Title: An Inevitable Fate

Chapter Thirty Six: Death Becomes You

Author: KissThis

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Draco x Hermione ack-she-own.

Setting: 6th year in Hogwarts.

Disclaimer: I did not create Harry Potter or any of the characters from the Harry Potter series. I also have a mortal fear of lawyers. Harry Potter and all its rights ©JK Rowling.

A/N: Sorry it's been ages, but I've been working out in the cornfields for the past couple of weeks from 6 AM – 5 PM and it really tired me out. Hopefully, I'll be posting more often until school gets into full swing again.

Hermione couldn't lift her head from floorboards. There was no longer a single scrap of energy left in her body. She could feel the strength of her lungs fading, shuddering to stop. She could feel the veins in her body cease their pulsing as the beating of her heart slowly died away. She listened as each thump was followed by a longer and longer silence, her amber eyes sending bright headlights of light into the fading room...

...and she waited for death.

Hermione woke up screaming. She screamed and she screamed 'til her throat ached and her eyes watered and her head pounded with pain. Her heart was thumping so wildly beneath her breast she thought at any moment it would break free from her chest and tumble onto her golden sheets in a bloody mess. It was the sound that finally calmed her; the beating of her heart.

She was alive.

It had all been just a dream.

No, a nightmare. It had most definitely been a nightmare.

A nightmare she remembered with vivid clarity.

She could feel herself drowning, sinking into the murky depths to die. Nothing but dark waters caressing her skin and the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. The water filled her nostrils and slipped into her mouth, trickling down her throat and filling her lungs. Surrounded inside and out by icy waters, her skin seemed to melt away leaving her as nothing more than a weak consciousness within a sea of serenity. Calm and peaceful she let herself slip away.

...let herself die.

Her heart was slowing down, the beats sounded slower and slower like a record player that was winding down. Ice filled her body as she felt the blood still in her veins. One ragged breath after another, she fought before giving in to the inevitable. Her unblinking eyes fixed on nothing at all as white bled across her vision. The floor beneath her head was nearly non-existent as she floated away on a wave of numb resignation.

...floated away from life.

Hermione's eyes clamped shut and she squeeze her fists so tightly her fingernails sliced into the smooth skin of her palms. Frightened tears slipped down her cheeks, and silently she cried.

She cried for herself.

She cried for Hope.

She cried for the world.

She cried...for the first time truly realizing just how bad things were. Maybe Seamus had been right; how could there be any hope left? The world was crumbling, the planet dying. She could taste death on the back of her tongue, and she found reason after reason to let the tears keep falling.

Despairing and in pain she pulled her knees to her chest and bathed herself in bitter tears.

"Such a pretty one. Why does it cry?"

Hermione lifted her head from her arms and turned a sorrow-stricken face to the young girl sitting on her bed. Long blonde hair and bright, pupilless golden eyes.

"Hope." She croaked, her throat raw from screaming.

The tiny girl beamed. "I like the way you say my name. Hope," she tried to mimic Hermione's raspy voice and ended up sounded like a sort of bullfrog. She tried several more times, each sounding sillier than the last. Hermione stared at her through red-rimmed eyes as if she'd gone mad.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Come to send me more nightmares?" as she said the last, her arms tightened convulsively around her knees.

The little Hope shook her head, blonde hair fanning around her cherubic face.

"What then?"

"I'm here to help you, pretty girl." Hope smiled, sounding so sincere.

Hermione's thin thread of iron resolve snapped and she pitched forward into the tiny girl's lap, finally allowing great racking sobs to shake her body. She grabbed great fistfuls of golden silk and buried her wet face in Hope's rough tunic. Small hands patted her head in a child's form of comfort, chubby fingers sticking in her tangled hair.

"It hurts…s-so much," Hermione choked.

"I know that," she said simply. "That's why I'm here – to make everything better."

"How?" Hermione asked. "How can you make this pain go away?"

It seemed impossible. This pain seemed as if it would last an eternity. Never-ending it would continue on and on and until she was nothing but the pain itself. It felt as if it would tear her apart.

