Recap:

"Call me Draco."

"I will if—"

"Shut up, Granger. You're ruining the moment."

Chapter 22: Deceit

The thestrals touched down some three or more hours later; Hermione has lost count. Her fingers, as well as the rest of her body, were numb. She clutched her woolen cloak tight around herself, doing little to protect herself from the ravaging winter wind.

"I c-can't f-feel my f-f-fingers," Ginny stuttered, pressing herself against Harry, who she hoped possessed more warmth than her.

"We have to be careful now, you guys," Harry said, his voice strong and determined. Whether he meant to or not, he was taking control of the situation. Hermione knew that he would, of course. What kind of friend would he be if he allowed her to fight Voldemort? Not one that she would want, that was for sure. "Don't talk unless you have to. And—Ron!" he whispered harshly, glaring back at him. "Don't step on my cloak!"

And so the four friends walked quickly, but quietly through the densely crowded forest. It was far different from that of the Forbidden Forest, for its trees were thicker around the middle by a considerable amount, and much taller, casting them back into the night after having traveled so long in the blinding morning sun.

Just when the silence was becoming so unbearable that Hermione wanted to shout to break it, there was a dull sound in the distance ahead. Ron took in a sharp breath and Ginny straightened herself, unhinging her arm from Harry's, her wand ready. All their wands were ready, in fact, and aimed in the direction of the noise.

"Everyone," Harry demanded in the lowest whisper he could muster while still being heard, "get behind me and stay alert."

Hermione did as she was instructed, the harsh knot in her stomach tightening with unbearable pressure. But she wasn't afraid, so much as guilty. She was betraying her son in order to right the wrong she committed on his father. Along with her best and most trusted friends, she was wandering almost blindly through an unknown forest, and not an adult knew of their whereabouts. They had told no one and left in such a hurry that none of them even thought to leave a note. Melantha must have been tearing apart Dumbledore's office about now, shrieking at him to go and find them.

When had life become so complicated? When had her decisions become wrapped in the weighty fabric of life or death?

"Everybody down!" Harry yelled, shoving the nearest person to him to the ground. They all tumbled after him. All except for Hermione, who stood stock still, stricken to her very core with something so much more terrible than fear.

"Ahh, Draco's would-be bride," came a slow, cold voice in the darkness. A moment later Hermione saw the glowing tip of a wand and took an unsteady step forward. She was through with petty fear and all that it came with!

"I know your voice, Bellatrix," Hermione said firmly, unwavering. The time for weakness was over. As a mother-to-be she had a duty to her son and his father. She would not cower and she was not lose. "Let me see you."

"If you must," the older woman sighed. She brought her wand to the side of her face. Hermione now saw that she stood only feet away, her lax black hair matted and dull. She was a hollow shell of a person, possessing so much determination that one would swear she was a mother in need as well. "Satisfied, mudblood?"

"Let me see Draco," she ordered. A flicker of something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention for an instant. Harry and the others were behind and beside her, challenging this relentless woman.

"You are in no position to make demands, child."

"It's four to one," Ginny snapped.

"Even if there weren't a dozen Death Eaters surrounding us at this very moment," Bellatrix laughed, "what would I need to fear four troublesome youths who haven't even graduated yet?"

"That's enough Bella."

Hermione's heart leapt. That sounded just like—

"Draco?" she whispered, squinting her eyes into the pitch darkness. But she didn't need to strain for long. Not a moment later he emerged into Bellatrix's wand light, his cool gray eyes calm and hard, the way she always remembered them. "Draco, what—"

"I'll take it from here," he said, ignoring Hermione. Bellatrix laughed sourly and retreated to the circle of Death Eaters that were beginning to close in on them. "I knew you would come for me, Granger. And with luck you brought your nosey little friends."

"Draco, what are you saying?"

"I thought you were the genius," he snorted, crossing his arms haughtily over his chest. "This was a lure. I ran, you followed. How else was I to get you out here without having you fall for me?"

"That's a lie!" she hissed at once. "You're not Draco! You…You're someone in disguise!"

"Oh Granger," he sighed, looking very much amused with himself. "It's me. You know it is. You have that sinking feeling in your gut, that burning twinge between the eyes."

Her heart raced and her eyes darted around the now dimly lit clearing, taking in the sallow faces of the Death Eaters, the minions of the Dark Lord.

And, heartbreakingly, all she could think was: I love him, I still love him. Even now, when he's giving me to Voldemort.

