A/N: Is it better to post short chapters frequently, or longer chapters infrequently? Let me know…

Chapter 26

Albus Dumbledore sat on a tree stump surrounded by tall trees and ferns smoking a pipe. The woods were quiet except for the singing of a few birds, and the innocent babble of a nearby brook. His house sat forlornly a few paces away. He had few visitors these days, except for the occasional visit from Professor Flitwick. But even these sessions were few and far between. Dumbledore could tell that his friends and colleagues were losing hope. The past eight months had taken their toll.

Dumbledore had to admit that he too was wondering if young Draco would ever lose control. After all, Draco Malfoy had been one of Hogwart's best students, and Hermione Granger had been at the top of her class. Both had been candidates for Head Boy and Girl. Dumbledore had been the only one not surprised when their engagement had been announced. He remembered all too well that night when Harry Potter had been left on his aunt and uncle's doorstep that another infant was given to unsuspecting muggles with the instructions that she should never know she wasn't her parent's true child.

Taking a long drag from his pipe, Dumbledore gazed up at the castle, then closed his eyes. His wand might have been taken away, but Dumbledore had spent so many years studying magic that he was aware of many methods to operate without a wand or other magic devices. After a few moments Dumbledore had settled into a hazy meditative state. Taking deep breaths he waited for the dreams to come.

* * *

Draco closed the doors to his bedroom as quietly as possible. He quickly headed for his bed, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. Hermione slept with a peaceful expression on her face, undisturbed by his entrance to the room.

As worried as he was about Hermione, Draco fell right asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He didn't dream, that he could remember, which was fine with him. The night passed quickly.

* * *

Sorcha woke the next morning with a smile on her face. She was happy to be back with Ron, even if it meant she was separated from her sister. They didn't belong together anymore – they'd finally become completely separate people.

Turning to face Ron, who still slept peacefully next to her, Sorcha took a fingertip and gently traced his features. He slept right through it, and she rested her hand on his chest. The Ron that slept next to her was a different Ron than the one she had left behind a few months ago. She could see it in his eyes, his face, his hands; she could taste it even.

Ron opened his eyes and stared straight up for a second. His left hand came to rest on his chest, covering Sorcha's. Closing his hand around hers, he turned his head to face her. Her eyes closed as he leaned to kiss her forehead. He closed his own eyes briefly and took a deep breath, smelling her hair and savoring the moment.

"If we ever get out of here, I'm going to marry you," he promised her, tipping her chin up to kiss her lips.

* * *

Draco stood outside his bedroom, his ear pressed to the door. He couldn't remember a time when he'd felt more nervous. Tearing himself away, he began to pace up and down the hallway.

Stretching her arms as she came down the stairs, Breena headed straight for Draco. She threw her arms around him in greeting. Draco sighed and pushed her away.

"Breena, I thought I made it clear last night that I am in no way-" Draco stopped speaking as the door to his room opened. The Mediwitch stepped out and motioned for him to come to the room. He gave Breena a final look and tried not to run down the hall. He pushed the door open and was immediately at Hermione's side, noticing she was in tears.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, stroking her hair. Hermione shook her head, unable to speak.

"She's pregnant," the witch said for her. Draco dropped his hands. His brow furrowed as he stepped back from the bed. Eyes flashing red and back to blue, Draco looked from Hermione to the nurse and back.

"Are you sure?" he asked. The witch nodded. Draco turned to Hermione, furious. He was seething now. She would barely let him touch her, but she was sleeping with some other guy? "Slut," he hissed, not finding any other words. Hermione sobbed louder.

"Please, your Excellence, it's not what you think," the witch tried to help Hermione. Draco turned to glare at her too.

"Are you mad? I know how this works, that was the only part of Muggle Studies I paid any attention to. This is exactly what I think," Draco snapped. The witch recoiled.

"Sir, if I could just explain," she tried again, but Draco was on his way out the door.