"Let me hug you."

Hermione lifted her face from Hope's lap, the tears making locks of hair stick to her cheeks. "W-What?"

"You'll feel better," she insisted. "I promsise!"

The smile the small girl gave her only made her feel empty inside. "I don't want to die," Hermione whispered. She didn't know what had made her say it.

"I won't let you," she told her proudly, jabbing a grubby thumb at her own chest. "I'm going to help you lots and lots. It won't even hurt!"

Hermione wanted to give in, wanted the pain to go away. It was so simple – all she had to do was allow Hope to comfort her and everything would be alright. She wanted to be comforted. She wanted everything to be alright. Yet still she doubted. "But my body..." her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I won't let anything happen to you, silly," Hope spread her hands wide, inviting Hermione into her arms. "Just let me hug you."

"Just give me your hand, Granger."

Silent music began to play...

The candles' flames sizzled and went out...

And bodies close together...they danced...

Hermione cried out and fell against her. She clutched to the back of Hope's tunic and pressed her face against her shoulder. Hope's arms closed around her, and Hermione's face contorted into the cloth as she braced herself for pain. But none came.

She pulled back enough so that she could look up at the child that held her. A ghostly face smiled down at her with dimpling cheeks. She could see straight through her, yet the spectral arms that held her felt as real as any human's. They were warm.

"Hope," she whispered. "Hope, what's happening?"

Hope giggled and it was near empty sounding, echoing. "I'm just going away for a bit, but don't worry. I'll be back when you need me, silly girl."

Hermione gasped as Hope's arms slid through her back and the tiny child pulled herself inside of her. Like a bucket of icy water had been dumped over her, great chills spread throughout her body in waves. Her eyelids fluttered and as her support disappeared she fell face forward onto her bed.

"Hermione?" Draco knocked loudly on her door. "Hermione, are you in there?"

There was no sound of movement from the other side of the door, and he frowned at it, annoyed. He knocked on it again, and this time it was more of a banging than anything else. "Come on, Hermione. You've slept the day away, but since you're the one who called this prefect meeting you can't sleep through it."

Just as he was about to knock again the door swung open. Hermione beamed brightly up at him. "Hello, Draco. Sorry to keep you waiting."

Hermione scooped a handful of red-tinted bubbles in her hands and blew them off into the air. Padme was going on and on about something or other relating to the Halloween Ball, but no one seemed to be paying any attention. Hermione glanced over at Hannah, who was submersed in pink, triangle-shaped bubbles up to her nose, and Draco, floating on his back down in the deeper half of the pool.

"I think that's enough for tonight," she spoke up, cutting Padme off in the middle of a story about a hamster and some peanut butter. How it had any relevance to the ball they were attempting to plan, Hermione didn't want to know. She smiled at the Ravenclaw as way of apology and fidgeted with the strap of her swimsuit.

"It's getting late and I want to get to bed," she said, emphasizing her statement with a long yawn. The two girls nodded their assent and clambered out of the pool

"Bed?" Draco started wading towards her. "You've been asleep all afternoon. Your little Gryffindor pals were worried when you didn't show up for dinner. Thought Moaning Myrtle had drowned you in the loo or something."

Hermione chuckled, "But you knew better. Didn't you?"

He gave a cheeky grin. "Oh, yes. I knew you were still on your lazy arse, snoozing away."

"MALFOY!" She exclaimed giving him a hearty splashing. He responded in turn by jumping her and pushing her head beneath the water. She surfaced sputtering.

"Oh boy are you in for it now," she threatened, brandishing a handful of bubbles like a weapon.

Draco sneered. "I'm shaking in my swim trunks," he said sarcastically.

Hermione leapt on his back then and tried to return the favor by dunking him, but he was taller than her and he just stood in the shallows as she tried, rather ridiculously, to shove him under. Finally, she settled for shoveling a bunch of soapy bubbles up into his face as she jumped off. He had to go under to wash them off and when he wiped the water from his eyes, Hermione had just reached the opposite side of the pool.