In the next instant she went crashing to the ground, heaving the contents of her stomach in a sloppy pool. What was wrong with her! How could she still love him! How could she still think that there was a chance in redeeming him?

"I must be completely mad," she laughed, spitting the last dribble of sick out of her mouth. She stood and faced Draco with renewed conviction. And then, causing her friends to gasp, she held out her arms, wrists up. "Take me," she said. "I'm giving up."

"Hermione!" Ron shrieked, but was immediately silenced by the non-verbal spell she cast at him. She looked up at the others, glaring icy daggers.

"I know that Voldemort wants my son, his blood, the blood of a traitor. If you let my friends go then I will come with you without a fight."

A hissing cackle rose around her, ending abruptly when Draco grasped Hermione's wrists and nodded to them. Three stone-faced Death Eaters came forward and grabbed Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Hermione wondered why it was so easy, but, at the look on their faces, saw that they had been stunned silently. She prayed that his end of the bargain would be held up and allowed him to lead her through the black forest, just the two of them, the only light issuing from the end of his wand.

"Is Melantha here as well?"

Draco jumped slightly. Hermione has been so eerily silent for so long that it seemed she'd grown mute. He hadn't expected her to speak ever again. And especially not to him, and in such a smooth, calm voice.

"No," he said after a long while.

"What is the point of capturing me now then? But wait…" Her brow knit in thought and for a moment there was pure silence again. "The spell requires three enemies of Voldemort."

"I know that," he spat at her, rolling his eyes.

"But you—"

"The Dark Lord no longer wishes to use my pitiful mother, and obviously cannot use myself. But there are other spells, and you and the child are perfect."

"You know," she said, continuing on in her calm, normal voice. "I always thought that if someone loved you it would be enough to change you. I mean really loved you, poured their entire soul out for you just to see you smile."

His bottom lip twitched and he turned his head up, pulling hard on the ropes that bound her wrists. She would have winced as the course material cut her skin, if she hadn't been expecting this reaction.

"That's how I love you," she said, her tone somehow softer.

"Don't you mean loved?"

"No."

He stopped short, loosening his grip on the restraints.

"We're halfway there," he said, seeming to ignore her words.

Before she could ask why he'd said that, he began to untie the ropes.

"There's a lake not far from here, to the west. That's where they will have taken your friends." He refused to meet her eyes, and added, "To drown them."

"Why are you telling me this?" Her blood was pulsing in her veins. She didn't know what to do, what to feel, how to breathe.

"Go." He gave her a little shove. "Get them and Apparate to Hogsmeade. When you get there, go to the castle. You'll be safe with my mother and Dumbledore. And, whatever you do," he said sternly, taking her hands, "do not come looking for me. I made a horrible mistake. I had a dream that made me see clearly. I was going to come back, but—"

"Bellatrix found you," Hermione finished solemnly, casting her eyes at the ground.

"I knew you would come for me after that. I could feel your pain, but it was too late!" He glared furiously at nothing and clenched his hands. She ignored the pinching and smiled softly. "I knew the only way for you to escape was if I could get you alone. I was taken to Voldemort and I threw myself in front of him, telling him that I had the perfect plan to get you in his midst…If I hadn't been able to close my mind he would have seen my…my love for you."

"Draco, come with me!" she begged, grabbing onto him with a renewed vigor. "I love you. Please, don't sacrifice yourself for no reason!"

"Hermione," he sighed, shaking his head. "If I don't go back to him and offer myself, then he'll come after us all immediately."

"I won't let you do it," she said firmly, and, without warning, flicked out her wand and stunned him cold. He fell limply into her arms and she levitated him through the trees to where she knew her friends had overpowered the Death Eaters. "I knew love could change you," she whispered, kissing his stiff, immoveable forehead. "But you're really going to pay for making me doubt you back there."

She grinned ear to ear, her heart lighter than she could ever remember it being.

"You are all in a lot of danger," Professor Dumbledore said, peering at them over his half moon spectacles, a hint of anger in his voice. But, more than anything, he was relieved that they'd returned to the castle virtually unmarred. "Lord Voldemort will come after you. If not immediately, then in time. You leave me no choice but to—"

"Professor, if I could say something?" Hermione piped in, biting her lip. This was all her fault and she needed to right it now before it went on any further.

"Very well, Miss Granger. Go ahead."

