AUTHOR'S NOTE: Dear readers, thank you for your patience. Work took over my life for a bit but I'm back! It's been a while since I posted, so here's a quick story recap: Draco disguised Hermione as Dolohov to escape the tower. They arrived with the other Death Eaters at Inverness. At the end of the battle Harry is presumed dead but his body is missing. Hermione saves Draco from Moody and the Order. They disapparate but Voldemort's curse has altered their magic. And now to the story:
"Where is Draco?"
"I lost sight of him after the explosion—that blasted Bulgarian ship—"
"And Dolohov?"
"Missing too."
"Perhaps they got away…"
Bellatrix and Lucius were standing by Narcissa's bedside. It was near dawn. They had apparated back to the tower. Their clothes were torn and singed.
Lucius had searched the smoke-filled streets of Inverness for Draco, but his son had vanished amidst the screams and rubble of the burning city.
Narcissa slowly regained consciousness.
She tried to gather her bearings as Bellatrix told her that her only son was missing.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," said Lucius.
Yaxley walked into the room. "The Dark Lord wants a report of the living and the dead. He has arrived with Edevane at Greymoor. We are expected to join him."
"Fetch the Granger girl," Bellatrix commanded.
"She's gone," Yaxley said. "Her cell is empty."
Bellatrix froze. Her eyes bulged in their sockets.
"Search the grounds," she hissed. "She can't be far."
Yaxley stood rooted to the spot.
"Is there something else?"
"We have another problem. The latest reports—they say Potter's body is missing."
"Missing?" Bellatrix repeated, looking as though someone had punched her.
"The Magical Alliance has reported him dead but they claim no body was found."
"But he had no heartbeat!" Bellatrix cried.
She waved Yaxley away and paced the room, trying to formulate a plan.
She raised a finger at Lucius. "You must fetch Snape, the two of you must search for Potter—"
"No," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "Draco is missing as well. I must find him first—"
Bellatrix rounded on him. "You claim Draco disappeared with Dolohov? They fought together at the battle?"
"Yes," said Lucius through gritted teeth.
Bellatrix laughed at him. "A likely story." She shook her head. "Draco is alive. And he has the mudblood with him."
She paced around the room again, putting two and two together.
"He must have disguised her…and I can only imagine what he did to Dolohov." She laughed to herself. "It appears little Draco has a spine after all." She turned to her sister. "Where would he hide, Cissy? If he deserted…if the Dark Lord finds him before we do…"
"I—I don't know," Narcissa began.
"We must find him," said Bellatrix. "We must kill the mudblood! If the Dark Lord discovers his betrayal—"
"I will find Draco on my own," Lucius interrupted. "For now I will tell the Dark Lord he was captured by the allies—"
"And you think he will believe you?!" Bellatrix spat. "The Dark Lord has spies everywhere. He will learn the truth before you reach him." She walked closer to Lucius. "Your son has endangered us all. You no longer command my sister, and you most certainly do not command me. Go to Greymoor, spin your lies, but we shall make our own plans."
Lucius seized her arm, eager to put her in her place, but she only laughed at him.
"Are you going to strike me, Lucius?"
His jaw twitched, and his eyes narrowed. "You're not worth the effort."
He released her and fled the room.
"Cissy," Bellatrix said, rushing to her sister's bedside. "We must find Draco."
Narcissa shook her head.
"Where would he hide? You must know…"
"I can't," said Narcissa desperately. "I—"
Bellatrix seized her shoulders."If you remain silent, I will go to the Dark Lord myself. I will tell him of Draco's betrayal. I have worked too hard, for too long—"
"Bella please—"
"I WILL NOT GO BACK TO AZKABAN!" she shrieked.
"There's only one place I can think of," Narcissa said slowly. "It's the one place we'd always go…to escape…"
Bellatrix nodded eagerly, but Narcissa hesitated.
"The girl…Draco cares for her…he's cared for her since they were children…"
Bellatrix smiled, twisting her wand between her fingers. "She will die, Cissy, there is no question. Only a traitor would suggest that I spare her. Are you a traitor?"
Narcissa stared up at her sister. "Better a traitor than the Dark Lord's whore."
In one quick motion, Bellatrix lifted a dagger to Narcissa's neck. "Careful there, dear sister. It would be a shame to spill your blood…"
Narcissa looked at her, unafraid. "You would never do it. You enjoy poisoning me with your venom far too much."
