. She remembered the first word her father had said to him, up till the last word, before she knew he had passed away.
"I have no one back there, Dad," she said quietly. She felt Jarette's handsome face frown at her again.
"You have the Malfoys," he told her soothingly. "And most importantly, you have Draco."
Hermione's face was now tearful. She did not care how her father knew about Draco. Those words were what she was desperate to hear. "I have Draco," she repeated softly. Hermione felt herself starting to fade. The last thing she saw was her father's encouraging smile.
Draco's body jerked backwards. Fear rose unexpectedly. He felt almost hysterical. I must not die, he told himself fiercely. Not when Hermione is still on Earth. I cannot leave her alone.
Suddenly, he felt as if the world was spinning. Warmth filled his body and he welcomed it gladly. He was okay, he was alive. Whereas Marcus was not.
Marcus Flint was white and stiff and unconscious on the floor. Draco was delighted to announce to Ginny that Marcus was dead. He even laughed, probably out of relief, at Ginny's disgusted look regarding his gleeful grin.
Hermione stirred, to Draco's relief. She woke up and threw her hands around Draco, surprising him. That was before he felt Hermione's temperature against his skin. "You are having a high fever!" Draco exclaimed, stating the obvious. He, then turned to Ginny. "Can you..."
Ginny nodded and cast the Frigus spell on Hermione. She immediately cooled down. In four seconds, Draco was wet from Hermione's tears. She was rambling unnecessary about not treasuring him.
"Oh, Hermione," he said, calming her with his soothing voice. "I'm the one who was taking you for granted." He paused. "I know... that I'm a Deatheater and I would understand if you will reject this but..." Draco paused again, thinking hard. "I would feel very honoured if you, Hermione Granger, would agree... to be my wife."
There was a moment of silence. Then Hermione gasped and hugged him again. "Yes," she was saying. "Yes, yes, yes."
And, of course, this story was thus sealed... with a kiss.