After months of planning, it was finalized. Hermione had managed to wiggle herself into the plans, if only so that she wouldn't be left at home without protection. Draco didn't really have a wand she could use, and even if he had, there wasn't any protection against the killing curse. That was the last thing he wanted.
The cuddling had become a routine, sometimes for large parts of the night, or only for reassurance before rolling to their own sides to sleep. Draco loved his evenings like that. They were the times where he felt okay with the chances he was taking. And boy, was he taking some chances.
Blaise had proved to be useful, managing to gain them some semi-powerful allies who would be helping in small ways. Not enough to get them killed if they failed, but enough to make a difference for Draco and Blaise.
Draco and Blaise had agreed on one thing, and only one, throughout the whole of the planning. Neither wanted to leave Hermione alone, or bring her with them. It was strange, and Blaise had been tempted to change his stance on it just to rile up Draco a bit more. But he resisted. That man's blood pressure was probably already off the charts.
Everything went according to plan. The charms and defenses taken down, guards removed. The three of them made it to the throne room, as Blaise so charmingly dubbed it, in one piece. There'd been a scary moment when Blaise had lost his wand, but he'd repaired that by hitting the man in the face with his fist. Hermione had been stunned, but she supposed it was only fair. Right?
Draco and Blaise entered, Hermione in the rear. She was standing in the doorway, waiting.
The room was empty.
Eventually, Voldemort entered. He was laughing. Draco eyed Blaise warily, both men holding their wands out, watching Voldemort with the most intent of gazes. "Oh, Draco, you're so predictable." He grinned at them, flashing a smile. Hermione had to admit he was almost handsome. He'd changed a lot, that was for sure. But still… the thoughts of what he'd done to her still remained. She swallowed hard. "I'll be able to kill one of you before you kill me. You know this, yes?" His eyes were dead, so flat and dark. Hermione was suddenly glad that Blaise's were always laughing. It made him that much more real. "Which will it be, hm? Zabini?" Voldemort laughed again, his eyes hardening into glistening agates as he nodded slowly.
Hermione screamed then. The man that grabbed her from behind had scared the wits out of her. She hadn't seen him. He was wearing all black, his arm around her, a knife at her side.
Voldemort picked up a glass, taking a sip. "Knives, they're more sure than wands, you know." The man was dragging Hermione up to Voldemort's chair. Blaise and Draco watched, not knowing what to do. Hermione would die, she would. Draco wouldn't do that. He couldn't. Hermione came first. He knew that, now. "You took longer than I thought to do this, Malfoy. I'd thought for sure you'd try sooner. I could almost see you grinding your teeth at night, waiting." He paused for a second, eyeing Blaise. "But Zabini, I never guessed you for this… You know, Malfoy's as good as dead. That means I'll be in need of someone willing to be my cohort…" Voldemort let the words hang in the air.
Blaise swallowed, looking from Voldemort to Hermione. "On one condition."
Draco swore. That two-coated bastard. He should've guessed, he should've known.
Voldemort laughed more, this time bending at the waist, holding his stomach. "For her? For this piece of mudblood trash you'll turn on Malfoy?" He took another drink, looking to the man holding Hermione. Blaise's wand moved to Draco as Hermione was pushed over to Blaise. She was on the floor, having landed hard on her hip. She groaned softly, looking up from pain glazed eyes to Draco.
"Do it." She whispered, mouthing the words more than anything else. It hurt to breathe. Her and Draco's deaths would as least insure that someone other than Voldemort would be in charge… but did she really want to die and leave the wizard world with Blaise as a ruler? Now that was scary.
Draco looked to Blaise, hesitant. Blaise talked as he held his wand at Draco. His brows raised as he told him, his eyes dancing. "Remember, Draco. When we go into the fire, we have to breathe the smoke. Sometimes it kills you. Sometimes… sometimes it kills others." Draco stared at him, letting it sink in.
That two-toned bastard. He would kill him.
Then, he realized what Blaise was saying. Oh dear Merlin, have mercy on us all.
A/N: So here's chapter seven. After this, there's one more chapter. Don't worry, it's fairly long. Thank you everyone, for tagging along. I don't know what I'll spend all my spare time doing after this fic is done and up! I guess I just need to write another one, eh? Any requests on the pairing? Another DM/HG? Thanks - Sketchy