Bound
By Angel Of Music

Chapter Sixteen: Midnight Flowers, Common Men, and Infinity.

"In my name you'd dare to fall? Against evil power you'd dare to fight? Perhaps you don't know the danger of what lies ahead of you." Draco admonished, teasing her hand slightly. "Do you realize that you could be killed?" Hermione frowned, staring him in the eyes with a sturdy gaze.

"I am willing to do whatever it takes to end the tyranny and dictatorship that arises with the name of Voldemort. No more will people shout 'you know who' in the streets. If we perish, we will perish in immolation. Draco, don't you understand? This is our chance! You've told me before, you love me. And no longer will a stupid, silly bond keep us from expressing that. Within your love, we have the only strength we need to keep in order to defeat him. Hear me." She drew back her hand, penetrating his stare. "Hear me." He nodded and bit his lower lip, pondering.

"But can we do this alone? Will we need alliances?" Hermione shook her head fervently.

"No. We must do it on our own, for we are the ones directly affected by Voldemort's cruelty." Standing, she slowly turned about to depart. "A name can withhold so much more than a title." She spoke softly after a moment. "Enclosed in the name of the Dark Lord is power, pain, dread, angst, hope, terror- love. Enclosed in the name of the Dark Lord is simply the features of an everyday person. Maybe this is the reason wizards fear to speak his label." Pausing, she winked at him. "That oughtta give you something to think about." Grinning slightly, but less than gallantly, she swept out of the room, cloak bellowing behind her.

The features of an everyday person.
* * *
June came more quickly than anyone had hoped. It was a typical beginning of June, to be precise, with thick summer flowers just starting to bloom and students bustling to study for the upcoming exams; Hogwarts became like a busy train station bursting with travelers.

Hermione and Draco had done mostly planning, with the occasional persuasion by Hermione to attempt to study for their exams. They had read nearly every book in the dark arts defense section of the library, and had paid very close attention in Dark Arts class. It was crucial that they learned all they could. Though they each promised each other they were nearing ready, nothing- NOTHING could have been farther from the truth. On the inside, each had a flaming fear of the end-of-the-year events, and secretly prayed to whomever was listening that someone would find a way to end the madness for them.

They had sworn to tell no one about their plan, for each knew how word spread. If one told a friend, then friend articulated it to another friend, and so forth, pretty soon the whole of Hogwarts would know, and dreadfully, the word could be passed to Voldemort. Draco shuddered as the thought entered his mind. He could lose Hermione. The Hermione in which was now his. The Hermione in which he was bound to.

Unfortunately, from Draco's knowledge of the world that he pledged he had, he knew that the worst was not over; not even nearly over. The fears that had danced through his mind as his life flowed by were now being shoved in his face; he'd have to stand up to his father, to Blaise, to Voldemort. And the only person that he had to help him, though it hurt him to admit this, was a silly mudblood with nothing but thoughts of peace and goodness. He knew it would not be as easy as she had planned it to be. After all, he was the strongest, darkest wizard upon the known universe, and the thought did not comfort him. He saw the way Hermione's eyes darted uneasily about the room as she softly spoke, shattering his hopes like a ball through a window. Her words of encouragement hardly helped him, for he saw that Hermione knew neither would make it out of his grasp alive. It was the most morbid thing he'd ever dreamed of.

On this particular stellar evening, Draco was twiddling his thumbs, impatiently awaiting his love's arrival in the library. She'd promised to finalize the plans with him; to review exactly what they were to do. She happened to be moments late, and this was beginning to bother him. When she did arrive, she threw her rather weighty amount of books upon the table and collapsed into the simple wooden chair before her. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Where were you?" She exhaled and rolled her eyes.

"Dashing to my common room to get our books. You know I can't come straight from class like lucky you." He shook his head, the unique personality of Hermione taking time to settle in his mind.

"Lucky me." He mimicked, sneering. "And fortunate for you, likewise, I've found a book that you should like. It's got a list of folks in here that have died attempting to kill off Lord Voldemort, and all the spells they used."

"We need to know what TO use, not what NOT to use. I think you've gone mad with all the research. Must be more than your brain can take." He laughed curtly, then took her hand.

