Chapter One:

Fight to the Death

Draco stood completely still. The entire room was silent except for the fierce crackling of the fire. Despite the heat being generated by the flames, the room was deathly cold. Draco could see his own breath. Shivers shook his body as he fought to remain motionless. Every eye in the room was rested upon him. Each glare burned straight through him and his heart raced over a million times a minute. Despite his unbearably uncomfortable conditions, he maintained eye contact with the wizard before him. Standing at six foot five, Lord Voldemort topped Draco by quite a few inches. His eyes were an unforgiving shade of deep purple, almost black. Hatred burned deep within the powerful wizard as he looked upon Draco.

"You have failed, young master Malfoy, to gather the information necessary to complete the process." Draco wasn't sure how to reply to this, so he decided it was best to remain silent. Voldemort eyed him as though he was an irritating mosquito. "You do understand the consequences of this failure, don't you, Draco?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"I'm not sure you do," Voldemort cut him off coldly. "You see, the information that you failed to obtain would have secured my title as the most feared wizard in all of history. I was going to rule the world, Draco. Magic and non-magic. The muggles would have been our slaves. Why have you not brought back the information?" The demand hit a soft spot in Draco. Voldemort would be furious if he knew. He would be furious anyway, but at least without him knowing, she would be safe.

"I could not gain her trust."

"I'm not sure if I made myself clear when I gave you this essential assignment, Draco. I wanted you to get that information by any means necessary. The end justifies the means."

"Our environment prevented me from being able to force her under any spell."

"I am not pleased, Draco. You will be punished." Draco was prepared for the torture. What ever it was, it couldn't be worse than anything he'd already experienced. As usual, he spent a few moments inhaling and exhaling deeply to calm his nerves. But Voldemort did not reach for his wand. He nodded to one of the Death Eaters standing by the door. Draco narrowed his eyebrows, waiting for the Death Eater to return. Voldemort had an odd sort of grin on his face. A shiver passed through Draco, and he had the most disturbing feeling that whatever was about to happen was going to be far worse than death. Draco almost died on the spot when the Death Eater returned, dragging a girl by the arm.

"Let go of me! Let go!" She screamed, struggling hard against the Death Eater's grip. The servant of Voldemort only grinned at her and threw her to the floor at the feet of Voldemort. She remained there on the floor, brushing brown curls out of her face, which was covered in scratches. Thin lines of blood had trickled down her cheeks that were smudged with dirt and ash. Voldemort smiled down at her.

"Welcome, mudblood." Draco fought the instinct to yell at the Dark Lord for calling her such a name. "I assume you know who I am."

"Voldemort?" She whispered in disbelief. She glanced around, her eyes finally resting on Draco. "Draco, what's going on?" Voldemort chuckled, low and sinister. She shrank back as Voldemort reached out to touch her.

"My dear girl, don't you understand what's happening?"

"No. I'm afraid I don't," She replied, still gazing at Draco, who could only look at the floor.

"What does it look like? I'm about to stage a coup d'etat on the Ministry of Magic and take over the magical world."

"No," She whispered, suddenly frightened.

"You have been a principal character in my scheme. Young Draco here was supposed to do this job himself, but I've found him to be incapable." Draco saw the look of heartbreak in her eyes, and guilt ripped through him.

"What do you want with me?"

"I want to know your secrets."

"Excuse me? I haven't the slightest idea what you're referring to."

"Don't pretend to be stupid," Voldemort snapped, making her jump. "I've been told that you were chosen as Dumbledore's secret keeper."

"Then you have been misinformed."

"We shall see about that soon enough," Voldemort grinned at her again.

"Excuse me, my Lord, but Le Moyne is in the drawing room," A Death Eater interrupted.

"Le Moyne? What does he want?"

"He brings urgent news from the Ministry." Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously in Draco's direction.

"Tell him we shall be with him shortly."

"Yes, my Lord." The Death Eater left, and the others followed. Voldemort remained behind with Lucius Malfoy and Avery Richmond.

"Malfoy, Richmond, guard the doors. Do not let the boy or the mudblood escape," Voldemort ordered sharply. Lucius and Richmond nodded in response and followed the Dark Lord as he exited the room. When they were alone, Draco turned to face her.

"I'm sorry," He told her immediately. Her eyes flashed with anger.

"You were using me?"

"You don't understand-"

"I think I understand perfectly, Malfoy," She spat. He winced at the hatred in her voice. He started approaching her slowly, as though he was afraid that she'd run away.

"Please, just let me explain."

"What is there left to explain? You were ordered to force me to reveal my secrets to you so you could report back to him."

"That's not all."

"There's more? Were you supposed to kill me afterwards, perhaps?"

"Just listen to me!"

"You know what, Malfoy? I can't. I can't bear to listen to you tell me that you're not a person who would do that, because I've heard it from you before. You obviously did not mean it then, so how am I supposed to believe them now?"

