A/N: Like I say at the beginning of every chapter now, I'm sorry it took me so long to post this! I actually wrote it months ago, but I wasn't quite satisfied and thought I would make it longer…but I figured you guys would probably be happier with a short chapter than no chapter at all, and as soon as I post this I'm going to start on chapter 14. I hope you enjoy this rather angsty chapter, despite the fact that it's pretty short!

DEFEATED WE RISE

Chapter 13: Disillusionment

            I ran my hand through my short red hair and sighed in agitation and deep worry. For God's sake, she could have at least told me what she really had in mind! Back in Hogwarts, Hermione had been headstrong and cocky, and she came up with crazy ways to avenge her parents. We all thought we were at the top of the world; we thought we could do anything. As time passed, we saw war, death, and sorrow. It wasn't a game anymore, and we developed suiting stratagems. All of our silly plans died away. And all those years, I thought she had given up on hers, too. We all knew it was a suicide mission and not worth it; Malfoy Manor wasn't listed on the Floo network and it would be next to impossible to reach her.

            And yet, she had gone and done it. It had been over a day since she had invaded Trafalgar Apartments; it had been a day since she had 'abandoned' us. Right now I was the only one who knew what had really happened, and here I was, sitting all alone in my office, at the Ministry of Magic, feeling powerless and waiting for Harry to arrive.

***

            I pounded my fist angrily on the mahogany desk, and then paused in horror and contemplation; this was the desk my father had beaten while trying to beat into my head the fact that love didn't exist. Here I was, a grown man and a fool, having to accept his words as truth and still finding it very difficult. I couldn't believe that I had wasted six years of my life in regret, mourning over my lost love with a woman who ended up being traitorous and conniving. But why would she tell you everything if she didn't love you?

            I bent my head and succumbed to a state only she could provoke. Once again, I found myself a weak man, giving in to my emotions and letting tears slide down my cheeks in bitter anguish. I wanted her to be the innocent, sweet young girl she had once been, before I had betrayed her trust and hardened her heart. Anyone would stoop to her level if they thought they had been betrayed like that. You would have killed her. I stood and began to pace the room, trying to reach the correct conclusion; I knew she was it, but she had become a disappointment. I felt young and spoiled and disillusioned.

            And suddenly, it was all too much. All I'd ever wanted was a simple love, a pure love. I didn't want to be stuck with this hell. I didn't want to deal with her or think about her or have to take care of her. Having reached a decision, I acted. I stormed out of the study and into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of scotch, locked myself in my bedroom and drowned away my sorrows.

***

            I lay on the stone floor in exhaustion. First I had screamed for him, then I had screamed at him, and then something had snapped, and I was like a rabid animal, tearing at my cage and at myself, until I was entirely spent. Now all I could do was let out little whimpering cries, relive the memories and try to put all the puzzle pieces together.

            My heart swelled at what he had done for me, what he had sacrificed; but from fullness it contracted and bile crept up my throat. I was in his dungeon. I was Draco Malfoy's prisoner, because he didn't have any forgiveness left in him. I had done a horrible thing, but I didn't think he loved me; I thought love was some childhood game that I would never really know anything of…and I had been wrong.

            I curled into a ball on the floor and tried to stop the flood of memories. The feel of his lips on mine, his voice whispering my name, telling me he loved me…his lust for power and his lack of forgiveness, dragging me down the dungeons without so much as flinching at my screams; this was the man I loved and hated and wanted to forget with my whole heart. I curled up into a tighter ball, trying to make all the thoughts go away. I shook with anger and exhaustion, fear and cold. My heart was cold and my body shivered. I was wandless and powerless and entirely at his mercy. All I wanted was to be back in my apartment, with a bottle of cheap wine and the TV remote, foolishly dreaming dreams that would never exist, staring at his picture on a screen that would never tell me the truth. God, how I hated disillusionment.

***

            "Hey, Ron. Sorry I'm so late. What did you want to talk about?"

            I took a deep breath. It was so bizarre to think that the rest of the world didn't even realize Hermione was gone. "Hey, Harry. Have a seat. Let me get you a drink."

            "Ron, you remember I swore off alcohol with Ginny when she got pregnant. I better pass."

            "I don't think you're gonna want to pass this one up. What I'm about to tell you isn't exactly either of our cups of tea." I handed him a shot of my strongest scotch and he looked at the amber liquid questioningly. Then his eyes met mine and I knew I had to go ahead and tell him.

            "Listen, Harry…you remember how fanatical Hermione was in seventh year about avenging her parents' deaths…do you remember her plan?"

            He looked at me, pleading with his eyes that I wouldn't tell him what I had to tell him; that she had gone and done it.

            "She didn't. She wouldn't have. You know she's not that stupid, Ron."

            "Harry, I'm sorry mate…Sirius ordered her to lead the troops into Trafalgar Apartments. I talked to her beforehand, and she said she was going to go in and pretend to be in love with him, you  know, and get the Amulet and get out. She told me that if she wasn't back by the next day to take it as a bad sign. She seemed to have all her wits about her and she seemed fine, but…maybe something snapped. You know she was still in love with him."

            Harry swallowed the scotch and put his head in his hands, ruffling through his messy black hair. Then he stood up, looking slightly crazed. "She's our best mate, Ron. What can we do?"

            "I started working on it as soon as she left, but the Malfoy Manor isn't part of the Floo network and it would take a few days to get there by broom. But, um…as Minister of Magic, I do have a few special privileges, only if we get caught …Christ, I don't know…"

            "Such as?"

            "After the war started, every wizarding house was required to have a portal. Some of the dark wizards did pull some nasty tricks which make several portals potentially life-threatening, but I do have a port key which will take us right to the Malfoy door."

            "I hate port keys…"