"You're asking for it, you know." He smiled. She quickly looked up at the ceiling, her eyes rolling back in a sarcastic exclamation. Beginning to look more serious, Draco coughed quietly, "Hermione, do you honestly think we can do this? I mean, we're only just learning. We aren't any match for that man- thing-" He paused, tripping upon his own words. "I know it, you know it. Damn, I'm sure Potter would even agree that Voldemort's no child. He's got powers that none of these books could ever dream of mentioning. He's got powers even he doesn't know about. It's an intimidating thought. I was lying in bed, wondering how we'd survive this, and then I realized: we can't. Is it worth risking your life? It's not even me that I care about, and that's saying something. It's you. You deserve better than this, and it's all because of me. You're risking it all because of something I have to do." She began to sigh.

"Draco, I don't know anything about the world, as I've been told. I don't know if we will live or we will die. But what I do know is, I love you, and whatever your doubts are, it will still be worth it. We will not die in vain, but as humbles. Do you understand me?" She had taken his face between her hands, and she began to stare dutifully at him, her vision plastered upon his. After a moment, he nodded. "Unfortunately," She began, her languid expression furrowed. "Neither of us are ready. But with your knowledge of the world and my knowledge of the Arts combined, we shall be able to teach each other." He shone her a puzzled look. "I can teach you the ways of the wand, while you, in turn, can tutor me upon the ways of Lord Voldemort." Draco nodded again delicately, a lock of hair falling from atop his head and perfectly framing his sincere face.

"And you mean this?" He asked after a moment. "Perhaps you aren't sure?" She bit her lip at him curiously and proceeded to respond.

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you positive that you truly love me?" Questioned he once more, slowly shutting his eyes. She frowned after a moment and began shaking her head.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life." She weakly grinned up at him. After inspecting her, he returned the grim smile.

"Then we've got a benefit." He paused, taking a second to inhale. He slowly ran a hand through his thin, lifeless hair, letting it dart across his eyes and fall messily back into place. He let out the air sparingly, and lied his head upon the oak table when he was through.

"I'm not sure I understand." To Hermione's surprise, Draco smirked at this.

"So my specialty comes into play already." He waited for his sneer to die, then proceeded. "My father once, when I was very young, told me a story that I shall never forget. It began with a woman; a woman called Lily. Lily was a bright, beautiful, budding lady, whom was kind and thoughtful and graceful. She would be pursued my many suitors, all of them craving her luxurious scent, her beauty, and her intellect. Most suitors were perfectly attainable, and some very useful. Alas, my father sighed, she could not find the correct one.

"Then, on a dank, violent eve, as the sun was quickly setting behind the misty treetops, a man by the name of James entered her life." Draco trailed off, allowing for Hermione's small gasp to penetrate his speech. After her excitement had settled, he continued. "James was a poor simpleton, a good Sumerian, a loyal boy. He was brave, yet humble. True and fun loving. And Lily began to admire him.

"Soon, they became good friends, then much more. And again, on a stormy, crisp night, James took another bold step. He proposed to Lily, under a blanket of thick rain, when they were only sixteen. Her brought her a single black Rose, Lily's favorite flower, to show his devotion to her. They were young, yes, but most certainly in love. Now you must understand," He interrupted himself, breaking off the story. "My father was a crude, stoic and emotionless man, whom despised love. This gallant tale of admiration to him was a simple trick of power. Don't worry, it goes forth." Draco smiled at the captured girl before him. "Anyway, they were married before their last years at school were completed, and settled down. After about 10 years, Lily was with child. A rather famous child. But no one wizard knew this at the time.

"Finally the day of the birth came, filled with 'rose petals and pain,' as my father used to describe it. The son was born. And they decided to entitle the boy 'Harry.' Harry Potter." Relishing the drama he was creating, Draco took Hermione's hand.

"A year passed." He continued. "It was after a year that the Potters were forced to move from their home, and into hiding. And it was in that dark shelter of the hiding that James and Lily Potter were killed. But the boy. That Harry Potter. He remained alive. My father rumored, as Voldemort appeared to have explained to him, that the purpose for the boy's survival was love. Lily Potter loved her son so damn much, Granger, that even the evil that Lord Voldemort possessed was not enough to harm the child. And this is where my knowledge of the world comes in handy." He concluded with a small grin that died with Hermione's expression.