* * *

Dumbledore's eyes flew open, and he fell over backwards as he awoke from his dream. Struggling to his feet, he chuckled to himself.

"Harry Potter," he murmered, shaking his head. "Harry Potter."

* * *

Dark black rainclouds gathered in a spiral above the palace. Draco had locked himself in his study and wasn't speaking to anyone. Severus sighed to himself as he took the tray away from the door, untouched.

He headed down the hall to visit Hermione. She looked very pale and tear-streaked, propped up against some pillows. Severus came in and sat on the edge of the bed.

"How are we feeling this afternoon?" Severus asked. Hermione sighed and shrugged her shoulders. She looked away, her eyes focusing on some intangible point across the room. Severus pulled a book out of his cloak and placed it in her lap. "I thought you might want to read it a little bit later, if you feel up to it," he offered. Hermione didn't respond and Severus slipped out of the room.

Hermione pulled the book a little closer to see what it was. She looked up at the closed door in surprise, as if it were Severus.

"The Holy Bible?" she asked aloud. She set it aside, thinking that maybe Severus had really lost it this time.

* * *

"Draco, open the door," Lucius commanded. There was complete silence from the room. Lucius sighed. "Draco Malfoy, I am warning you," Lucius tried. He was getting very angry with his son.

A runner came sprinting up the hallway just then, and addressed Lucius.

"Mr. Malfoy, enemy forces are gathering on the border. They're ready to attack," he said. Lucius looked at the boy and then at the closed door. Without a moment's hesitation, he knocked the door in with his shoulder.

Draco stared at his dad, lying on the floor on top of the broken wood pieces and raised an eyebrow.

"Attack," Lucius gasped. "We're under attack."

* * *

Hermione Granger stood on her balcony, her shadow falling across the tile. The pale moonlight formed a halo around her enhanced by her white nightgown, and the white sheet that she had pulled around her. She watched the red glow of the torches lit by the enemy troops spanning the horizon. It seemed like they had just finished the first war only to start this second one.

A soft noise behind her made her turn around. Breena was standing at the door to her room, a velvet pillow in her hands.

"You're so pale," Breena gasped, her eyes focusing on Hermione. She crossed the balcony to stand with Hermione. "Maybe you should lie down," she suggested. Hermione shook her head.

"I've been lying down all day," she protested. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long," Breena lied. "Severus thought you'd want some company."

"Well, I'm alright," Hermione replied, not sure Breena was the kind of company she wanted. Breena smiled.

"I know you and I didn't always get along, but don't you think we can put that behind us now?" Breena asked. Hermione shrugged and looked out across the horizon again. Breena lifted the tiara she was holding off the pillow and placed it on Hermione's head, adjusting it so it sat nestled in her curls. Hermione's hand touched the jewels briefly. Her eyes flashed red briefly.

"Thank you," Hermione muttered. Breena nodded and left quickly. Hermione sighed and rested her hands on the cement railing. She knew that Draco was busy preparing to counterattack, but she wished he would come and see her. He had been avoiding her, and she couldn't blame him, but she wanted a chance to explain before it was too late.

* * *

Draco sat at his desk pouring over map after map of the surrounding landscape. He was planning the Dark campaign, and had been for several hours now. His eyes were growing heavy and, whether he wanted it to or not, his head was soon resting on the desk.

Draco, don't be an idiot. I've made sure that you can't fail. Don't waste your time creating elaborate plans, everything has already been seen to. Go tell Hermione you love her and get out of here the familiar voice spoke to Draco's subconscious mind. I know you don't understand what's going on, but trust in me, I won't lead you astray.

Draco woke just then, startled by a sound in the room. Severus had just entered with a box.

"Severus?" Draco asked.

"Your Excellence, your army is assembled and waiting for your orders. Her Royal Highness is waiting for you on her balcony," Severus informed him. Draco nodded, a feeling of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. He'd been a total ass to Hermione the last time he'd seen her, and now he was heading off into battle. There wasn't enough time to set things right with her. Severus opened the box and placed a crown on Draco's head.