He kicked off the tiled bottom and swam towards her, hidden beneath the bubbles. She let out a rather undignified shriek as he grabbed her round the ankle and yanked her under the water. She grabbed fistfuls of his swim trunks, and ended up pulling him farther under as she scrambled upwards.

Hermione was laughing hysterically when Draco resurfaced pushing the sopping golden bangs from his eyes. She hiccupped loudly and helped him shove back his hair. He looked so ridiculous she had to laugh.

"You seem different."

Hermione smiled at him, and cocked her head to the side curiously. "How so?"

"Just different," he said offhand. Trying to withhold a smirk, he started making his way back to the shallows.

"Oh, no you don't!" She swam after him, eventually wading as her feet found the sloping floor. "How am I different?"

Draco waited until she caught up then shrugged, "You've gone through a lot of shit lately," he looked terribly uncomfortable as he spoke. "And a small part of that's been from me..."

Hermione bit her lip as he went on, rather hurriedly. "I'm just saying this because you look so..." he struggled to find the word.

"Different?" She suggested.

"Peaceful," He replied. "I was going to say 'peaceful'."

Hermione made an 'oh' face, then smiled. "You're right. I've finally found peace," She ended in a whisper.

Draco stared at her in shock. How? How could she have found peace? It seemed nearly impossible – murder, possession, and threat of death weren't easy things to just "get over". He wondered why this had happened now...and what price she'd had to pay for this supposed peace.

"How?"

She took a step closer. "Does it matter?" They were almost touching. "I'm here with you now, and I don't know how much time—"

"Hermione, what the bloody hell is happening!"

She placed a finger on his lips and hushed him softly. Her face was so serene and beautiful. Wet curls clung to her forehead and cheeks and dragged their tips in the bubbly water. Her face was slightly pink from the hot bath, but not even that distracted from the utter tranquility radiating off of her in waves. Breathtaking, to say the least, Draco wasn't sure if he'd have been able to speak whether or not she had silenced him.

She smiled and moved her hand to cup his cheek, "I know I haven't been the best friend at times—"

"Who said we were friends?" Draco choked out. He seemed to be unable to take in air.

Hermione smiled wider, her cheeks dimpling at his jest. "But everything seems so much clearer now, and I hope you'll forgive me for being completely daft." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"You've never in your life been so stupid, Granger."

His lips brushed hers and their soap-slicked bodies pressed against one another. Hands tangled in soaking blonde hair, Hermione pressed his face closer to hers and as their lips locked her tongue darted out to taste him. Draco's hands were on her face, pulling her against him. He wanted to devour her; starting with her lips and ending with her toes.

He'd never forgotten how good she'd tasted.

"Draco..." He hadn't realized she'd pulled away. The crushing pressure of her lips on his was still there but only a faint ghost of the real feeling. She pressed her wet forehead against his and droplets of water rolled down her curls and dripped onto his nose. The short, quick breaths she took fluttered across his damp face. The cool sensation made him shiver.

"Gods," she cursed breathlessly. "I wish we had more time." She shed no tears, but her amber eyes were dull and sad.

"We've got all the time in the world," Draco insisted, wrapping his arms around her. He didn't want to let her go, and it was an odd sensation, but not one that he was about to ignore. "Blimey, Hermione, you're acting as if I'm going to bloody disappear."

She kissed him again, and he knew it was to avoid conversation, but that didn't really rank high on his list of things to think about at that moment. Actually, he wasn't really able to think of anything at all. Who knew that plain-jane Granger could snog like succubus?

"Promise me," she murmured against his lips. Draco frowned. She was starting to worry him – every tiny change was being pieced together in his mind creating a final image that was both disturbing and confusing.

"Promise, whatever happens...don't lose hope," She saw the confusion in his eyes. "Please?"

"Alright..."

Her peaceful face was marred slightly by the forced smile, but she twined her fingers in his and pulled him along behind her as she got out of the bath. Draco's brow was furrowed as he climbed the steps out and as they dried off and headed back to the prefect dorms one thing stood out in his mind:

Things were happening far too fast.