"So that is why Harry Potter still remains." She sighed, clenching her fist. "Brilliant." She shone a weak smile and exhaled deeply. "Draco, I've never been more sure of anything in my entire existence: I love you."
* * *

"I don't know about this, Granger." Draco questioned profusely as Hermione shut a rusty, sullen door behind her. "The Imperius curse? Let's face it, I'll never learn to fight it off. I don't know what you're going to do about it."

"Well," She began, promptly thrusting her wand at him. "It's worth a try, isn't it? I mean, we have got three weeks, haven't we?" Draco frowned. He was helpless under Hermione's suggestion to teach him the avoidance of an unforgivable curse, even if he told her it was a bad idea. "You're not seriously doubting that you should learn this, are you?" He bit his lip. She furrowed her brow slightly in perplexed amusement. "You're just as difficult as the next Malfoy." He raised his eyebrows.

"Am I?" Swallowed by the notion of acting in any way similar to his father, he nodded. "Fine, then. Teach me. It doesn't mean I'm going to learn. Just because you think you're the smartest witch alive doesn't really signify that you can teach a boy that's as dumb as a pile of bricks to avoid the Imperius curse."

"So I'm not a mudblood anymore." She stated wryly, her fatally salmon lips upturned in a pleased smirk.

"Apparently not." He responded, returning the sneer. He admired her wit curtly, entranced with everything about her. Her imperfect, sandy and knotted tendrils, her plasma eyes, her shrewd, jokingly impatient temper; even the way her uneasiness seemed to lawfully project upon him. He loved the way she was anything but normal, the way she always seemed so indifferent and thoughtless. She was mediocre and astoundingly incredible all at once, such as a dove. Plain at sight, but emblematically beautiful. She was Hermione Granger.

And within an instant, he had pounced upon her, knocking her to the ground in a romantic fit of giggles, laughing mildly as she embraced his torso from below him. He looked down upon her now comely face, inhaling her unique, pleasant scent, and leaned down to kiss her. As he was but inches away, a stout knock came upon the door. Annoyed, he rolled his eyes, scoffed, and stood, stepping over her just as she too got to her feet. He leapt to the door and opened it.

"I heard a noise." Came the icy voice of Professor Severus Snape. "Just inspecting." He choked as he spotted Draco. Draco saluted him with an upturn of his chin and motioned towards the shaken Hermione.

"I was just showing Granger here a few tips you've taught us. She's irresponsive, unfortunately. If you'll just continue your rounds, I'll have her learned by evening. Good day, Professor." Professor Snape, aloof, raised a dark eyebrow.

"Carry on then, Mr. Malfoy." He hissed hesitantly. As the door shut, Hermione cast her gaze from Draco's very sturdy and serious stare.

"Hermione- I'm sorry- I honestly don't know what came over me."

"No, it's alright." She reassured uneasily, stifling her blush with a swipe of her palm. After a pause in which Draco had taken her hand, she coughed, "Now, where were we?" She twirled her wand between her long, pale and elegant fingers, holding back inconsequential tears. She wasn't quite positive of what came over her in that elongated series of moments. Perhaps it was the grave thought that she'd lose her only true sense of love within weeks, and the days of this amazing romance would end, due to a prideful death. She found no reassurance within her, and the threads of hope that she once dangled upon had broken, and left her falling. She shut her eyes softly, a single, silent tear dancing down her cheek. It swiveled mockingly down her chin, fell, and destroyed itself upon the algid stone floor. She sniffed and repeated, "Where were we?"

For the next few, rather long hours, the two practiced less-than-diligently, until Draco had mastered the art of avoiding the imperius curse. Hermione had done a curse that was similar, yet milder, so as not to practice the true Imperius. Psychologically, Draco was sure he could avoid it. Hermione had not only instructed him on ignoring it physically, but emotionally as well.

As it was almost nine-thirty, both felt it moral to depart and head back up to their dormitories. They strode wordlessly next to each other for a while, speaking sparsely. The silence was somehow more comforting than any whisper, or any material condolence. It was as if being in his presence was the only thing she'd need to keep her alive.

When it came time to go their separate ways, they turned to each other. In a seemingly perpetual moment, Draco embraced her, every word he'd ever told her swimming through her brain like driftwood. She shut her eyes and let herself be enclosed in his endless warmth, and for once was content.

