Chapter 51 - The Many Faces of Death
Draco was woken up suddenly and rather painfully, the aftereffects of a stinging hex making themselves known around his left shoulder. Draco hissed in pain as he sat up, disoriented for a moment until he realized where he was—the infirmary. But wait...what the hell had happened? He remembered taking hold of the Hufflepuff Cup and holding it steady while Luna prepared to destroy it with the sheath...and then there was nothing but pain until...
He must've blacked out and been moved here, Draco concluded. But that still didn't explain how long he had been unconscious for, or, better yet, why he was woken up by a stinging hex of all things. Unless, of course, the death eaters had made it into Hogwarts, but why would they attack him if that was the case? Wasn't he the Dark Lord's own "Chosen One" as far as they were concerned?
In any case, Draco had his hand clutched around his wand in a flash of pure instinct, and almost could have blown the head off his attacker if only he didn't recognize who it was.
Madam Pomfrey?!
"It's time to go now, Mr. Malfoy," the elderly witch said, tugging on his arm. Her eyes were wide with fear and determination, though Draco couldn't place either emotion for a moment.
"What's—"
But the roar of a dragon overhead, far too close for comfort, answered that question for him. In a breath, its tail swung towards the castle and tore off the far end of the infirmary wing. Draco and Madam Pomfrey were only a few feet away from the impact—any closer and they would have been swept away, likely to fall to their deaths if they weren't dead on impact.
Struggling out of the sheets that had been wrapped around him, Draco followed the older witch towards the infirmary entrance, sprinting as fast as he could. Unfortunately, this wasn't very fast and was more of a limp, as he was still under the effects of the potion that had been used to keep him under while Madam Pomfrey tended to his injuries. Belatedly, Draco noticed that his hands were wrapped in thin bandages, but they felt perfectly fine compared to the mind-numbing pain of before. Well, that was one problem solved, at least, but a dragon attacking was slightly more of a concern at this point.
Both Madam Pomfrey and Draco managed to make it back to the hallway before the dragon attacked again, swinging its tail and destroying what remained of the infirmary. From elsewhere, they both heard another dragon roaring, following by more sounds of general destruction.
Merlin, what the hell had happened to escalate the attacks in such a way? Was it that Voldemort realized that they had destroyed another horcrux? Draco had no idea how much time had passed since then, but it seemed logical.
And now the Dark Lord was angrier than ever, and out for revenge.
"Where's Hemione? And the others? Did they bring me here?" Draco asked, as soon as he could catch his breath.
Madam Pomfrey let out a shaky breath as well, gulping down a potion that Draco suspected was to handle her nerves. "It was only Miss Granger who brought you to me," she explained. "She left soon after, I believe to help Mr. Potter and their friends. The rest of them came in briefly to check on you later, only Miss Granger wasn't present with them then, and—"
"What? Where was she? Hadn't she met up with them? Did they say anything?!" Draco was already pacing away from the older witch and heading downstairs, forcing her to follow in his wake. She's brought along a large satchel with her and looked uncharacteristically grim—no doubt she could guess what awaited her below, only it was no longer safe to linger on the upper levels of the castle. With dragons attacking from overhead, the dungeons may well be the safest place right now, though Draco wasn't interested in safety.
All he cared about was finding Hermione and making sure that she was alright, that she was—
She's not dead. It would take more than this to—
"None of them mentioned seeing her, but I thought it odd that Miss Granger wasn't with them. They must have not met with her—Mr. Weasley seemed especially worried and headed out as soon as she saw that she wasn't in the infirmary."
Admittedly, and bad of him as it was, Draco couldn't care less what happened to Weasley. Even if it was Harry himself, who was the Dark Lord's primary target, Draco wouldn't have cared at this point. Heck, he didn't even care about himself. All he wanted and needed to know was where Hermione was, and that she was safe.
Please, God, Merlin, whatever, don't let anything have happened to her!
He couldn't entertain thoughts of what he would do if something did happen to her. All Draco Malfoy knew then and there, as he paced towards the heart of the battle taking place between the death eaters and wizards of Hogwarts outside and around Hogwarts, was that he had to reach her side, no matter what.
As to Hermione's whereabouts, after she had raced back up to the second floor from the dungeon, rather miraculously not encountering any death eaters along the way, she was successfully able to retrieve her wand from where she had last left it. Though the situation around her was still as dangerous as could be, it gave Hermione a sense of calm and purpose to have the wand with her again. At least now she wasn't entirely powerless as she had been in Greyback's hands, and now she was also armed with new information that may potentially turn the tides of battle.
Because if Snape, the most trusted Death Eater of them all, was really on their side, then they just might have a chance to end this once and for all.