Bellatrix grew impatient. "Would you prefer Draco to die in the mudblood's place?"
Narcissa swallowed. "Losing her will destroy him."
"He will survive," said Bellatrix bitterly. "As we all do when the things we love are ripped away." She smiled gleefully. "The mudblood will learn her place. And so will Draco. He will be punished when he returns home. I will see to it myself."
"Bella no—"
"Oh yes, Cissy. He will be punished, you will not prevent it. The mudblood's death shall only be the beginning…"
Narcissa's eyes were alight with fury.
Bellatrix stood.
"When you recover your strength we will find Draco and the girl. And you shall be the one to put an end to her, not I."
Narcissa stiffened. "What do you mean?"
Bellatrix smiled. "Yes, Cissy, you heard correctly. You'll be the one to kill her. You've made Draco weak. It is time to mend that error. You will teach your son a lesson he'll never forget."
Hermione was afraid to open her eyes. She didn't want to move. She didn't want to think.
She felt blades of glass underneath her hands. She heard the slight rustling of trees.
There was an awful feeling in her chest, a pressing weight that told her something terrible had happened.
If she moved, if she stood, then it would all become real.
Hermione opened her eyes. She had no idea where she'd apparated to. She raised her hand to her face, testing her fingers, then she looked down at the rest of her body. She had cuts and bruises everywhere.
Hermione reached for her wand, intent on healing herself, but her magic was weak.
Her heart began to beat impossibly fast…
She lay back on the grass, trying to steady herself.
She remembered the river, the dementors, the muggles dying around her…but then she was yanked away from it all…
Voldemort's curse had affected her and Draco somehow, she could feel her magic pulsing through her body in an unnatural rhythm, like it was fighting to stay connected to her.
Hermione lay on the grass, staring up at the sky, listening to her heart and its maddening beat.
Where was Draco?
Something had gone wrong when they'd disapparated. He could be anywhere…
Hermione forced herself to stand, and she searched through the trees and the fog that surrounded her.
She moved slowly, scanning the grounds.
A roaring silence pressed in on her ears.
What if he was injured…or dead?
Fear strangled her. She had no idea where she was, or what Voldemort's curse had done to her.
Then she heard a groan and the rustling of leaves.
"Draco?!" she shouted.
No answer.
"Lumos," she whispered.
She saw a flash of blonde hair, a pale face…
Draco was lying on the ground ten feet away, shaking and muttering to himself.
"Are you alright?!" Hermione asked, moving towards him.
She pushed past branches and foliage to reach him.
He looked at her, confused. "I…I don't know…"
He was coughing up blood.
Hemione sat next to him, thinking back to Voldemort's attack. The light from his curse hadn't touched them directly. They'd been under the shield the allies had conjured.
But maybe the curse was more powerful than they'd thought…
"We should rest," Draco said slowly. He looked delirious and weak. "Maybe if we sleep, we'll feel better…"
Hermione touched his forehead. He was burning up. Something told her that if she let him sleep, he might never wake up.
She saw lights in the distance.
"Where have you taken us?" Hermione asked. She shook him slightly. "Draco?"
"Glensbury," he whispered slowly.
"The old wizarding village? We're still in Scotland then?"
He nodded.
"We need to get help," Hermione said. "Can you stand?"
Draco shook his head. She threw his arm over her neck and helped him up.
He cried out in pain.
They stumbled forward, heading for the lights.
Hermione quickened her pace.
She needed to know if Harry had survived, the wizards in the town would have the latest reports from Inverness...
The fog was thick around them, and they had trouble finding the road.
When they finally reached it Draco yanked his sleeve down, intent on covering his Dark Mark.
"That pub there," Hermione said, pointing to a small brick building at the edge of town. "They'll tell me what's happened."
Draco nodded.
Hermione turned to him. "You'll be recognized. Wait here. I'll go in alone."
Before Draco could stop her, Hermione left his side and walked into the pub. As soon as she left, Draco doubled over in pain. He wanted to appear strong in front of Hermione, but he felt sicker than he'd ever felt in his life.
He reached for one of the lamp posts, trying to steady himself. It felt like the ground was tilting. There was a riot in his head…
He didn't know for how long he stood there.
