Disclaimer: I have absolutely no rights to Harry Potter.

It is with great trepidation that I post this chapter.

Alright. This is it. This is the last chapter.

Okay.. Well... there will be an epilogue. It will take place ten years after the current time.

I'll try to post the epilogue quickly. It's because of this that I waited with a completed Chapter 14 before posting it. I cannot, in good conscience, leave you all with Chapter 14 and not update for months on end.

I do have a heart. I promise.

I know you will likely rip me to shreds for this chapter. If you think the Harry and Voldemort scene was too downplayed, if anyone seemed out of character... if some things were redundant or seemed pointless or didn't make sense... Tell me. Review and let it all out. A lot of problems you will likely find have been amended in the epilogue, but some might not be.

The epilogue will throw a lot of information at you. And at the moment, I hate the ending. So it may change.

Thanks for enduring this long ride with me. I hope that this chapter finds you well. Much love to the reviewers and my wonderful beta, Jennifer, as per usual.

***

"Sometimes your closest friend is your greatest enemy."
- Jason Fong

Draco pulled up the left sleeve of his robes, checking his arm again. He sighed. 'Of course there is nothing there. This is ridiculous. You'll feel it when you're called.'

He frowned as he reflected on what she had told him last night, when he had returned, battered and bruised, from Surrey. Apparently his father was becoming rather… fond of Hermione. Draco had wanted to take her back to Hogwarts with him immediately. Voldemort was one thing… Voldemort keeping her was bad enough. But Voldemort, as crazy as he is, has particular motives. And none of them involve harming Draco's girlfriend.

His father, on the other hand… Lucius was an entirely different story.

The twisting in his stomach reminded him that Hermione was still there. 'Oh, god.'

"Bloody Hell."

He couldn't think like this. 'Back to Potions, Malfoy. Enough of this shit. She'll be fine.'

Once again, he turned his attention to his Potions' essay, and once again he was distracted. This time, however, it was not a self-created distraction. He thought that he heard screaming just outside the entrance to the common room.

With a frown, he straightened his Prefect badge and decided to investigate.

***

It wasn't until Harry reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room that he realized he didn't know the password. After trying a few of his own creation, such as Pureblood, Smarmy Gits, and finally Slytherins are a bunch of self-righteous, greasy bastards, he began pounding his fists against the cool dungeon wall, screaming in frustration.

Quite suddenly, the wall moved out from under his fists. He just barely prevented himself from tumbling into Draco Malfoy.

"Potter. Care to explain why you are making my evening even more unpleasant with both your presence and your shrieking?"

Harry wanted nothing more than to kill him. Instead, he bent, retrieved his cloak from the dungeon floor and calmly grabbed Malfoy by the lapels, dragging him away from the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

Malfoy was too astonished to put up much of a fight, and Harry managed to successfully slam him into a small corridor of storage rooms.

"And just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Harry scowled and knelt down, bringing himself as close to Malfoy as he could manage and regaining his grip on Draco's shirt collar.

"Where is she?"

Draco's eyes flashed, betraying only a moment of emotion before his glare turned cold and he regarded Harry with boredom.

"What are you talking about?"

Harry pulled out his wand, shoving it neatly into the space between Malfoy's collarbones, never once loosening his grip.

The second time he spoke, it was through gritted teeth. "I know you don't care about her, but I know you're in love with yourself, so if you'd like to save your own life, I recommend you tell me exactly where Hermione is."

Draco's eyes flashed again and he opened his mouth, but before he allowed himself to respond, he took a deep breath and closed it again.

After a few moments of regarding Harry in silence, he spoke again. "You can't help her."

"BLOODY HELL! I CERTAINLY FUCKING CAN AND WILL. IF IT MEANS MY DEATH, SO BE IT. She's worth it. "

His screams were getting shrill, but as long as he kept the tears at bay, Harry didn't mind. He took a deep breath and continued, this time in a hiss.

"Of course you wouldn't understand. What do you know about love? About honor? About her?"

Malfoy broke his gaze, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall behind him. There were a few more moments of silence, for which Harry was unwillingly grateful, as he was able to regain control of himself.

Finally, Draco pulled himself away from the wall and held up a hand. Harry regarded him curiously.

Draco sighed. "There's too much to tell you, and you wouldn't believe me if I did tell you. Aside from that, it's not my place. She should be the one to explain everything to you. But I will tell you that I do know about both love and Hermione. To me they are the same thing."