"Please," Draco pleaded, near tears. He stopped a few inches away from her. She stared into his eyes with tears in her own. Behind her fear and anger, she stood strong and proud. She was tougher than anyone would imagine. If she played that card, it could very well be Voldemort's downfall.

"I can't believe I ever loved you," She whispered. The words sliced through Draco's heart with the pain of a thousand knives. A lone tear freed itself from his solid blue eyes. The experience was new to him. He could not remember the last time he had cried. He wasn't one to reveal emotions. He had always been stolid, cold. With the release of this first tear, a part of him died, no longer seeing the need to continue on. She turned away from him and stared out the window. It was snowing. The sky was a threatening gray, and the snow was coming down heavily. Draco could see her breath and his own. His mind raced. There wasn't much time left for either of them. Their fates were inevitable. They were both going to be killed. One single thought ran through his mind over and over. We need to get out. He scanned the room, searching for something-anything-that could be of use. Neither of them had their wands. The situation was grim. There were two Death Eaters guarding the exit. There was an entire room full of Death Eaters above them. Most importantly, the most powerful wizard the magical world has ever known was present. He would not hesitated to kill them if they tried to escape. But they couldn't just stay there and await death. It's better to die trying, than to die quiet. And who knows? They could theoretically make it.

"We have to get out."

"Excuse me?" She turned around and stared at him.

"We have to get out. Now. Before they come back."

"What do you propose we do, Malfoy? If you come up with any bright ideas-"

"Can't you forget for one second that you hate me and help me figure this out? Look, they're not going to kill you. They need you. You should at least try to get out of here."

"What about you?" She asked, looking down at the floor, pretending not to care.

"I'm going to die either way. I might as well give life a shot. I'm not doing that standing here."

"What do you think we should do?"

"I think we only have one shot," Draco replied, shifting his gaze to the window. She followed his eyes and slowly nodded.

"I've got an idea. This needs to be done very quietly," She looked around, taking note of the room's contents. "We can stack the couch and the chairs against the door incase we're really pressed for time."

"They can just Apparate."

"Not right away. They'll take a few moments to realize what's happening. We're saving seconds only by doing that, so we need to decide if it's even worth it."

"Well, what's the rest of the plan?"

"We can't just break open the window. Someone will hear that. We need the fire poker. It's going to take some time, but we can produce enough small cracks in the glass to remove them piece by piece."

"Okay...let's stack the furniture. It will give us the time to jump out the window if we're not done picking it apart."

"Okay. Let's do that now." As quietly as they could manage, they piled the furniture up against the door. Draco's heart was pounding so loud, he was surprised that Voldemort hadn't popped in by then. "Right...now let's start on the window." She picked up the fire poker and approached the window. Carefully, she tapped it with the tip. Nothing.

"You need to do it a little harder than that."

"Then you do it! I'm too nervous." Draco took the fire poker and stabbed at the glass. A hair-like crack spread on the glass. After several more jabs, the glass was covered in thin cracks.

"Okay...see that triangular piece? Poke it out," She directly. Draco held his breath as he punched out the piece of glass. A blast of cold, winter air flooded through the window. They breathed a sigh of relief in unison. Draco continued to chip away the glass. Soon, there was a hole in the window large enough for them to squeeze out.

"I'm just going to get that jagged piece up there," Draco told her, pointing at a dangerous looking shard of glass.

"Don't!" She exclaimed, as he jabbed at it. A huge sheet of glass fell and shattered on the floor with a deafening crash. Without pausing to think, Draco jumped out of the window and dragged her outside. She cried out suddenly, but Draco ignored it. His feet crunched in the snow as he ran, holding onto her hand.

"They can follow our footprints!" She exclaimed, her voice almost completely disappearing in the wind. They stopped and looked behind them. The heavy snow was covering up their tracks in seconds.

"Come on! Keep running!" Draco shouted, dragging her into a grove of pine trees.

"But-"

"Come on!"

"Stop!" She exclaimed, breathlessly. Draco stopped running and turned to her, impatient.

"We have to keep moving. What's wrong?" She pulled her hand from her stomach and Draco paled to see it covered in blood. "When did that happen?"

"On the way out the window. A piece of glass caught and sliced me from the chest down." The deep incision ran between her breasts and ended right above her navel. Blood was rushing out of the wound, and she couldn't keep pressure on the entire slice. Draco looked at the snow, which was being stained red.

"At least they can't chase us for long. Soon the Aurors will be showing up."

"That's what the urgent message was?"

"Not really. He was just infiltrating and informing back to Dumbledore, who was going to show up with reinforcements after a few minutes."

"Okay...we need to get you some help."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. If that cut splits any further, you're really going to be in trouble."

"But we can't go back there. If the fighting is still going on, or if the Aurors haven't gotten there yet, they can still kill us."

"You still need help. You at least need a jacket. You look freezing."