Eventually, he heard a door slam.
Hermione had emerged from the pub.
She ran outside, falling into the dirt road. She was crying and screaming.
Draco rushed towards her.
"Hermione!"
He reached for her arm.
"Don't touch me!
"Hermione—"
"HE'S DEAD! HARRY'S DEAD!" She gasped for air. "And all because you set a trap—"
She hit Draco and he stumbled backwards.
Her voice choked and she began sobbing, forgetting that they were both injured, that striking him was only going to weaken her too.
Her nose began to bleed, and Draco's vision went white for several seconds. There was a ringing in his ears. He panicked, thinking he wouldn't be able to see again.
The curse had altered his body somehow. There was no denying it now…
The street came back into focus painfully. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw a man watching them on the opposite side of the street. He was wearing an emerald cloak and his hands were covered with scars.
"We need to stay out of sight," said Draco firmly, taking Hermione by the arm. "Voldemort has spies everywhere."
"Let me go or I'll scream," Hermione hissed. She looked back at the pub.
"You can't trust anyone," Draco whispered. "You don't know who's working for the Order and who's working for Voldemort."
"That's rich, coming from you!"
She tried to fight him, but he refused to let her go.
The man in the emerald cloak was still watching them.
Draco lowered his voice. "There's something wrong with us. We need to stay together until we're well again." He dragged Hermione forward. "I know where we can go."
They had walked for an eternity, then somewhere along the way Hermione had lost consciousness.
She guessed Draco had carried her.
When she woke up, she wasn't sure how much time had passed.
She looked around.
She was sitting on a marble floor, in a large room covered in paintings, and there were display cases everywhere.
A large sign above her read "Impressionist Exhibit."
She realized she was in a museum.
Draco was sitting next to her, trying to heal himself.
She had no idea why he'd brought her here.
On the floor Hermione saw blood replenishing potions, food and a small radio.
She was too tired to ask questions.
She reached for the radio and turned the dial to the wizarding wireless network.
The next few minutes were torture as she listened to report after report.
Some said Harry's body was lost at sea, dragged by a treacherous current, while others said he had risen from the dead, no longer wizard or human. Hermione would hear none of it. She stood and smashed the radio to pieces, watching it scatter across the marble floor.
"How will we know what's going on outside?!" Draco cried, furious with her.
Hermione could no longer entertain rumors or whispers. As far as she was concerned, Harry was dead, and to believe otherwise would only drive her mad.
She staggered sideways, and Draco caught her, whispering an apology for losing his temper.
Days passed.
Whenever they tried to do magic they grew weaker, and so they decided to stop using wands altogether.
Hermione drifted in and out of consciousness. She had nightmares and her voice grew hoarse from screaming. She had constant visions of Harry.
Every now and then Draco applied cold cloths to her forehead, trying to stop her fever. She felt her magic slipping away. She worried that Voldemort's curse had altered it permanently.
One night she forced herself to stay awake and she lay on one of the benches, staring out of the museum's glass windows. Heavy raindrops thrummed against the glass, and lightning flashed, illuminating the room.
Draco lay asleep on the marble floor, using his cloak as a pillow.
Hermione let her thoughts wander…
She'd promised Harry she'd return to Renwick Abbey. She needed to discover what was hidden there before the Death Eater's did. And for that she needed Ron…
But there was also Bellefaire Orphanage. There had to be some record of Catherine's daughter there—the woman in the blue cloak—Hermione was certain that she was the key. She had to be Voldemort's daughter…
She'd come so close to catching her at Inverness—but she had been distracted by Draco….
Draco…
Hermione's blood boiled with rage every time he came near her. She'd let him heal her and tend to her, but all the while she'd wanted to curse him.
She reminded herself that he was the reason that Harry was dead.
The Dark Mark on Draco's arm taunted her. The truth had always been there for her to see, and she had blinded herself to it.
Sometimes the pain from the curse had been too terrible to bear, and Hermione had let Draco hold her. But any comfort she'd found in his arms was ruined by the memory of what he'd done. Loving him had cost her Harry.
Hermione blamed herself for his death. Maybe if she'd reached him in time, she might've found a way to save him…
The thought haunted her.
Hermione watched Draco sleep. He would always remind her of what she'd lost. She had done what she could for him, stopped Moody and the Order from killing him. It was certainly more than he deserved. But she sensed nothing good would come from remaining at his side.