They were both sitting in the common room, reading, when it happened. The lights flickered and went out, plunging the large room into darkness. There was a loud thump! Draco had dropped his book. Hermione hushed him and he stopped moving. He barely even breathed. The only sound was from Hermione's muggle stereo.

"It's happening," she whispered into the near-silence.

The lights flickered on and then off again several times before they stayed on. Hermione sat patiently still, and just as Draco was about to break the silence the announcement came.

"Attention everyone!"

Draco glanced at Hermione, but her gaze was on the flames, completely unfazed.

"Voldemort's forces have entered the castle. Please, stay calm, and return to your dormitories immediately!"

Screams rose from the hallway as the students began to panic. The thundering of racing footsteps as they ran all out for the relative safety of their dorms was rising to an unimaginable roar. And still Hermione did not stir.

"You knew this was coming..." he whispered to himself.

"Yes," she said evenly.

"How?"

Hermione sighed, "Voldemort felt my power spike and now he's afraid of what it may mean for the coming war."

"You don't truly think he's sent someone here to kill you? This is Hogwarts."

She shrugged, "Joining with Hope is a threat he never wanted to face."

Draco gaped. When someone had suggested that she join with the deity that was possessing her, Hermione had freaked out. And now she was talking about it as if she was relating what breakfast cereal she'd picked that morning. She was talking as if she'd already done it.

"You joined?"

Hermione nodded. Turning slightly to face him, she propped her elbow on her knee and laid her chin in her palm. "She gave me peace," she said softly.

"No..." He gasped. Something inside him snapped. As he'd feared, the price of her release had been too high. He'd never been so sorry about being right before.

"She's gone, Draco. The screaming voices of the people I've killed are gone, the nightmares are gone; she's gone. It's all gone. Everything."

She smiled and stood up, "I see now with eyes unclouded."

"Where are you going?" He shouted, angry and confused. He jumped up and grabbed her arm as she started for the portrait door. "Dumbledore told us to go to our dormitories. Since we're already here, we...stay...put."

"I'm a prefect," she said calmly. "I need to make sure everyone is safe. Half those students can't even defend themselves."

Pulling herself free she flung open the portrait and stepped out quietly into the hallway. Draco had no choice but to follow. He hurried out of the common room, but made sure to stay well in the shadows in case any of the Death Eaters had made it this far into the castle. He hoped Hermione had been smart enough to do so as well, but when he looked down the hallway he did not see her.

The wind was suddenly knocked out of him as something large and solid collided with him and sent him crashing down onto the floor. His head smacked the unyielding stones with a sick crack and his vision swam with lights. Tasting bile in the back of his throat he screamed at himself not to give into the darkness.

The body that held him pinned to the floor was knocked backwards and he sucked in air, still unable to lift his head without almost passing out. There were sounds of a scuffle and two sets of feet moved back and forth across his vision. One was Hermione's bare feet, toes painted bubble-gum pink. The other wore dark shoes covered by dark pants.

The sound of metal on metal echoed through the cobblestones and made his head rattle. A battle was going on; he had to get up. Closing his eyes to keep his dizziness at a minimum, he shifted completely onto his stomach and drew himself into a kneeling position. Too fast. He lurched forward and collapsed against the wall, choking back the vomit rising in his throat.

There was a loud bang.

Hands still shaking from the shock of the blow, he pulled his wand from the waistband of his pajama bottoms and forced out the incantation for a minor healing charm. Instantly, his headache died, the dizziness disappeared, and his stomach quieted. Using the wall for support he shoved off the floor, got to his feet, and opened his eyes.

Hermione was a few feet away from him, squaring off with her attacker.

The man was most definitely a muggle. Dressed all in black, the only color on his person was the steel sword in his hand. It was also the only remaining weapon he had. A small knife was tangled in the shredded canvas of portrait, and a metallic, l-shaped device lay behind Hermione, one end giving off a faint wisp of smoke.

Hermione looked as she had sitting on the couch, reading Hogwarts: A History for the thousandth time. Her hair, now dry from the bath, was left hanging loose around her shoulders obscuring the straps of her white, cotton nightgown. Her focused amber eyes were framed by a serene face. She didn't look any different at all.