"You're not going back, are you?"

"I don't have a choice."

"Yes you do! Don't go! If they catch you, they'll kill you!"

"It's a risk I have to take. Just stay under this pine tree, try to put as much pressure on the wound as you can, and I'll be right back."

"But-"

"I'm going back," Draco stated firmly. Then he started back towards the house. He could barely see it through the snow. He crept slowly as he neared the window. There were shouts and crashes coming from inside. Draco could only assume that there was a war waging in there. Realizing that there would be no one guarding the front doors, he hurried around to the other side. Once inside, he dug through the coat closet and found a heavy cloak. Then he hurried to the bathroom and was confused as to what he should take. Finally, he dumped all of the emergency medical products into a bag and hurried out. As he hurried back to the pine grove, he noticed a pair of footprints heading in the same direction. He squinted and saw a tiny, almost invisible black figure entering the grove. Draco cursed and broke into a run. When Draco got to the pine tree where he had left her, he stopped short. She was lying on the ground, blood spilling onto the snow. Her face almost matched the snow in shade, and her lips were blue with the cold. Standing to her left, was Lord Voldemort. He had a sadistic grin on his evil face.

"Brave attempt, Draco. You've displayed remarkable courage, but it was in vain." Draco wasn't looking at the Dark Lord. His eyes were glued to the girl dying in the snow. Whether blood loss or the bitter cold would take her was anyone's guess. His heart ached painfully. It was all his fault that she was even here right now. She could very well be relaxing in front of a cozy fire somewhere.

"Now, mudblood. It is time for you to reveal to me the secrets you've been keeping," Voldemort turned to her. She didn't look frightened, or at all perplexed. It was as though she knew she was inevitably going to die.

"You'll have to kill me first," She whispered.

"I intend to kill you, but you first must give me what I want. I suppose the arrival of the Aurors was your doing?"

"Your downfall will be that you underestimate people."

"Silence, mudblood. Reveal your secrets to me and I will spare Draco's life." Her head lifted slightly at this and she stared at Draco.

"Don't do it. He's lying," Draco shouted. Voldemort turned his sinister gaze to Draco.

"Then perhaps she'd like to see you die now. Maybe that will make her see reason."

"Don't do it. Whatever happens, don't tell him anything," Draco told her. She nodded, her lower lip trembling. Voldemort reached for his wand.

"Very well then. Crucio." Agonizing pain shot through every inch of Draco. He knew well enough to not cry out for mercy. It would only make Voldemort torture him longer. The pain went on for what seemed like hours. When it finally subsided, Draco was lying in the snow, sweating profusely.

"Stop hurting him!" She was screaming. Voldemort turned to her and smiled.

"Perhaps we can come to some sort of accord, then?"

"No! Don't-" Draco choked out.

"You won't kill him?" She asked, carefully. Voldemort's eyes glinted with a malicious laugh.

"I won't kill him." Draco pulled himself up from the ground and rushed at Voldemort. He hit him with all the force he could muster, and the pair fell into the snow. Voldemort's wand flew out of his hand and landed twenty feet away. Draco lunged for it, but Voldemort yanked him back and punched him in the stomach.

"Get the wand!" Draco shouted. Already weakened by the loss of blood, she could barely drag herself across the snow. When she couldn't move any further, she reached out. Her fingertips were just grazing the end of the wand. As she was about to close her fingers around it, Voldemort's hand closed around the wand. She closed her eyes and waited for the end.

"Avada Kedrava!" A voice bellowed, but it was not Voldemort's. Nor was it Draco's. She opened her eyes. Voldemort fell into the snow, face first, stiff as a board. Harry Potter was at the edge of the pine grove, wand extended.

"Go get help, Potter!" Draco shouted. Harry froze, staring at the scene before him. "Go now!" Draco barked. Harry slipped as he turned around quickly, but he started bolting off towards the house. Draco crawled through the snow over to a very pale Gryffindor.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered. It was all he could think to say, even though he understood that sorry wasn't quite enough. She managed a weak smile and lifted her hand to brush hair out of his face.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

"I understand why you didn't."

"I didn't mean what I said...about not knowing how I ever loved you." A tear slid down Draco's face, and she brushed it away gently. "I do love you, Draco Malfoy." Draco carefully lifted her head and hugged it to his chest.

"You're going to make it, Hermione. You're going to get through this. And when this is all over, you're going to marry me. And we'll raise beautiful children who are just as wonderful as their mother." Hermione smiled at the thought. A darkness began to cloud her mind. As the black began to stretch over her, memories began playing like a film strip. Memories of the past six months. Right from the first day of her seventh year at Hogwarts until yesterday. Each memory more vivid and wonderful than the last. If she was about to die, then she wouldn't rather be in anyone else's arms.

Will she live? It's certainly not looking good. But you won't find out for sure unless you stick around until the last chapter. :-D sorry guys.