Flashes of lightning illuminate his white-blond hair. His fingers wrapped tightly around his wand. His muscular form was tense, weary of an attack, even in sleep.
Despite herself, Hermione remembered the nights she'd spent in Draco's arms…his lips fierce on hers, his heart pounding loudly against her own…
But he had only been using her, she thought bitterly. And he had been selfish with her.
Hermione's thoughts were interrupted as Draco mumbled something in his sleep. He was tossing and turning, probably trapped in some nightmare.
She brought her knees closer to her chest as she watched him.
She suspected his nightmares would plague him for the rest of his life.
Draco had recurring visions of the tower…he was back at the moat, holding Dolohov down as he fought and clawed against him in the water.
The scene changed and he was at Inverness, watching the muggles die around him in the river.
The dementors glided towards him and Hermione. Their grey, scabbed hands reached for them, tightening around their necks, choking them—
And then a vision of the future suddenly came to him, almost like a premonition. He saw himself in London, the sky was grey and clouded, smoke filled the streets, thousands of people were rushing towards a cloaked figure…a victor…standing in the middle of the chaos. But Draco was watching from somewhere high above the city.
He felt a chill.
In the vision, he didn't know if he was alive or dead.
Draco was jolted awake.
He jumped when he saw Hermione staring at him.
He swallowed.
She just sat there, saying nothing. After a few moments she pulled her cloak tighter around herself and closed her eyes.
Draco looked away from her.
There was no logic to their illness, on some days they'd been able to perform magic and on others none at all.
Draco decided that he would continue to care for Hermione as long as she let him.
He looked around the gallery. The museum was the only muggle establishment he had ever set foot in.
When his father had made life impossible at home, he and his mother would come here to escape—to Egypt, to Rome or wherever their fancy took them. His mother was one of the museum's most generous benefactor's, and they would spend hours wandering the galleries to look at the relics of the past.
Draco lay back, closing his eyes, trying to hold onto the memory of better days…this time falling into a dreamless sleep.
Hermione peered over at Draco.
An hour had passed.
She pocketed the wand he'd given her—Dolohov's wand.
She left her make-shift bed on the bench and approached him.
"Draco?" she whispered.
He didn't stir.
She wandered to the far end of the room, searching for an exit.
Many of the display cases were broken and shards of glass littered the marble floors.
Some of the windows were boarded up and others were completely shattered, letting the cold night air drift in, making her shiver.
She guessed the muggles had closed the museum in anticipation of attacks, but over time the place had fallen victim to looting.
Hermione knew the outside world was rife with danger but she could no longer remain here, locked away, while everyone else was fighting.
She walked down a long gallery, looking at the oil paintings that did not move, glanced at the sculptures and artifacts of days long gone by.
Hermione continued walking until she reached an arched entrance that led to another set of rooms. There was a sign in front of her that said "Egyptian Exhibit."
She walked under the arch and gasped.
There was a full-scale Egyptian temple in the center of the room. Its tall, imposing columns reached the ceiling. Upon closer inspection she saw that the base of the temple was carved with something. It was a depiction of Osiris, the God of the Dead.
Hermione looked up.
There was a glass ceiling directly above the temple, and a strip of moonlight illuminated the room with an unearthly glow.
Hermione walked around the structure, completely transfixed.
It sparked something in her memory.
It felt like a lifetime ago, when she'd flown with Draco from the Astronomy Tower to the lake at Hogwarts. He'd told her about Luxor, and its famous looking scope…the looking scope that gave wizards a glimpse of Lasthenia, the galaxy at the end of the universe.
Hermione touched the temple's columns, tracing the hieroglyphs with her fingers.
Would Draco ever make it there…to Luxor?
Something told her that he never would…
The thought sent a chill down her spine.
"Hermione?" said a voice.
She stopped dead.
She saw Draco's reflection on the marble floor.
She turned slowly to face him.
He was still half-asleep, but he eyed her suspiciously, his body tense.
Hermione swallowed. Her eyes flitted across the room, looking for anything she could use as a weapon.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked, seeing how she edged away from him.
"I must have been sleepwalking…" she said. "I didn't realize…"
They both walked around the temple, circling each other. Hermione caught glimpses of Draco's face through the columns—his expression told her he didn't believe her.
