Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. Their J.K. Rowling's.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Lost in the cruel irony, it took Draco another few minutes before he could bring himself back to examining the bodies. Pausing momentarily, he realized he saw movement.
===Note====
A couple more chapters before this story ends. I'm new at this fanfic writing thing so tell me, how long must it be to be considered a novel and how long to be a short story?
A little sweetness in this chapter. Read, review. =)
Within the Smoke
Chapter 8: I Found You Lost
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Draco sighed in exhaustion. Pausing briefly, he surveyed the area and was satisfied to see the casualties had been minimal. He had been ordered to oversee the cleanup. Finding the job to be pointless however, Draco set off back to camp.
The battle was over. Looking back, he could hardly recall what he had done in it. Perhaps that could be considered a benefit. Being haunted by experiences in war did not create a pleasant existence. Picking his way around the clusters of people, Draco began to wonder what prisoners they had gained. Though he knew many had been taken, he wished to know who specifically. In other words, he wondered if his father was among them.
Since his abrupt departure from home, he had never once doubted whether he had made the correct decision. On some level, Draco had always known with which side Lucius Malfoy aligned himself. When he was attending Hogwarts, he had wisely chosen to ignore the information. This precious state of denial was robbed from him however as soon as he joined the Ministry. He had accepted the job on the practical grounds that it brought good money and respect. He had accepted the job on the personal grounds that it provided freedom from his Father's reputation.
Unfortunately, the position did not allow him to break the controlling ties of his family. Within days of accepting the job, Draco began receiving frequent visits from his father. Lucius always began with small talk, his voice smooth, before gradually slipping into asking for favors. Usually, he disguised his true intentions. His favors seemed small. Occasionally, he might request that Draco put in a word to the Minister about a law he wanted passed. Harmless, Draco thought. Soon however, Lucius began asking for much more. He wanted his son to act as a spy. He wanted him to release information that would be valuable to possible enemies. Hurt that his own father should only see him as a tool, Draco refused. It didn't surprise him afterwards that Lucius ceased contacting him. It didn't bother him when he heard a few months later that his father had openly joined the Dark Lord.
Draco wondered now if his father was even still alive. Supporting Voldemort was almost as risky as opposing him. Any failure might mean instant execution under his wand. And, since all his supporters were concealed by their cloaks, it was difficult to discern who was still an active deatheater.
Unable to conceal his curiosity any longer, Draco grabbed a passing officer. "Tell me, what prisoners have we obtained?"
"We're not sure presently, sir. We're still sorting them out and verifying their identities." The young officer replied.
"Do we at least know if Voldemort is among them?" Draco demanded.
"No, sir. I'm sorry to say we didn't find He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
Frustrated and fuming once more, Draco brushed past without another word and set off toward camp to find the Minister. What was the point in victory if the greatest prize was still unobtainable? He couldn't understand how the Dark Lord had escaped them again. It was unacceptable that he should live and be given the chance to regain power once his followers were all in Azkaban.
Arriving in camp a few minutes later, Draco immediately entered the Minister's tent. "How the hell could this happen!?" He demanded. "Where is he? How could he have gotten away?" He knew it probably wasn't wise to speak with an authority figure with such disrespect but his reason had left him.
The Minister of Magic looked momentarily shocked to be addressed in such a way but waved it aside to focus on the crisis at hand. "Calm yourself my boy. Nothing is for certain yet. Look, the smoke is just beginning to clear up. We'll send out searches to find any escaped deatheaters. But, it's top priority to find all our wounded first."
Unable to argue, Draco left the tent a little disgruntled but never the less determined to capture the Dark Lord. To do so however, he had to first accomplish the task of finding all survivors. Recruiting all unoccupied wizards, Draco set out with a search party. The smoke was indeed clearing up. He could see fairly far ahead now and was pleased that finally things were brightening.
Upon realizing that the search was too time-consuming, the party decided to separate and cover more ground. Draco chose a random direction and set off. He didn't expect to find many survivors. It was unlikely that the Deatheaters would allow any to live. If they did, it was extremely probable that the victim would be too mentally damaged to resume their normal lives.
Never the less, this gruesome task had to be completed, and preferably as quickly as possible. Scanning the area, he saw no one. Sighing, he continued on without much hope.
After half an hour of searching without result, Draco paused when he saw something curious in the distance. It appeared to be a lump on the ground. Expecting to find only a body, he approached grimly. Nearing, he saw that there were two figures lying perfectly still. It was always a harsh blow to witness death on the battlefield, but Draco knew he had to identify the bodies for the sake of reporting it to the families. Slowly he walked until he came to a stop over the unmoving forms.