Draco sighed again and rushed ahead, preventing the arguments he could see Harry forming in his mind.

"She's with Voldemort. She went willingly. He's holding her in order to bring you to him. He may save her at my request after he kills you, but then, with the Dark Lord, one never really knows. We may all end up dead in the end. So take your fucking honor and give it a go."

Draco reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out what appeared to be a rather flashy Peacock quill. "This is a portkey to Malfoy Manor, where she is being held. You'll arrive just in front of the gates. I believe she is in the west wing, in my room."

Harry stared at Malfoy for a few minutes, regarding the portkey with a great deal of apprehension. Draco rolled his eyes and with his free hand, he shoved Harry's wand away from his throat. In one fluent, graceful movement, he was on his feet. "I've got work to do. Goodbye Potter."

After a deep breath, Harry tucked his wand into his belt, clutched more tightly to his cloak and lifted the portkey from Malfoy's outstretched hand.

***

Ron rubbed his eyes and moved to a sitting position. It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dark, but once they did, he realized that he was not alone.

He cleared his throat, to alert his visitor to his consciousness.

"Very good, Sleeping Weasley. I'm glad you're awake."

Ron stiffened. There were a number of people he had expected to see sitting by his bedside, but Severus Snape was not one of them.

"Um… Professor… Did you need something?"

Snape sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "How very kind of you, Mr. Weasley. No. I was actually coming to check on your well-being, believe it or not." At Ron's stunned silence, he glanced at his feet and continued. "However, I suppose that I might as well ask you why."

Ron bit his lower lip. "Um… Why, sir?"

"Yes, Weasley, why. Why you decided, out of myself, Avery and Dumbledore, that I should be your rescuer."

Ron swallowed and glanced at his hands, which were fiddling with his bedsheets. "I… I don't know. You just seemed like… Like you would understand… You've been there before. And I know that Avery has too, but… Well… He's Avery."

A smirk spread across Snape's face. "Yes, he certainly is. Very well, Weasley. You thought that I would be the most sympathetic to your cause, in spite of the abominable way you've treated me? Very interesting, that in spite of hating me, you thought me a better choice than both a fellow former spy and your Headmaster."

Ron's cheeks flushed. He bit his tongue. 'No. Snape is just trying to provoke you. Don't rise to his baiting. Don't tell him that he treated you badly as well.'

Ron took a deep breath. "Professor, I wonder if perhaps we may come to some sort of peace with one another. I hardly think it's constructive for us to be bickering. And hatred among anyone on our side is nothing but trouble."

Snape's eyes flashed as his face contorted into an expression of extreme surprise. After a few minutes, he nodded. "Alright, Weasl… Ron." He grimaced at speaking Ron's first name.

Ron was fairly amused at his Potions' Master's attempt.

"Can I call you Severus? Or Snape?"

Snape's grimace turned into a scowl. "I hardly think that's appropriate. As a matter of fact, ten points from Gryffindor for your… cheek."

"Now, now, Severus. Perhaps you should act your age."

Snape turned around to scowl at Minerva McGonnagal, who had just entered the hospital wing, before he stood from his seat and bowed, taking his leave.

Ron smiled. "Hello, Professor McGonnagal."

She smiled and patted his hand, taking a seat next to him. "I'm afraid I have some bad news, Mister Weasley."

***

Harry was prepared for the tug at his navel, and managed to remain standing throughout the trip. It was when he reached his destination that his knees went weak. Intimidating was not the word.

Malfoy Manor was the most frightening building he had ever seen. Very dark stone walls towered well above Harry's range of vision, and the air around the building seemed thicker… darker even, than the atmosphere outside the gates. He half expected Voldemort to materialize from the gloom and wondered how the hell the Malfoys had managed to maintain anonymity among Muggles. With a shiver and a deep breath, he pulled his invisibility cloak over his head and moved through the eerily-open gates, making his way up the road to the mansion.

When he was still 100 meters away, he pulled his wand out of his belt, laid it carefully on the palm of his hand and muttered "Point Me". Upon finding that he was indeed going north, he turned left, hoping desperately that Malfoy had been telling the truth.

Strangely enough, Harry believed him. He began to think about what he'd said about Hermione, and forced himself to stop. 'No. Malfoy doesn't care about her. He's the one that got her into this. I'll deal with him later.'