Better to let him think I won't put up a fight, she told herself.
She stopped walking.
Draco caught up to her and cautiously took her hand. "We should go back to sleep."
Hermione nodded at him.
Draco watched her closely as they walked, but she was careful to keep her expression neutral.
When they reached the arched entryway, she froze.
"I—I feel dizzy," she said.
"What's wrong?"
She clutched at Draco's robe. "I—I don't know…just hold me for a second."
She had to keep talking, anything to distract him…
Draco embraced her, and Hermione looked over his shoulder.
Her gaze landed on one of the broken display cases. She was standing directly in front of it. There was a large vase inside…
She extended her hand…
Draco was talking, promising she'd be safe at his side…
Hermione sifted through the broken case in front of her, nearly cutting herself with the glass.
Just as her hand closed over the vase, Draco kissed her.
She let him, knowing it was only a matter of time now…
Draco deepened the kiss, and she threaded her fingers through his hair with her free hand, letting him think she wanted more.
The taste of him made her remember things she'd vowed to forget—their nights aboard the Dragomir, the two of them lying naked together on the beach in Étretat…
She pushed the memories away, determined to stay in the present.
Their lips parted and Draco whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything, Hermione…"
Sorry. As though that would fix everything. As though he could ever make it better.
"I know," she said.
Draco lifted his eyes to look at her.
Before he registered what was happening, he saw a flash of silver, then there was a loud SMACK and the room tilted sideways. He landed on the floor with a crash.
Hermione looked down at him, and let the vase fall. It smashed to pieces against the marble floor.
Draco stared up at her, his eyes wide with shock.
Hermione ran.
She streaked past the galleries, down a set of stairs and into another room.
Her heart was racing.
Only seconds later she heard Draco's footsteps echoing behind her…
"Hermione, wait!"
Tapestries, paintings, broken glass, chairs…she ran past all of them, stumbling and knocking things over.
Draco's footsteps grew louder…
Hermione saw another set of rooms.
She turned left then right again.
She panicked, knowing she had to find a way to the lower levels, but there was no staircase in sight.
She was about to turn a corner when someone slammed her into the wall.
"What are you playing at?!" Draco shouted.
Hermione tried to twist free, panic rising in her chest. "Let me go!"
"It's not safe outside, you know that."
Hermione struggled against him. "It's not safe with you either!"
Draco shook his head. "I don't want you dead!"
"And if Voldemort tells you to kill me?!" she screamed, hitting him with her fists. "What will you do then?"
He stared at her, at a loss for words, then his jaw tightened. "I won't let him find you."
Hermione laughed. "And if he does?" She looked at him bitterly. "What if your own neck was on the line…or your mother's? Would you protect me then?"
"Hermione—"
"ANSWER ME!"
"I had to give him Harry, but not you! Never you—"
"LET ME GO!" she screamed.
Draco shook her. "Listen to me. I didn't want to give them Potter, but I did what I had to do. I was trying to keep my family alive—"
"THEIR LIVES WEREN'T WORTH MORE THAN HARRY'S!"
Hermione was shaking uncontrollably. "HE WAS BETTER THAN ALL OF YOU PUT TOGETHER!"
Draco stood stock still.
There it was. The truth laid open between them.
Hermione's eyes were bulging, her chest was rising and falling with long-suppressed rage.
"I don't expect you to forgive me," Draco said, his voice low. "But you can't leave, not until you're healed."
"I'm well enough."
"You're not—"
"And what about Dolohov?" Hermione asked, looking down at the wand in her hand like it would burn her. She thought back to the tower. She remembered the red welt on Malfoy's arm. "You killed him."
Draco took a harsh breath. "Do you think I wanted to kill him? Do you think that was easy for me? It was his life or yours."
Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "I didn't ask you to—"
"You didn't have to. I did what needed to be done. I won't apologize for keeping you alive, Hermione."
She swallowed back tears. "How many others have you killed?"
Draco breathed in deeply. "Dolohov was the first…but he won't be the last, not while I'm working for Voldemort.
"And you're prepared to kill again?" Hermione asked. "Over and over until you—"
"I'll do what I have to," he said impatiently. "To keep my mother alive."
"Your mother made her choices, Draco, same as your father. Now you'll have to live with yours." Hermione stood to her full height. "Let me pass."