But her giant sword was in her hand and it was crackling with golden energy She didn't need a fancy transformation with wings and glowing eyes to show her true power; she was the power.

The man charged and Hermione met his down slice with her own blade. Without even bracing herself or adjusting her one-handed hold on her sword she shoved him back. To his credit, the unknown assassin kept a grip on his weapon as his back collided with the stone wall. Pushing away as Hermione lifted her sword the two began to circle one another.

Draco could barely follow their movements as blade met blade in a vicious onslaught again and again without relenting. Sparks exploded outwards as they attacked and parried, illuminating empty faces leading each other in the killing dance.

The man feinted to the left and as Hermione shifted her stance to block the attack she thought was coming he sliced his sword out to her right. Pivoting instantly, she dodged backwards leaving the tip of the blade to cut the air right across her stomach. As he was still completing his swing she spun around and brought the sword in a downward arc at his head. Lady Luck must have taken pity on him for the momentum of his earlier attack made him stagger and he stumbled just to the side of an attack that would have completely bisected him.

Draco watched as Hermione gave a violent kick to the man's stomach and was rewarded with a sharp crack across her jaw with his fist. They crossed swords again and shoved each other away. Running at her exposed back, the man raised his sword to strike, but it was met by Hermione's as she held her sword over her shoulder to protect herself. She spun around and the scraping of their blades produced another shower of sparks.

Now Hermione was on the attack and a quick combination of attacks forced the assassin on the defensive. Unable to get a hit in edgewise, it was all he could do to counter her strikes and lose as little ground as possible. The minute Hermione's attitude changed Draco knew the fight was coming to an end, for which he was thankful. Not only did he not enjoy seeing Hermione fighting for her life, but the small healing charm he'd cast was wearing off. There was a spot above Hermione's left ear that just wouldn't go away no matter how hard he rubbed his eyes, and his headache was creeping back. He probably had a concussion.

There was a great shout of pain and Draco's eyes shot up to see the assassin's face a bloody mess. Hermione had smashed the pommel of her sword into the bridge of his nose. His free hand had gone reflexively to cover his injured face and Hermione buried her fist in his sternum. Something cracked and Draco's eyes widened in surprise. The man was bent over gasping desperately for air as the hilt of her sword collided with his mouth. Draco thought he saw a tooth fall out, but there was so much blood he couldn't be sure.

Simultaneously, Hermione swept the man's legs out from under him and slammed the sword's pommel between his shoulder blades. He collapsed to the ground in a quivering heap. Somehow, through all the injury she'd inflicted, Hermione had miraculously managed to keep any blood from making it on her person, and now she stepped daintily around the pooling blood, her bare feet smacking on the stone.

The man was struggling to his knees. Not a single emotion crossed Hermione's face as she raised her sword above her head, point down. She'd retreated into her mind where there was nothing but white fog and the noise of static. There was no remorse as she buried her sword in his back just as he thrust upwards.

"HERMIONE!"

Hermione gasped.

Her eyes went wide in disbelief and her mouth opened in silent protest. She stumbled backwards wrenching her sword from the man's back. Very slowly, her head lowered and she stared down with a sickened face. Blood spilled over the smooth metal and dulled the smooth steel hilt of the sword. Her own sword fell from her numb grasp and clattered to the stone floor. She watched in gross fascination as the thick crimson liquid bled through the thin material of her dress. In the back of her mind she wondered how any person could have so much blood. It seemed impossible that it could continue to pour from her as if it would never stop. She watched how it trickled down the sword's handle and hung their in beaded droplets until gravity pulled it down into an already large puddle pooled around her bare feet.

Dizziness overtook her. Maybe she didn't have quite as much blood as she thought. Her hands lowered and she tentatively pressed her palms to the space above the sword, where it was embedded in her torso. Pain, unlike that she'd ever felt before raced through her and she instantly flung her hands away. It was like touching a hot stove. The pain dulled and then disappeared as the dizzying euphoria of staring at her own blood took over. Sticky crimson coated her small hands, making them burn with flaming warmth. The indescribably sensation of her life's energy bathing her hands made her dizzy and sick with realization. Realization that, even as the blood cooled on her skin, her body too was filling with the cold air of death.