"I know this is all my fault, but I also know that when Voldemort comes for us, I will do all in my power to protect everyone that I love. And I know that everyone here is willing to do the same. So, you see, there is no reason we should be sent away—"

"Is that what you thought I would do?" And for the first time in weeks Dumbledore cracked a smile and broke into a small fit of laughter.

"Professor?"

"I was going to order you all to enjoy these peaceful times while they lasted. Because, quite soon, we will all be deep in the trappings of war."

"I never meant—"

"This is no one's fault," he said sternly, looking only at her now. "This war was coming with or without the events of recent times. You are no more on his radar than the rest of us, I'm afraid. No one is safe. So drink deep, eat heartily, and laugh until it hurts, because times are dark and light will become scarce."

Several moments later them trooped out of Dumbledore's office, Melantha staying behind to have some privates words. They all bore the physical marks of that night: Harry with a great bruise forming on his jaw; Ginny with a sprained elbow; Ron with many minor cuts and scrapes; Hermione with the gash for the thestrals and raw wrists; and Draco, he looked the worst, though his skin remained flawless. Draco's hurt was inside, but it shone through with unyielding force, making him appear somehow older and weaker, his eyes downcast and his lips thin, unable to produce even a slight smirk.

When they reached the corridor that would split them into Gryffindor and Slytherin, they paused, completely silent. Not that Draco had been talking, however.

"Hey guys—" Hermione began, but Harry, Ron, and Ginny all nodded at once, and, without a word, they walked away. "Draco, say something."

"You could have died," he whispered immediately, and, to her utter surprise, she saw that his cheeks shimmered with moisture in the dim light of the torches on the walls.

"I'm fine now," she said, moving towards him. He backed away immediately.

"You deserve someone so much better, Hermione. Someone who hasn't hurt you. Someone who isn't mark and will bring you harm. Someone—"

"Who are you to decide what is best for me?" Hermione snapped, grabbing at his collar. Her mouth was on his so quickly that he hadn't time to react. When he finally regained his senses, he pushed her back gently and straightened his face.

"This can't work," he said, his pain choking his voice. "I…I'm sorry, but I won't put you in danger. I can't…"

"Damn it Draco!" she yelled, slapping him hard across the face. "Look at me! Look me in the eye, knowing how much I love you, and tell me, without stuttering, that you can't be with me. Do it and I will walk away right now and never bother you again."

For a long time he could neither speak nor look at her. And then, causing her to jump, he let out a bitter, shuddering laugh.

"You're laughing!"

"It's only fitting that I should end up with someone as stubborn, determined, and ruthless as I am."

Hermione was about to snap at him, when his words sunk in and she heaved a much needed sigh of relief.

"I love you, Draco," she said, pulling him roughly to her, her great belly pressed against him. "And you know what?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm glad it was you who I fell for. Anyone else would have been too easy," she laughed. "But with you—" She kissed him lovingly on the mouth. "—I know it's real. And no one, not even Voldemort himself, can take that away from me."

"I don't remember you talking this much," Draco said as they reached the Slytherin common room, blessedly free of all the house occupants.

"Draco Malfoy!"

"Hermione Granger!" he shot back mockingly.

"Hermione Granger my ass."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He took her hand and led her quickly into his room. She waited until the curtains were sealed and silenced before she spoke.

"I'm pregnant with your child, Draco. We're going to be living together. We love each other. And, most importantly, we have little time to enjoy together peacefully."

"Are you saying—"

"I'm not saying anything," she said, crossing her arms and turning her nose up at him, hiding her smile expertly. "I believe in traditions."

Draco's jaw hung loose on its hinges, his eyes bulging with realization.

"You are the most amazing witch I have ever met," he purred, grinning into her neck. "And you are going to make the most unbelievable wife, too."

"Good," she said, kissing his forehead. "You're not as slow as you let on."

"Hey now!"

"Hey now shut up." And with a surge of passion she shoved him down on the soft mattress, knowing that with tomorrow would come a million worries, but that right now, alone and in his arms, she could never be happier.

Ahhh! Could that be the end?...No, of course not. Heehee! What about all the loose ends I still have to tie up? Like the baby, and the wedding, and how the hell they lost their memories in the first place. Not to mention the impending doom of Voldemort. Damn, I sure do put my characters through hell, don't I? Heehee:P

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P.S. This chapter might have some changes done. I've been on a writing kick and in a few days I might decide that I want to change things. But as of now I like it. We'll see what you all think.