"Like I said before, I can't let you go until you're healed."
Hermione lifted her wand, feeling her magic flow through her veins more freely than it had in the past few days. She knew she might fall ill again, but she was prepared to take the chance. "Get out of my way."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Hermione moved, but Draco cornered her again.
She struggled against him. "I'm not afraid of you!"
"I don't want you to be!" Draco gripped her arms. "Answer me one thing…"
Hermione screamed, frustrated that she couldn't get away.
"Why did you stop Moody from killing me?"
Hermione's mouth opened and closed.
Draco pressed his lips to her ear. "Why do you tremble every time I touch you?"
She hated him, hated him for cornering her this way.
"Why won't you say it?" he asked. "Just once, why won't you tell me how you really feel?"
Hermione said nothing, frozen in his grasp.
"All those times you made love to me, were you just trying to forget the war, or was it me you wanted?"
Hermione struggled against him a third time, desperate to break free.
"If I kiss you now, touch you now, do you feel nothing?"
He pressed his lips to her neck, and she closed her eyes, shaking.
His fingers dug into her flesh. "Answer me, Hermione."
She breathed in deeply, willing her voice not to break. "Of course it was always you I wanted."
Draco sighed into her ear, pressing his body closer to hers.
Hermione turned away from him. "But I don't want to feel this way anymore. I don't want to be in love with you."
The air left Draco's lungs.
There was a hollow look in Hermione's eyes. "You would do it all over again wouldn't you?" she asked. Hand Harry over to Voldemort? To save your family?"
Draco hated himself. "Yes," he said simply.
Hermione's chin trembled and she looked away. "I can't stay here. I—"
She froze. Music started playing in the gallery across from them.
She walked in search of the sound.
A haunting tune played, an old melody from another time.
Draco followed her.
Hermione made her way to the next gallery, registering that she was standing in a room lined with tall Roman statues.
The music was playing from one of the loudspeakers.
Moonlight was streaming in from the glass ceiling.
Draco walked in behind her. His lips brushed her ear. "Do one thing for me before you go?"
Hermione turned to face him. "What?"
"Dance with me?"
She looked at him like he'd gone mad.
"We never got a chance to before…at the Yule Ball or at Sebastian's masque…" Draco took her hand. "Let's pretend we've only just met." He looked up at the statues. "There's no war, no secrets, only us…"
Hermione shook her head. "I don't want to pretend. You've done enough pretending for the both of us."
"Please…Hermione…"
He wrapped his arms around her waist.
She rested her head against his, feeling lonelier than she'd ever felt in her life.
They moved across the marble floor. Hermione wanted to hate him, but she only felt pain. Her feelings for Draco were greater than her, and they rose to the surface no matter how hard she tried to push them down. And despite everything, she didn't want him to die.
Before she could stop herself she whispered into his ear.
"Come with me," she said.
Draco swallowed. It was the last thing he'd expected her to say.
She saw the hopeful look in his eyes and was quick to correct him. "I don't mean for us to be together, but maybe you can start over." She took his hand. "You can make a difference. You can help the Order. You can choose. But you have to let go of your name and the weight that it brings. Come with me."
Draco felt like he couldn't breathe. She was the only girl that made him feel alive. It had always been her he thought of, all those years at Hogwarts, no matter who he was with, or what he was doing…
But he had to let her go.
"I can't."
Hermione looked at him with a mixture of shock and fury in her eyes.
She let go of his hand and watched it fall limply to his side.
She turned to go, but at that moment the window next to her shattered.
Hermione screamed.
Draco seized her shoulders and spun her out of the way.
Glass flew everywhere.
Two figures landed in the middle of the floor.
There was the sound of shrill laughter.
Hermione's blood ran cold as she locked eyes with Bellatrix Lestrange.
Narcissa Malfoy stood beside her sister, looking at Draco apprehensively. The color had returned to her face, but she still looked too thin, a ghost of the woman she'd been before the war.
Draco pulled Hermione behind him, backing away from them.
"Draco dearest…" Bellatrix began. She looked at Hermione. "This girl will get you killed…"
Draco said nothing. He gripped his wand tightly, adrenaline rushing through his veins.