"You'll stay with me forever, won't you?" She said softly after a pause. He pulled from her and gave her an extremely curious glance.

"Do you see that necklace?" He questioned, taking the silver chain gently in his hand. "It represents eternity. I never want you to take that necklace off. Not ever. And always recall when you see it that no matter the circumstance, I'll always be with you. This stands for the infinity of my love, do you understand me?" He slowly put his wand to the chain and muttered something. "Now the clasp is gone. There is not a chance you can lose it now. Much like the way you won't ever lose my care. Listen to me, Hermione." She smiled meekly and brushed a lock of his hair from his eyes with her knuckle.

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were infinite.
* * *

Rain trickled down the window coldly in the Gryffindor girls' dormitories. It was solemn, yet beautiful outside. The weather was quite unexpected for the last week of school. The allegory of the rain rather frightened Hermione, yet she wasn't truly sure why. She sat, staring out the nearly opaque window for an hour, blinded and entranced by the enormous amount of rain that tumbled down upon the castle. Though the roof was nearly five floors above her, she could still hear the immense droplets hitting the stone covering. As she gazed, she noticed a muddle of white nearly crash into the window. She opened it, allowing a burst of moisture to attack her, and let in what appeared to be a drenched owl. Leaving the window ajar, she sat upon her bed and untied the note that was carefully knotted around the beautiful owl's leg.

'Hermione,' It read. 'Meet me by the forbidden forest behind the quidditch stadium at midnight. Tell no one. I'll await your arrival on my feet.
-Draco.'

She quickly folded the very soaked note in half, amazed that she was able to make out the runny ink upon the page. She quickly glanced at the clock mounted professionally upon the wall. 11:30. That gave her a half of an hour to find him.

Throwing on her thickest cloak and leaving the matted owl upon her four-poster, she ran down into the common room and out the portrait hole.

Thankfully, she noted, she ran into no one on the way out of the castle, making sure she was extremely noiseless. As she stepped into the pouring rain, she drew her hood over her head, and darkly sprinted as fast as possible about the castle.

The grounds were- to put it very bromidely- frightening in the hours of nighttime. Creatures with red eyes seemed to be watching from everywhere, intent on making Hermione very nervous. She could never see the body behind the fiery pupils, but she was almost positive that the sight would not be pleasant. She embraced herself and continued to dash through the thick darkness of the evening.

When finally she found herself by her destination, she saw no sight of Draco. It took her a moment until she pulled out her wand and lit it.

It was then she took note of Draco Malfoy. Shivering violently, chrome hair plastered to his very pale forehead, he stood, tucked in-between his two palms a midnight rose. She put a hand to her lips as he stepped forward. "Hermione-" He started, his silver eyes glittering sharply in intense beauty. "Hermione Granger, my only-" He paused and noted her face.

"Draco I-" she drew herself closer to him, determined to find words. He hushed her and handed her the black rose. Everything seemed perfect, and Draco's story of the Potters was now swirling through Hermione's mind. She opened her mouth to respond to his extraordinary kindness, yet could not find any speech from within her.

Before either knew what was coming, Draco knelt upon his knee, drenched in the sheets of rain, and glanced up at her. "I know I've never said the right thing at the right time, and have basically mauled you royally in the last few years-" Hermione asphyxiated a weak laugh. "But you're like nothing else in the world to me. You've saved me more times than I can count on two hands, and for that I owe you so much." At this she meekly shook her head. He continued, ignoring this. "I know that I'm certainly not everything someone would hope for, and that I may not be worth all this trouble with Voldemort. But what I do know is, I've met a brilliantly astounding witch, and I now know that there's something about her that seduces me so plainly that it's hard to breathe. I know that I love her unlike anything, and that this may be the first and only time I'll ever feel anything of the sort. People promised me I'd be cruel. Hell, it's embedded in my name. But as you once asked me, am I the mysterious and true constellation of stars, or the man of infernal devastation? I choose the stars." He paused and took her hand. "I've got no ring, no fancy gift to give you, but-"

"There's nothing I could care less about!" Hermione cried suddenly, finally finding something to say. A thin, soft smile formed on Draco's lips.

"Then Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"
* * *