Nagini was the last horcrux. After her, it was only Voldemort himself who they had to destroy.
For once though, Hermione had no particular plan in mind, though her thoughts raced from one idea to the next on what could be done. They still had the sheath, so they had a way of destroying horcruxes, only Nagini was always in Voldemort's sight, so she would be the hardest horcrux to reach. Much as Hermione hated to admit it, the only thing she could think to do was draw Voldemort out in some way, but the only guaranteed way of doing that would be to put Harry as the bait, and Hermione wasn't willing to do that for any reason.
It would be Harry who had to kill Voldemort to fulfill the prophecy, but right now it was as though Voldemort had two lives instead of one, so Nagini had to be dealt with first.
Heading back first to the scene of the battle where she had last been forced to leave Harry and the rest of their friends, Hermione concluded that they must have made it out okay, seeing as the only corpses laying about were those of the death eaters who had attacked them. That was a good sign, only where were her friends now? Until Hermione found them, she couldn't be sure what had to be done.
Could they have gone down to the Great Hall, she wondered. That was where most of their friends and allies were right now, after all, or defending the perimeters of the castle. In any case, Hermione had to go out and help rather than wait around here, wasting time.
With a flash of inspiration, she summoned her patronus, though it took some doing because she was anything but happy right now. She sent it to Harry, asking where he was, and was shocked to find that he and Ron had actually separated from the main group and were heading for the Shrieking Shack. Apparently, they had heard a few death eaters talking about it when they crossed paths with them, but the friends had stayed hidden rather than engage them in battle, as they were outnumbered and, after their last confrontation with Greyback's group, tired out for the moment to be at their best.
"We know it might be a trap, but at this point we need to start taking chances," Harry's stag explained. "The snake's with him, Hermione, and we brought the sheath with us. Luna and Neville are going to try and get the sword, assuming it's still in Dumbledore's office. If you can get here, we'll wait for you at the Weeping Willow. It should give us cover enough for that. Where are you right now, anyway? We didn't see you in the infirmary with Draco."
Hermione summoned up her patronus as she sprinted out the nearest back way, taking less-used routes in order to get to the back grounds of the castle. Thank goodness for her encyclopedic knowledge of the castle layout, otherwise there was no way that she could have avoided conflict if she had taken the most direct route to the willow.
"It's too long a story to get into all that now, Harry, but I'm on my way. Don't go in there without me!"
And though she herself was fairly tired as well, Hermione nevertheless urged herself to keep moving, her heart pounding and her breath short with every step.
But if this was to be it—and it was their best chance to have a shot at Nagini if they got Voldemort alone—then she needed to be alongside her friends.
It was only as she skidded outside, thinking that she was alone, that she felt panicked though, as her gaze went up to where the infirmary wing should have been, but now just...wasn't.
"Merlin...no...!"
That was all she managed to say before a hex hit her from behind, knocking her to the ground and binding her in the process. Hermione struggled to undo the binds with her wand, but suddenly it was whisked out of her hand and she was met with a steel-toed boot aimed at her head. Hermione cried out at the impact, rolling away to avoid another hit, but then a hand snaked out and caught hold of her hair.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" cackled and all-too familiar and more-then-insane-sounding voice.
Neither those on the side of the order nor the death eaters paid any attention to Draco as he strode into the Great Hall, each side assuming that he was fighting for them. He saw a few confused glances of his classmates and some lesser death eaters at why he wasn't attacking anyone, but Draco wasn't about to engage with either side unless someone attacked him first—and even then, only for self-defense.
He'd split up from Madam Pomfrey earlier on, as she went to tend to the injured students and teachers alike. From what Draco could see as he'd wandered the castle on his current route, that wasn't an insignificant number of people. Some, he would remember much later on, had only been first and second-year students.
Now in the center of battle though himself strangely untouched, he looked around, seeking Hermione, Harry, or really anyone who had been in their group earlier on and could tell him what the hell had happened. Unfortunately, none of them were present, and the only people who Draco did see who might have answers were the Weasleys—specifically, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny Weasley.
Wand drawn, Draco strode their way.
Both women shot spells at him as they saw him approach, which Draco deflected easily Molly Weasley looked ready to cast another spell, but Ginny, who had caught on to the fact that he wasn't shooting spells back at them, placed a restraining hand on her mother's arm, though her expression and stance were still guarded.
"Do you know where Harry or Hermione are?" Draco asked, not about to waste time explaining himself.
Ginny narrowed her eyes, even as Mrs. Weasley looked ready to attack him again, never mind that he was a student no older than her youngest son.
"They're not here, Malfoy, so don't try looking for glory in going after them!" Ginny hissed.
