Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.

Also this is a short chapter. Why? Well this one has a lot of action all right at once, so if I continued with it everything would have been jumbled together.
I hope you enjoy though. I have kept y'all waiting long enough.

As another month went by, Hermione listened for any news from the ministry or Viktor. Nothing came though. No one barged through the door to rescue her, no ministry officials were sent to investigate. Nothing. But it wasn't like she was eager for them. Quite the contrary, she was nervous and scared. She didn't know what living was like anymore, and when they did come to get her, she would have to live again. And then there was Draco.

"There you are," Draco said as he exited the manor and entered the sitting area outside.

He crossed over to the table Hermione was sitting at and took a seat next to her. There was rare smile plastered upon his lips as he took her hand, "I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

Draco nodded, "I thought today I would take you somewhere."

Hermione tilted her head slightly and shook her head. She didn't understand where he was going with this proposal.

He continued, "I thought we would have lunch at a restaurant in Knockturn alley. I know you haven't been out, and I thought on a nice day like this we could enjoy each others company and get out for awhile."

"Are you insane?"

Draco paused for a moment, "Don't you want to go back to Diagon Alley? I know you hate being cooped up in here."

She didn't believe what was coming out of his mouth. He wanted to take her out. Out back into the world. She didn't understand. She fiddled around with a leaf that had fell on the table, "Yes, I would like to go very much. But –"

"But what?" He questioned.

She shrugged, "Nothing. I'll just go and get ready."

"No need for that, Hermione," A smirk etched itself upon his lips, "You're not as clever as you think. No one will see what you look like. You'll drink a polyjuice potion before we leave."

And there it was, the other part of his offer. It was better than not ever getting to see her world again though, so she agreed. But her brain started to work, and an idea came to mind.

"Draco, I must take a shower though. So I'll go take one before we leave. Just get things together."

He raised a curious brow, "Well, alright that's fine I suppose."

"Thank you. I'll be down and ready in an hour."

She stood up and started off towards the house, leaving Draco to stare after her. They both knew each other very well by now. Hermione knew that they wouldn't be going if there weren't going to be deatheaters all around guarding her and making sure she didn't run away, which is why she didn't go immediately to her bedroom, but instead to Draco's study. She rummaged around and finally found a spare piece of parchment and a quill, and just like Draco did before she wrote a message to Viktor.

He's taking me to Knockturn alley. Get the ministry.

The message didn't make much since. Hardly any at all, but Hermione was hoping that Viktor was smart enough to understand what she meant. After she sealed it up and tied it with some string she left the study and started off down the halls. She searched frantically for a house elf and finally came upon one cleaning dusty pictures that were lined along the walls.

"I need you to do something for me," Hermione whispered.

Knob nodded his head.

"Please send this to Viktor Krum, no questions asked and don't tell anyone. Can you do this for me?"

Knob took the letter from her hand and nodded once again.

"Thank you."

Hermione watched as he took another flight of stairs to where the owls were kept. And suddenly she felt a wave of relief and guilt wash over her. She cupped her face in her hands and took a couple of deep breaths to calm down. And within a few minutes she was off to her bathroom to freshen up.

-

"Now take this," Draco ordered as he handed over the vile.

Hermione took a good long look at it. She saw the little hair inside of it and cringed. It could've been anyone's hair. She dared to ask though.
"Who will I be morphing into tonight?"

Draco smirked, "Someone less attractive than yourself."

"I asked who."

"Just drink it."

Hermione put the vile to her lips and cringed as the once familiar tasted lingered in her mouth. She dropped the vile and clenched her stomach as her body started changing. Her shoulders got broader, her hips disappeared, her hair went from a caramel color to a dark brown and was no longer curly. She touched her face as very sharp features started to appear, and then she knew who she was.

Pansy Parkinson.

"It's repulsive that I have to do this," She hissed.

Draco linked their elbows together and started off towards the library, "This time we're going by floo powder. The ministry wouldn't give me another portkey, so now we're left with the less dignified way."

She started to remember Molly Weasley when he started on about floo powder and a frown came to her lips. Her time for avenging their deaths would come.

They entered the library and immediately made their way to the fire place. Draco took a bag from his pocked and took his arm away from Hermione's. He opened it with great care, and directed Hermione to step into the fireplace. When she was in, he followed after her.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

Draco took the floo powder from the bag and threw it on the ground, "Knockturn Alley!"

Before Hermione opened her eyes she could hear it. People. Chattering, and laughing. A slow, but sad smile etched itself upon her lips as she opened her eyes. And there she stood, inside his favorite restaurant amongst other people.

She wanted to scream, to get away, but if she did she'd never get out alive.

It was a waiting game.

"Ah, here we are. Two of my favorite customers. Welcome, welcome!" The owner of the restaurant, Zachariah Gesh. He ushered them in and sat Draco at his table in the back. That's all Draco wanted was privacy, and Zachariah always fulfilled his wishes.
It was a dark place. The walls were a chocolate brown, illuminated by candle-lit chandeliers. The table cloths were the color of the darkest blood, but somehow it was one of the more Romantic restaurants in the wizarding world.