A very determined Harry finally reached the west side of the mansion, and after some deductive reasoning, hazarded a guess as to which room was Draco's. Now he encountered the problem of how he would reach the third story window. He thought back to where his Firebolt lay currently. An image of a forgotten broomstick resting on his bed came to mind.

He hadn't prepared for this very well. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes, focused intently on the broomstick, waved his wand and muttered "Accio Firebolt".

A few minutes later, he was startled from his concentration by a hard hit from behind. He turned to find his Firebolt resting on the ground. With a smile, he bent and retrieved the broomstick, being careful to keep his invisibility cloak wrapped tightly around him.

He didn't realize that it was now useless… that anyone watching could clearly tell that he was there.

He didn't know that he was being watched.

***

Voldemort clapped his hands together in an excited fashion that reminded Hermione strongly of a small child.

"He's here."

His voice was nothing more than a hiss, but it still possessed enough coldness to send a chill down her spine. It was nothing compared to the cold wave that hit her when his eyes fastened on her.

"You'll stay here."

Hermione swallowed and nodded as Voldemort swept from the room, Lucius swishing smoothly behind.

She watched the window with baited breath and a slowly-spreading sensation of horror. She didn't have to wait long before it slid open, seemingly of its own accord. A moment later, Harry stood in front of the window, Firebolt and invisibility cloak in hand.

She had never before been unhappy to see him.

"Oh, Harry."

She couldn't manage anything stronger than a whisper. Harry crossed the space between them swiftly, pulled her into his arms for a brief hug, and wordlessly covered them with the cloak. Gently, he took her hand in his and led her to the window. She obediently climbed onto the Firebolt behind him and they flew out of the window, not touching down until they had safely cleared the gates of Malfoy Manor.

Hermione didn't allow her relief to even sink in. This had been too easy. She continued to clutch onto Harry even after they had reached the ground. Slowly he turned to face her, pulling the cloak off and holding out a Peacock quill. Before she could question its purpose, she heard a somewhat familiar voice calling her name.

She turned to see Ron running towards them, waving his arms frantically.

"Wait! Wait, stop!"

Harry and Hermione paused, waiting until a very breathless Ron reached them.

"Damn it, Harry. You trusted Draco? Don't even think about using that portkey."

He spat the word as though it were dirty. After another deep breath, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver Sneakoscope.

"I got here as fast as I could. I'm glad you got her, mate. Here, both of you grab this and it will all be over."

Harry took a deep breath, looked to Hermione and nodded. She bit her lip and reached out her hand. After Harry performed an engorgement charm on the Sneakoscope, they all managed to get a fairly tight grip before the world began to spin. When the spinning stopped, the trio found that they had all managed to remain standing. Oddly enough, when the world stopped spinning, the Sneakoscope did not.

Hermione knew right away that they weren't in Hogsmeade.

***

Ron lay back with his eyes closed until he was sure that his Head of House had left. He wanted nothing more than to be alone right now.

So, Harry was gone. He'd gone off to play the part of the hero and rescue his very own damsel-in-distress. This was all wrong. It should have never played out this way.

Hermione wasn't ever supposed to get involved, and now that she was, she certainly wasn't supposed to be some helpless victim of the Dark Lord's.


And Harry was not supposed to go out and rescue her. He was playing into Voldemort's trap perfectly.

Ron sighed and rolled over, wishing that he could stop things from happening. He wished he could have stopped Harry from going, and that he had been able to save Hermione on his own… He winced, and, upon examining his left forearm, he wished that he hadn't attempted this whole spy business in the first place. Dumbledore had been right, the first time. It was all pointless.

Ron closed his eyes tightly, attempting to will away the pain and regret, but allowing the tears to come on their own.

***

Hermione whirled around, taking in the very empty, very flat field surrounding the trio. No, this most certainly wasn't Hogsmeade.

When she turned back, intending on questioning Ron, she found him with a very sinister grin on his face. A very sinister, very un-Ron grin.

Oh, no.

When the realization hit her that this was not, in fact, Ron, she stepped in between him and Harry, who seemed, for the first time this year, to understand what was going on. She glared at the Ron imposter.

"You'll not hurt him."

Harry clutched her upper arms, instilling in her a sense of urgency. Ron's grin disappeared.

"Step aside, girl."

When she failed to do so, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Hermione, please. Move."

She ignored Harry's whisper and remained standing. She had betrayed him for too long now. It was time for some loyalty. It was time for her to protect him. It was her fault that he was here now.