"I saved Harry life once already," Draco snapped, scrambling for something to encourage them to trust him. "I'm not about to kill him after going through all that trouble!"
"You...what?"
Draco figured that would get Ginny's attention, at least—it was no secret that she was absolutely besotted with Harry, after all.
Drawing as close to the pair as he dared, Draco hissed in a low voice, "Believe it or not, I am on your side, and now I need to find Hermione and Harry. The Dark Lord's already started sending the dragons in to do some serious damage, and they need to know—"
Another roar rang out then, confirming what he'd said. Draco's eyes widened as, through the now-disenchanted glass, he caught sight of a large, onyx monster heading their way. Its intent was clear: pure destruction of what lay before it, which was the Great Hall and everyone in it.
The many death eaters who were still inside looked just as shocked as the students and teachers. Suddenly, they were all scrambling for the exit, as it became clear that the Dark Lord wasn't about to spare anyone in his goal of killing Harry Potter.
If he thought Harry was here—though Draco had been relieved to note that he wasn't—then he would take absolutely everyone down as well if he had to.
But to use dragons, when everyone knew that dragonfyre was one of the most painful and savage (but guranteed) ways to die quickly, and at the risk of burning down the entire castle as well, the castle of the Dark Lord's own history and ancestry...
But it didn't matter. Now that there was only one horcrux left—Nagini—none of this mattered to Voldemort.
They were all going to die.
Draco held his wand tight in his hand, shoving Ginny and her mother behind him. "Run!" he snapped at them, wondering for a moment why the hell he didn't do the same thing.
And then it hit him.
Of. Fucking, Course!
This better work, or you've just dug yourself into an early grave, Draco, he thought.
Without hesitation, he reached into his robes, his hand closing around a familiar object that, until now, he'd forgotten about. If it had worked once though, maybe it could work again.
Lifting the dragon whistle to his lips, Draco blew into it, using some nonverbal magic to amplify the sound. Neither he nor any of the witches or wizards around him heard it though, so almost everyone except Draco still kept running outside the Great Hall, most of them making it. It was only Ginny Weasley who hadn't, as an overzealous and panicked death eater had cast a binding hex on her before she could make it. By the time Molly Weasley had turned around to help, the same death eater was already casting curses her way and it was all the older witch could do to defend herself.
Now, as a matter of fact, most of the death eaters had gotten ahold of themselves, and were casting spells left and right once more, landing more than a fatal hit on several students that had been distracted by the dragon.
Draco had only his own demise to think about though, which seemed imminent, until...
...at the last moment, right before crashing into the left side of the Great Hall, the dragon seemed to stop in its attack, hesitant, its jaws open wide as though it was about to let loose its fiery breath.
But the flames never came, and, armed with the whistle which he continued blowing, Draco hurried over to Ginny side and, pointing his wand at her, undid the bindings.
"NO!" he heard someone, possibly Mrs. Weasley, yell. But Ginny, looking dazed and completely disbelieving, was unharmed, and managed to get up and stand beside him, her wand aimed at the dragon.
"How are you stopping it?" she exclaimed, sparing Draco a glance.
Draco paused blowing the whistle for just a second, to see if the dragon would attack once the sound was no longer affecting its ears, but the dragon seemed to be in a daze, shaking its head but no longer poised to attack. With a roar, it landed on the roof of the Great Hall, ignoring the few spells sent its way by various wizards. Clearly, this dragon was more powerful than the one guarding Gringotts, and a great deal of magic didn't seem to be able to hurt it.
"Hagrid's dragon whistle," Dragon breathed, sparing Ginny a quick look. "I should return it later, but something tells me I'll need it now."
So saying, he headed towards the dragon, the only insane wizard in the lot to do so.
"What are you doing?!" Ginny demanded, sounding—believe it or not—actually worried for him.
Keeping the whistle close by in case he needed to blow it again, Draco didn't answer, since his idea was crazy to himself.
But right now, the dragons were his biggest problem apart from finding Hermione, and if someone didn't do something about them soon, then they were likely to kill everyone, friend and foe alike, and that was something that even Draco couldn't stomach. He had had enough of it all, death, disgrace, and worst of all having to see it happen all because one dark wizard took delight in the suffering of others.
Even if Draco himself were to die—which, he now realized, he would gladly do if Hermione was already dead—he would take out as much of the Dark Lord's force as he could before he let him destroy Hogwarts.
It was enough. For the longest time now, it had already been enough.
The dragon, perhaps recognizing that Draco had been the one to call it, lowered its large snout until it was almost eye level with Draco. The young Malfoy waited for some sign of aggression, thinking to blow the whistle for good measure anyway, but when the dragon made no move to attack him, Draco realized it was time to take a chance.