He stood in front of the table with his hands folded behind his back and looked at Hermione first, "For you Ms. Parkinson, what would you like to drink?"

"Just water please."

He nodded, "And you Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco looked over the menu, before looking up, "The usual."

"Very well."

Draco turned his attention to Hermione, who was nervously fiddling with the napkin in front of her, "What's on your mind?"

"What?" She didn't look up, "I- well I. I just am nervous to be here."

"Why? Hermione you spent your life here."

"Exactly."

Draco knew something was wrong with her. What exactly it was he couldn't put his finger on it. He reached across the table placed his hand on top of hers, "Listen to me. You're fine. I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

Hermione looked up and wanted to just laugh in his face. He had no idea. But at the same time her stomach was doing summersaults.

She ate like there was no tomorrow, for there might not be a tomorrow for her. All the foods she had missed eventually went down her throat. But not once did she ask for any kind of alcohol. She had to be in her right mind for the rest of the evening.

Draco smirked as he watched her eat. He finally had her. After everything they had been through, she had said the three words he wanted most to hear. He had told them his time would come, and now it was here. Soon he would start the raids, and she'd watch by his side without a word said.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked absently.

She nodded.

"Good. Maybe tonight you can give me something in return."

Hermione put her fork down and pursed her lips together to spit water in his face, but she couldn't. It would ruin it. She swallowed, and tilted her head to the side. And it was amazing her voice didn't give away what her feelings were, "Maybe…"

It was repulsive.

He got the answer he wanted and said nothing more.

Hermione started to think that Viktor hadn't got the letter. Maybe the ministry didn't believe him, what if he didn't care? She felt lightheaded. As she stared at Draco her eyes started to get blurry, and it was unusually warm. Draco watched her curiously as she began to look pale.

"Pansy…" Draco hissed.

Hermione couldn't breathe. Was this the end? Would she spend her entire life in hell? The thought was unbearable. She started to rise from her seat, and Draco jumped out of his, knocking it over to get to her.

"Let's get out of here, alright?" he said while taking her hand and leaving a galleon and a few sickles at the table, and as the people watched as he escorted the dark haired woman out it came:

Her liberation.

Ministry officials one by one stood up and at the door the minister, a few other ministry workers, and Viktor Krum waited.

Draco wasn't sure of what to do. His mind was in a frenzy, but he was always cool under pressure. Why not now? He grabbed her wrist and brought her towards him tightly. He could have wrung her neck, or was it coincidence? He wasn't going to force himself to believe that she did it.

"Krum," Draco scowled pulling out his wand, while keeping Hermione clenched to him.

"Hand her over, Malfoy," The Minister hissed as he stepped closer to the pair.

Hermione closed her eyes as Draco practically strangled her. Her air was running out, and she couldn't feel parts of her body. And was Draco talking? She could only hear faint mumbling far off in her mind. She did feel Draco's wand close by her cheek and even though she was in a vulnerable situation something came over her. Her body went limp all over, and she knew she was no longer thinking logically, but she felt safe. Whether it was that Draco would have never let anyone kill her but himself, or that she might finally get out, she felt safe. There was something more though. She felt the same vulnerability that Harry, Ron, her parents, Ginny, her unborn child, she felt the vulnerability that they felt. She was weak. No longer could she fight, no longer could she go on living knowing what happened, she couldn't get the imagoes out of her mind, each one was spilling in faster and faster. Awful images – terrible, appalling images:

Everyone went stiff as she screamed her lungs out. The sound piercing their ears.

She kept screaming, she couldn't stop even if she forced herself. And as Draco let her go, they took his vulnerable moment and had their chance. Just like when he took her loved ones vulnerability.

About four different wands shot the same spell, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Being hit by the same spell more than once he could feel his joints stiffening as he fell to the floor, wand flying and caught by one of the ministry officials. As soon as Draco hit the ground, the Deatheaters entered.

Draco fell to the ground with Hermione staring down at him like a deer in headlights.

She stood there, motionless, staring at him while spells were casted, people falling and running around her. Sides didn't matter anymore. Everyone was everywhere. From behind her, Marcus came and tried to taker her away, but was quickly hit by one of the officials spells and he too fell. But she had been through madness once before, so she wasn't scared. How could she be scared after what had happened to her? The chaos. The terror. All of it was replaying back in her mind as this went on.

All of this caused by a selfish man.

"You betrayed me," He mouthed, his words not audible to her.

Hermione nodded, "Because I hate you."

Before she saw his reaction one of the ministry officials had her in his arms and he used a portkey to transport her out of there. Hermione was wailing and screaming in his arms. What for? She was being rescued right? Why was she falling apart now? Why was she realizing everything at this very moment? Why did she now understand that she would never see Harry again? Or hold her baby in her arms? The last thing she remembered seeing was the man's face above her legs gave out beneath her and things went black.

Authors Notes: The ending is almost here!