The assassin smiled a satisfied smile as the blood ran between the gaps in his teeth. He knew that he was dying, but not even that stopped the swell of pride that showed in his face. He had done what was asked of him and had defied fate in the name of his glorious master.

"She is dead..." He wheezed. Staring up at Draco in defiance, he coughed, spraying blood across the floor. And with his last breath he called out to his lord – the man turned god – trusting that his master would deliver him. "Long...live...V-Voldemort."

He was dead.

Draco's wand felt suddenly heavy in his hand and everything seemed to slow as he turned to face Hermione. Even his voice seemed faint and sluggish as he screamed in pain.

"NOOOOOO!"

A distant part of Hermione's mind was screaming out as well, but no one would ever hear it. Her mind was arguing desperately that this couldn't be happening; she wasn't supposed to die like this. This wasn't her Fate – this wasn't fair. But all the pain...all the unfairness...all thought melted away until all that was left...was the ache in her heart.

Her hands found their way to the handle of the sword. Of their own accord they ripped the weapon from her torso, but she was numb to the pain. As it slid easily from her cooling body like it would its own sheath it made a sickening sound separating from her flesh. But still the pain did not reach her. When the blade was finally free from the case of her body she dropped it upon her own, earlier discarded sword and fell numbly to her knees. The throbbing warmth of her own blood in which she kneeled soon outbalanced the cold feeling of the chilled stone. Blood-red crimson stained the hem of her dress where it dragged against the ground and the blood coated her legs in its sticky heat.

She raised her head with care and looked up at Draco. He was rooted to the spot.

The ache in Hermione's heart became stronger. Oh, how handsome he looked; he was always so handsome. If only there had been more time...

She collapsed to the floor.

He was suddenly back in control of his body and he ran to her. The few feet it took to reach her seemed an eternity and when he pulled her into his arms he feared it might have been too late. But she turned her head slowly and looked up at him. Her eyes flickered slightly, but he forced himself not to look away. They stopped and they were Hermione's very human eyes gazing back up at him.

"Oh, Hermione..." he choked.

Blood.

There was blood...all over the floor. It ran along the cool stone, staining everything it touched.

Blood.

She was covered in it.

"Draco..." She whispered.

He ran his hands absently through her chestnut hair – in an attempt to sooth her – and tried not to move her too much. She seemed so tiny in that moment. So frail, so petite, and covered in so much blood that he couldn't help the tears falling from his eyes. The sound of his own heart wrenching sobs was nearly too much for him to bare, and he clenched his jaw as he looked away from her prone body.

Baduum...Baduum...Baduum...

Hermione pressed a hand to her aching chest as if such a simple thing could ease the pain in her heart. Her mind was starting to slip away and she could feel her body shutting down. She'd died so many times in her dreams, but this time...this time it was real. She almost couldn't believe it. Tears pricked at her eyes.

Harry.

Ron.

She'd never get to tell them goodbye. Never get to tell them how much they meant to her. She sobbed. The tears that she had been holding back now rolled unhindered down her cheeks, but she could not feel them. She couldn't feel anything – no the tears, not the pain, nor the arms around her.

Ginny.

Postvorta.

Dumbledore.

McGonagall.

Snape.

Their faces were all blurring together.

Fleur.

Viktor.

Remus.

Sirius.

Moody.

Tonks.

All the people that believed in her.

Hermione cried not for herself, but for the world. Everyone she was going to let die.

She had failed...

The final battle would come and Voldemort would slaughter them all. Knowing that your death would bring about the massacre of man wasn't was other people thought about when they died. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, lovers, friends...that's what ordinary people thought about in their last moments on earth. No one had any idea how it felt.

She felt as if she were already dead.

Draco.

"Draco..." she breathed.

Draco turned to her. Back in the common room the stereo clicked faintly and changed songs. The haunting melody carried out through the open portrait and echoed dimly through the empty hallway.