"It's time to go home, Draco," Bellatrix continued. "If the Dark Lord discovers you've waited this long to return to him…"
"You don't command me, Aunt Bella," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
She ignored him. "All eyes are on London now, Draco. The Dark Lord will deliver a final, decisive blow to weaken the Magical Alliance and the Order. If he wins, his power will be absolute. We must be at his side when that happens."
Malfoy tried not to flinch as she stepped closer to him.
"Remember what I've always told you…survive, no matter the cost. That is what it means to be a Malfoy, and a Black."
Draco looked at her coldly. "You think your name will save you? It won't save any of us. Voldemort uses our wealth to support his army. When he drains us of everything we have, we'll no longer be useful to him. That includes you."
"Very well, Draco, best to end the mudblood's life now, and erase all evidence of your treachery." Bellatrix smiled cruelly. "Move aside."
Draco locked eyes with his mother, pleading her to help him.
"Move aside!" Bellatrix commanded.
Narcissa stepped forward. "Your magic is weak, Draco, you cannot fight. Apparate to Greymoor and leave us with the girl."
Draco stared at her in shock.
"No Cissy!" Bellatrix objected, feigning mock concern. "He must watch! How else will he learn?" She raised her wand. "Incarcerous!"
Before Draco could react he was hit by a jet of red light. Ropes tied themselves around his body and he collapsed to the floor.
Hermione backed away as Bellatrix rushed at Draco, clutching his shoulders. "You have been foolish, little serpent, but now you will learn." She forced him to sit, turning his head in Hermione's direction. "You will regret the day you let a mudblood into your heart."
Narcissa stepped forward, her eyes fixed on Hermione.
"NO!" Draco screamed.
"Help us, please," Hermione begged Narcissa. "The Order can protect you. I'll make sure—"
Bellatrix laughed and mimicked Hermione's voice. "The Order can protect you. Kill her Cissy!"
"DON'T TOUCH HER!" Draco shouted. "LET ME GO!"
Bellatrix whispered into Draco's ear. "Your mother will make things right, Draco. You must let her make things right…"
"It will be quick," Narcissa said, her voice shaking. "She won't feel any pain."
She lifted her wand again.
Hermione raised her own wand, her heart thundering in her chest. She knew she wasn't strong enough to duel.
"Please!" shouted Draco. "Please, let her go! Mother please—"
Narcissa hesitated.
Bellatrix pressed her wand to the base of Draco's neck, then she dragged a line across his skin and beads of blood began to form. "The mudblood or your son, Cissy. You decide."
"DON'T LISTEN TO HER!" Malfoy shouted.
Narcissa raised her wand again.
Hermione felt magic pulse through her veins. She had enough strength to perform one spell, just one, but she had to make it count…
She raised her wand, her eyes on the statue behind Narcissa. "Bombarda maxima!"
The base of the statue exploded.
Narcissa rushed to move out of the way, dropping her wand just as the head of the statue fell to the floor, snapping it in half.
Hermione raced out of the room.
"Cissy quick!" Bellatrix shouted.
She tossed Narcissa her dagger.
Draco watched it fly through the air.
Narcissa caught the weapon between her slim fingers.
"CATCH HER!" Bellatrix shouted.
"Mother, no—"
"Kill her Cissy! She will ruin us all!"
Narcissa chased after Hermione, disappearing down the gallery.
Malfoy struggled against Bellatrix, trying to break free.
Hermione ran down the halls, stumbling and falling. Her nose was bleeding, her head spinning…
She opened doors and ran down stairs, never stopping or turning to look behind her.
She raced past a balcony, and her heart gave a jolt when she saw the lobby below. If she could just make it down there, she could find a way out…
She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, streaking past exhibit after exhibit, trying to find a way down…but the place was like a maze…
She could hear Malfoy and Bellatrix dueling somewhere far away. He must have broken free…
She heard someone move swiftly behind her.
There was a hand in her hair, yanking her back.
Hermione screamed, struggling to break free, and her heart froze when she saw the dagger in Narcissa's hand.
"Don't!" Hermione cried, as Narcissa lunged at her.
Their feet slid.
Hermione had a split second to register what was happening before the ground disappeared from under them.
They fell head first, tumbling down a set of stairs…
The world was spinning…the ceiling was below them…the marble lobby above.
Wisps of Narcissa's blonde hair flew into Hermione's eyes.