"I had pictured a helmet of sorts," Draco admitted, frowning at his reflection. Severus sighed.

"It's tradition, your Grace," Snape explained. Draco nodded and then looked around the room. He couldn't stall any longer, it was time to head out.

* * *

Hermione watched from her balcony as the Royal Dark Troops rode off the palace grounds, led by Lucius Malfoy. Draco was situated safely in the middle of the formation. He turned to look up at her as he rode away. Their eyes connected, glowing red. Hermione took a shaky deep breath and wondered if he was as scared as she was. She squeezed her eyes closed and a memory of a faraway time came rushing back to her.

She and Draco were sitting in their lounge at Hogwart's, drinking hot cocoa. It was during the early days of being under His influence, and she was still in pain. Suddenly it seemed as if reality was disappearing and she was back at Hogwart's, safe in Draco's arms.

"Draco, please, why can't you save me from this?" Hermione asked, grabbing his arms. Her eyes pleaded with his….

"Once he is dead, then we will be free," Draco whispered.

Shaking her head fiercely, Hermione looked around to see the familiar balcony around her. Her entire body was shaking, Draco's words were echoing in her head.

"Once he is dead, we will be free," Hermione whispered, looking around her. She didn't feel free. She was still here in the palace, wearing a crown. "What do I have to do?" she asked aloud. Without knowing why, she looked up at the sky just in time to see the first snowflakes start to fall. They swirled around her, starting to move faster as the temperature started to drop.

Hermione headed inside, shaking her nightgown free of the water. She decided to take a hot bath.

* * *

Pansy stood at the door of her house, watching the royal troops ride through the camp streets. A sick feeling formed in her stomach. She didn't think she could handle another war; the last one had been bad enough. Just then the troops reached the edge of the houses and turned around. Raising their wands, they set all the houses on fire. Screams rang out all around her. Pansy couldn't force herself to move, she was in shock. How could an army set fire to its own people?

"They're barbarians," she whispered, answering her own question as she got caught up in the flow of people fleeing the fires. Not knowing how, Pansy found herself perched on the stone wall that surrounded the camp. It was the furthest she could get from the fires. She looked around, to see all the other women and children sitting with her. The men stood on the ground, watching their hard work disappear in smoke.

"Why didn't they just take them away?" Pansy wondered aloud. "It would have been just as easy."

"It's a bargaining tool. If the Light side relents, they put the fires out. If not, then we all die and their work is for nothing," a voice answered. Pansy turned to see Sorcha sitting next to her. She couldn't force herself to recognize the girl; Sorcha had what Pansy wanted: Ron.

"Do you think they'll give up?" Pansy asked.

"Never," Sorcha replied.

* * *

Draco sat at the edge of a cliff, looking down into the valley where the Light warriors had made their camp. His men were looting and destroying what they'd left behind. The plan was to circle around behind the army and surprise them.

The horse below him was the same one Lord Voldemort had ridden in battle. Anathema was coping just fine. Draco was another story entirely. His stomach was in knots having never ridden a horse before, and never having been involved in more conflict than just a few elementary duels. The thought had never crossed his mind to prepare for an uprising.

Unlike the battles his father fought that had taken place on broomsticks, this war was being fought on horseback. It gave the Dark Side an advantage over the Light, who were on foot and equipped with primitive muggle weapons. Draco had his wand, but that was about all he had. Turning his horse around, Draco took his place in the formation and they headed to catch up with the Light army.

When the enemy came into view, Draco was surprised to see how small they were. Their numbers had vastly dwindled since the last confrontation. They were caught off guard as the Dark Army surrounded them in a horseshoe-shaped formation from behind. Draco pulled his horse back to sit on the outside of the ring. He was safer outside, observing. His mind started to wander, the dream he'd had just before leaving entering his memory. Suddenly he felt very far from Hermione even though the palace wasn't very small on the horizon.