Another grin began to take shape in Ron's features.

"Very well. I'll make this more entertaining."

He closed his eyes, touched his arm and muttered. A few seconds later, a small *pop* announced Draco's arrival.

Hermione's heart fell.

"I will tell you only once more. Step aside, girl."

Ron's imposter, who she could only assume was Voldemort, made a mildly threatening gesture towards Draco with his wand. Draco fell to his knees and closed his eyes.

With a small, sharp breath and a whimper of weakness, Hermione stumbled away from Harry, and fell to her knees as well.

Harry followed her with his gaze, and when she looked up to meet his eyes, the multitude of emotions contained in them was overwhelmed by the sentiment that he now understood. Harry knew exactly how she felt and where he stood with her. He broke their gaze quickly and turned his attention back to his opponent, who was quickly morphing into Voldemort.

"Wasn't that a nice touch? Amazingly enough, the red-headed dolt was useful after all."

Voldemort smiled. A flash of blond in the corner of Harry's vision told him that Draco was looking to Hermione.

"Yea. It was beautiful. How did it feel, being a man?"

Voldemort's smile disappeared. "Potter, I've put up with your existence for long enough-"

"Yet strangely enough, you can never seem to kill me. I don't suppose it's so much your choice, my existence, now is it?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed, but before he could raise his wand, Harry spoke, swishing his own. A shot of red light darted neatly by Voldemort's shoulder. The Dark Lord smiled.

"Nice try, Potter. Perhaps the shaking in your hand is just an overabundance of confidence."

Harry scowled and managed to narrowly avoid a flash of violet light by throwing himself to the ground. He rolled before he had a moment to second-guess himself and correctly chose his direction, missing another one of Voldemort's spells. He managed to roll to his feet, and, twirling around to face his opponent, shot a stunning spell at the Dark Lord, this time missing only because of a quick Vanishing spell on Voldemort's part.

Distinctly irritated, Harry spoke again. "Now who is a coward? The Dark Lord hiding from a sixth year? Incredible."

He wasn't expecting Voldemort to appear just behind him, nor was he prepared for the Petrificus Totalus that hit him squarely in the back. But he certainly knew the words of the spell that would follow.

Voldemort smiled at the petrified Potter, and walked around to face Harry. "Now it is time for you to follow in your parents' footsteps, little Potter. Avad-"

Hermione had had enough. Through her tears, she watched Harry lose his fight. There was nothing he could do now. He would die.

But not if she had anything to say about it. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, summoned her power, and waved her hand at Voldemort, shooting him the most powerful Stunning spell she could manage.

When she opened her eyes, the Dark Lord was sprawled most ungracefully on his back. Draco's grip on her loosened and she turned her attention to his shocked gaze.

"Please, Draco. Release Harry. I'm… I'm afraid…"

She didn't have to finish. The Death Eaters hadn't given her back her wand and she was too scared that she would hurt him if she tried wandless magic on him. Draco easily released Harry from the spell, trying to ignore the voices in his mind that told him she hadn't been afraid to try wandless magic on him.

Harry shook himself, looked to Hermione and back at Voldemort, in a somewhat incredulous manner before approaching Voldemort.

Draco watched Harry approach Voldemort and felt a soft touch on his arm. He turned to find a very tearful Hermione watching him, her eyes clearly asking him if he was angry with her. He sighed, shook his head, and strolled away from the field, to its edge. Hermione followed closely behind. She got the feeling that he had been here before.

When he reached the field's edge, Draco stopped and turned to face her. Her face was almost childlike in its fear and innocence. He smiled and swept her into his arms. "Merlin, Hermione. I don't know how you ever doubt my feelings for you. Honestly. Look what a sap you've turned me into."

She nodded and as he pulled away from her, setting her back on her feet, she looked up at him again. Slowly, he leaned towards her, delivering a soft kiss to her forehead. Hermione closed her eyes.

With a determined glint in his eye, Harry walked over to the Dark Lord's immobile body and with the words that had killed his parents, received the most powerful sense of vengeance he had ever hoped for.

When he was satisfied that there would be no resurrection this time, he turned and followed Draco and Hermione's path to the field's edge.

"I love you, Draco."