"Draco, I'm so sorry...I guess I wasn't fast enough..."

"Ssh," he whispered, brushing a stray curl from her face. "Just hold on. Someone must have heard. Someone's coming, Hermione – Just hold on."

"I've failed..."

"No! You haven't failed – you're still alive.

She smiled then and the light in her eyes seemed to dim, "I'm not afraid."

"Hermione! No!" He grabbed her hand and pulled it away from where it clutched her chest. A glistening red handprint stained the white cloth over her heart. She went on, speaking quickly as if there was so much for her to say and so little time in which she had to do it.

"Oh, Draco...you never listen to what you don't want to hear..." she whispered and a faint smile played on her lips. Only Hermione could be near-death and still smile. "Please...let me finish. I don't be here much longer and there's so much I need to tell you. Tell everyone I'm sorry...I couldn't find my power in time."

More tears fell down her cheeks and her lips trembled. "Tell Severus it wasn't his fault...I just wasn't ready." She coughed and blood trickled down her cheek, "And tell...tell Harry and Ron goodbye..."

She sobbed now, unable to bare the thought of leaving her best friends behind. Heart-wrenching tears poured down her face. Draco brushed away the crystalline paths her tears made but she reached up to stop him. The blood coating it made her hand slide slickly across his as she pulled it away.

"I'm sorry for all the dramatics..." she whispered throatily, "People die everyday – there's no need for tears."

Draco wanted to tell her it was all right to cry. That it was all right to feel pain. But he couldn't bring himself to admit that she was dying. He refused to believe that such an impossibility was true. "Everyone cries when they're hurt, Hermione. But just wait, Madame Pomfrey will fix you up."

Hermione reached up and silenced him with a finger upon his lips. After a moment she let that finger fall away leaving a bold crimson line down his chin. He opened his mouth to speak but the taste of her blood consumed him. It tasted like iron. It was so strong that only the few drops that spilled over his lips filled his mouth with its metallic tang.

"Draco, no matter what I've said...I love you." She coughed again and another trail of blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.

There was so much blood.

Everywhere.

"I love you too, Hermione."

"It's ironic," she breathed. "That it would take a mortal wound to finally make me admit it. But it's true."

Her face was ashen white and her lips were pale as she spoke. "You once told me that when you went into battle...that you'd be thinking of me." Her eyes flashed weakly. "I wanted you to know...I'm thinking of you now..."

Draco bent over her and cried. His tears rolled off his cheeks and splattered on Hermione's face. They mixed with her blood and bred pink trails down her face. The salty paths dipped over her lips and it was almost like she could taste his shower.

Her vision blurred and it wasn't from tears. She felt the numbness passing through her body and knew that her final moments on earth were now. "I-It's time for me to go..."

Her body shuddered and she coughed up a mouthful of blood. It ran down her chin and neck and onto Draco's arm.

"Hermione, NO! Fight it! You have to hold on!" He shook her slightly and her head lolled around limply over his arm. "Merlin! Please save her!"

Hermione's hand trembled as she lifted it up to caress his face. She couldn't see things clearly, but his shining blue-gray eyes were distance though the fog. Her half-dried bloody smeared across the side of his face, but neither took notice because her breaths were coming short.

Suddenly a ray of hope rose in the distance as the sound of footsteps reached them. They were coming from the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. Draco shook her lightly, "See, I told you 'Mione. I told you someone would come."

She mumbled something incoherently and Draco could barely hear her.

"...don't...forget. promise..."

The light in her eyes seemed to go out and panic rose in Draco's chest. "HELP! Somebody help me! For the love of god – SOMEBODY!" The footsteps broke into a run.

"I'll come back...for you," she whispered.

Things were getting so dark. Hermione's hand fell from his face. He looked down at her in anguish. Her head rolled to the side and fell halfway into the pool of blood.

"Hermione?" She didn't answer, "Hermione! HERMIONE!"

Her dull amber eyes started, half-lidded at nothing; unblinking.

Inside the common room the music died away into silence and the CD clicked to a stop.