She didn't know which way was up or down…
The dagger was somewhere between them…
Hermione's back slammed into the marble steps with violent force over and over again…
Narcissa's delicate features were distorted, her eyes wild…her cloak fell over Hermione's face, blinding her.
They heard blasts and screams from somewhere above them.
With a final slam, Hermione hit the lobby floor.
She cried out in pain as Narcissa landed on top of her.
Narcissa's eyes were wide and frightened. She looked down. Blood was blossoming on her robes. The dagger was lodged firmly inside her chest.
She had run herself through with it.
Hermione didn't dare move, but then Narcissa's head fell against her shoulder.
Hermione turned her over carefully.
She placed her hand on the dagger, prepared to remove it—
"CISSY!" Bellatrix screamed. She and Draco had arrived at the top of the staircase.
Bellatrix staggered for balance and she sank to the floor in shock, gripping the banister, as Draco flew down the steps.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" he shouted.
Hermione's hand was still on the knife…
He must think…no…
He rushed to Narcissa's side, pushing Hermione out of the way. "Mother! Answer me!"
Narcissa didn't move.
Several minutes passed.
Hermione feared the dagger had pierced her heart. If that was the case…
Draco tried to shake his mother awake over and over again but she wouldn't stir. He finally raised his hand to her neck, trying to feel for a pulse.
"Dr-draco…I'm sorry…" Hermione said.
Draco's eyes turned to her, cold as steel. "She's dead."
Above them, Bellatrix shouted.
"KILL THE MUDBLOOD, DRACO!"
Hermione stood, backing away from him. "Draco…don't listen to her…"
His eyes filled with tears. "You could have stunned her, anything but this!"
"It's not what you think—"
"ENOUGH!" he shouted, rising up to meet her.
His entire body was shaking. He pressed his wand to her throat. "You wanted to hurt me the way I hurt you."
Hermione's eyes widened. "No, of course not!"
He seized her shoulders and backed her into the wall. "Stop lying to me…"
Hermione swallowed.
Only minutes ago they'd been dancing under the moonlight, and now she was here, with Draco's wand at her throat, and his mother dead at their feet.
"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!" Bellatrix shouted. "KILL HER!"
There was no trace of love in Draco's eyes. Only rage.
Tears ran down Hermione's face. "Draco, please listen to me—"
He raised his fists and slammed the wall above her head over and over again, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Hermione felt her chest constrict. She couldn't breathe. He wanted to hurt her. She could feel his desire to do it. She shut her eyes, bracing herself—
She heard him scream. There was a rushing sound, then a loud blast.
Her eyes flew open. Draco's wand was pointed at Bellatrix.
The dark-haired witch crumpled to the floor.
Hermione stared at him in shock.
"GO!" he shouted.
"I—"
"GET OUT! I WON'T SPARE YOUR LIFE AGAIN!"
Draco knelt beside his mother.
"It was an accident," Hermione said. "I didn't—"
Draco looked up at her. Spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed at her. "STOP DENYING IT!"
Hermione stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. "What about Bellatrix? Is she—"
"I obliviated her," Draco said. "But not before she called the others."
"Called the others, what do you mean?"
"Her Dark Mark, Hermione. She pressed her wand to the mark to signal the others. They're coming, and so is Voldemort..."
Draco stood up, gripping her arm. "He'll look into my mind, he'll know you did this. He'll know I helped you escape from the tower."
Hermione stared at him in shock.
"DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?! I WON'T BE ABLE TO PROTECT YOU!"
Hermione backed away from him. Her legs were shaking. "But—he'll kill you—"
"THERE'S NO TIME!" Draco shouted. "GO!"
Hermione ran towards the set of double doors and flung them open.
An icy blast of wind pushed her back.
She stumbled for balance, turning to look at Draco a final time.
She fought back tears as she crossed the threshold and disappeared into the night.
Draco sank to his knees, burying his head in his hands.
Hot tears streamed down his face as he rocked his mother in his arms. This was never supposed to happen…
He looked down at his Dark Mark. He'd never wanted this, any of this…
Figures started apparating around him. They were shouting, but Draco couldn't hear them. Someone tried to drag him away from Narcissa, but he shoved them back.
And then in the middle of the chaos, he saw a tall figure approach, a figure he knew all too well.
Voldemort spoke to him in his high, cold voice and then everything went black.