Harry paused in his step back towards the couple, turning away. He swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to swallow the pain that such a simple phrase had just created. It had been only a whisper, but its echoes in his head were louder than any screaming could have been. With his bloodstream being overrun by adrenaline, he turned towards them again, reached them in only a few steps, and grabbed Hermione by her arm, spinning her around to face him.

Draco watched him, seemingly unsurprised, and took a few steps back. Harry didn't have a moment to be thankful for his blonde nemesis' intuition.

Harry threw down his wand and glared at Hermione with such intensity that she was sure he would bring about the end of the world in his fury. Instead, he grabbed her roughly around the waist, throwing her entire body up against his. He had braced himself for the blow and didn't waver, but pulled her face harshly up to his, capturing her lips in his.

For the first time in her life, Hermione knew what sorrow tasted like. Harry's kiss tasted unmistakably of sorrow, and it wasn't the least bit sweet. It was bitter - almost painfully so - with a desperate sort of thirst. There was such thirst there - for things that had almost been and that would now never be. It was a thirst that had, until now, been filled with anticipation. It was at this point that Hermione realized that Harry had never understood, that day in fifth year, that any chance for romance between the two had been permanently destroyed. He had never acknowledged their breakup, had never accepted losing her, and had never given her up.

A salty taste now permeated the overwhelming sorrow and Hermione found that she was crying. She opened her eyes and, from Harry's shining cheeks, she knew she wasn't alone. She pulled away.

"I'm sorry Harry. I'm so sorry."

He didn't respond. Gruffly wiping his face with the sleeve of his robes, he turned, bent to retrieve his wand, and, with a *pop*, he was gone. Gone from the barren, war-stained field and gone from her life.

***

Draco's arms encircled her, attempting some vestige of comfort. Comfort for both of them. She wheeled around.

"You knew, didn't you?"

Draco refused to meet her gaze. "Knew what?"

"Don't play stupid. You knew that Harry… that he… You knew that he was still in love with me."

Draco sighed and pulled away from her. "Yes. So did Ron. So did anyone who saw you two together. And so should you have, too. I mean, he even told you. I was there. In the dungeons. And then there was the curse… Not pay attention to what I said about his overgrown heart? Not care to remember?"

Hermione cursed. "All this time…" She sighed. "If only…If Ron… Things could have been so different."

Draco scowled. "Sorry if I'm a poor substitute for Harry Perfect Potter."

She glared at him. "It's not about that at all. God." She threw up her hands in frustration, bringing them to her face. Finally she sighed and pulled them down. Tears marked her cheeks.

He sighed and attempted to pull her towards him. She pushed him away and turned her back towards him. He cursed.

"What? What do you want, Hermione? I try to be harsh with you and you cry. I try to comfort you and you push me away. I don't know what I'm supposed to do here."

She didn't respond for a long time. Draco had just begun to think that she wasn't going to when he heard her speak in a very soft, low voice.

"Draco, I think things were easier before. They just aren't supposed to be this way. I'm supposed to be the perfect Prefect heroine. I'm not supposed to be the bad guy. And with you I am. With you… With you I want to know things and experience things that I should never learn."

Draco seethed. "No. Not this shit again. We've been through this before. Either you love me or you don't. All of that "supposed to" bullshit doesn't mean a damned thing! If you love Harry, you love Harry."

He paused before he spoke again, almost in a whisper. "And you obviously don't love me. So just run on back to him. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to have you."

"Why do you have to be such a bastard?"

He wasn't expecting the harsh words or the angry tone in which they were spoken.

"What?"

She turned around, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I give up. On you. On Harry. On love. I give up. I want no part of it."

She was running down the length of the field before he could even process her words. When he understood what was happening, she was already picking up the Peacock quill portkey Harry had left behind. When he was shouting for her, screaming her name in despair and longing and pain, she was already back in Hogsmeade, running for the gates of Hogwarts. When he wept for her, she was long gone.

***

A/N:

A little note about the portkeys; I realize that they are generally made to appear as some insignificant muggle object, in order to not attract the attention of muggles. In this case, however, the Peacock quill is only suitably flashy enough for a Malfoy, who I'm sure would not intend on having any interaction with muggles at all, and would therefore not need to worry about Muggle perception of his quill. As to the sneakoscope (a functioning sneakoscope, no less), I envision Voldemort as having a specific purpose for that portkey, none of which would include a Muggle spotting it. And I think he's too arrogant to allow his cleverness to go unobserved, so he would want the three of them to know almost instantly that he had tricked them. I don't see him as very patient.