He took a few staggered steps backward. He was staring at the lifeless body of Harry Potter. He was momentarily stunned. It seemed impossible that the boy who had overcome all should die at such a young age. He had expected his rival to lead the war. He had expected him to conquer and receive everlasting glory. Draco couldn't bring himself to accept this.
Sighing, he knew he would have to be the one to report the death and meet the grim reactions of the wizarding community. Once his thoughts returned to their usual practicality, Draco sorted away the death as just another misfortune of war. It was only then that he allowed himself to examine the other body. He could tell it was female, but large amounts of tangled hair hid her face. Kneeling down, he slowly reached out his hand and brushed the locks covering her.
For a second time, he was physically shocked. Removing his hand immediately, Draco drew back and wondered how she could have gotten here when he had been so sure she was resting in camp. No, no, no, he thought, this wasn't supposed to happen. What has she done? She was so innocent. Bitterly, Draco realized that he had accomplished his goal of bringing Hermione to safety only to have her wander away and get herself killed.
Lost in the cruel irony, it took Draco another few minutes before he could bring himself back to examining the bodies. Pausing momentarily, he realized he saw movement. Granger was still breathing. Chiding himself for having missed it before, Draco saw her chest slowly but steadily rise and fall.
Kneeling beside her, he tilted Hermione's chin towards him. Yes, she was definitely alive and starting to come to. Her eyes opened slowly and gazed at him with the most curious expression.
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Her voice was weak but her spirit the same. It brought a smile to his lips to hear her speak to him with the same contempt. She smiled too after seeing him do so. "This is the third time you've found me, Malfoy."
Draco laughed softly. "Fourth, it's the fourth time." He corrected her.
She smiled at this and tried to laugh. "No, I found you once, remember?"
Realizing she spoke the truth, Draco chuckled before returning to the matter at hand. "What happened, Hermione?"
The smile disappeared from her face and she raised a hand and pointed to a spot beyond Draco. He turned and realized there was another form on the ground a short distance from them. In his haste, he had completely overlooked it. Leaving Hermione's side, he cautiously drifted toward the lone tangle of robes expecting to find another old schoolmate dead and cold.
Upon meeting the frozen gaze of Voldemort, Draco nearly gasped but suppressed the urge because it could be considered a weakness. He didn't show weakness, he didn't show surprise neither if he could help it. Brushing away the initial shock, he suddenly felt relieved. The Dark Lord was dead. He had not escaped as Draco at assumed. This war truly was won.
He let out a laugh and retreated back to Hermione's side. "He's dead? Ha, looks like Potter did it."
She quieted. "Yes, Harry did it." Lowering her eyes, she spoke softly and Draco realized she truly was mourning for him.
"I see," he began. Shaking his head to rid himself of curious emotions, he stood and offered a hand to Hermione to help her up. Placing her hand in his she attempted to stand. Draco noticed her wince before falling back to the ground.
"What is it?" He asked.
"Nothing, a small injury. It's insignificant."
Glancing at the wound she tried to hide, Draco asked tensely, "Did Voldemort curse you?"
"No," she replied without further explanation. Shaking off the question, Hermione attempted to stand once more and to her dismay failed again. Sitting back, a sob escaped her. "I can't do it." More tears erupted and streamed down her face. Draco couldn't understand why it upset her so much that she was unable stand. "I can't do anything." She was near hysterics now. "I've failed everyone; Ron, the Ministry, you, and now Harry..." She seemed to be choking on her tears.
Draco sighed in resignation and stooping down, lifted her with ease. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder and resumed her sobbing. "I'm a failure," she continued, "their all dead and I couldn't stop it. It's my fault Harry's dead. If I hadn't come here Harry might have lived and, and..." Draco could barely make out a word of what she was saying. In an attempt to be reassuring however, he inserted the occasional "It's okay, calm yourself."
He saw that his feeble attempts did no good when Hermione only began to sob harder. Reassessing his methods, he tried a different approach. "You're hardly a failure, Granger. There's nothing you could have done. This is war." This statement brought no improvement, but Draco was relieved to see it did not cause her more distress.
Convinced that he could do no real good, he discontinued his efforts. With nothing left to say, he carried her the remainder of the way back to camp in silence.
===Note===
At least thier reunited yes? And no one's left to stand in the way since I killed off all the major characters. Tragic, but it had to be done. Anyways, let me know what you think.
-Captive