"Dragons are intelligent creatures," he seemed to remember Hagrid saying. "Worse'n a hippogriff and harder ta tame, but no less easy ta talk to. They respect their own, same as we all do. Course, they don't speak the way people do, but—"
But Draco had a translator ring that might just do the work for him. If Parseltongue worked well, then...
"I'm no dragon and you're no wizard," he tried, seeing as he had the dragon's full attention. "But we have one thing in common."
The dragon tilted its head, though whether it understood him or was considering to attack, Dragon had no idea. He came closer to him, so close that Draco wondered if it was able to swallow him.
Well, there were worse ways to go than being eaten by a dragon, in that case. None exactly came to mind, but Draco didn't intend to die that day.
Not yet. Not until he saw Hermione.
"Neither of us have to listen to him," Draco said. "And I know this isn't what you want. You won't die here today and neither will I. Not now—not because he wants it."
The dragon roared, shocking the surrounding wizards back yet again, but it didn't make any moves to attack Draco. If anything, the young Malfoy guessed that it was agreeing with him.
Only one way to find out.
"I don't know if the other dragons will listen. Can you tell me how many there are?"
The dragon lowered its head even further, until Draco could see his own reflection in its large eyes. It blinked thrice, very deliberately.
"Are you the strongest of them?" Draco asked.
The dragon left out a snort. Draco decided to take that as agreement.
Well, at least he hadn't been eaten or burned to a crisp yet.
"I know you're proud, but you need to drive the others away. All of you need to leave this place now. It won't be a world worth living in if he gets his way. You know this."
The dragon snorted again.
"I know your kind don't make deals with wizards, but at least we can coexist. Whatever he promised you, consider it nullified. He's going to die soon anyway." Hopefully, at least. "Come back when it's all over, and if I'm alive, I'll—"
"You have already freed one of us, young wizard."
Draco stilled, as the words came not in a way that he could hear them, but rather to his mind. This...wasn't anything he had ever learned or heard of before. But there was no doubt about it: this dragon, whom until now everyone had thought of as a mere beast, was communicating with him, proving its intelligence just as Hagrid said.
But not in the way that people spoke...
"You...you understand then?" Draco asked, finding that it was hard to get his breath. He couldn't describe what he was feeling, wouldn't even try. Only that this was the greatest power he had ever felt, something that no wizard could ever understand unless they experienced it firsthand. And...
"We will meet again, but you and yours do not die today," the dragon, who Draco now realized was female, voiced. "Destroy the dark one, young wizard. We will return."
Then, with a final roar, she took off into the air and, as sounds later on carried, seemed to be driving the other dragons away from the castle.
In less than a minute, the sounds were already far away.
And a dark mist seeped over and around the castle as the Dark Lord realized what had happened.
Hermione didn't get much of a chance to see what was happening before the mist took over. It was more like a dense smog, covering all but the immediate area around her. She caught sight of a dragon flying off before the mist covered the sky, seeming to choke the air around her within a contained dome. The miasma surrounding her was enough to disorient her from where she was, but it wasn't enough to discourage the crazed witch who had captured her, who no doubt could have gone on fighting to no end as long as there were victims about.
Yes, Bellatrix Lestrange showed no signs of holding back when it came to torture.
She had already begun to reacquaint Hermione with some of it since the last time they'd met, taking her time rather than kill her outright. And Hermione, still bound and without her wand, was helpless to resist, her shrieks echoing in the immediate vicinity, but ultimately drowned out by the yells of dragons and otherwise panicked shouts of other wizards within the castle.
How Bellatrix had found her wasn't important. What she was doing now and what she would ultimately end up doing was all that counted, and each of those reasons were pushed out of Hermione's mind by the sheer pain that she felt as crutiatus after crutiatus curse was unleashed upon her.
In truth, it had probably only gone on for five minutes, as everything was happening in fast motion around them.
For Hermione though, seconds became minutes and the minutes felt like hours as wave after wave of pain hit her, unrelenting. At the back of her mind, she realized that this was probably what had happened to the Longbottoms—right before they'd lost all traces of sanity, all traces of themselves.
If this went on, much worse than what she had endured at Malfoy Manor, Hermione knew that a fate worse than death awaited her. Right now, she almost longed for death, she almost...
Just then though, all of a sudden the attacks stopped, and Bellatrix doubled over with a gasp that sounded like it was part-pain and part-pleasure.
"My...my lord," she murmured, her voice hazy.
She was being summoned, Hermione realized.
"I-I have the Granger girl, my lord," Bellatrix breathed. "Shall I bring her to you?"
Now that, Hermione thought in a flare of panic, was the worst option yet. At least she knew what Bellatrix intended for her, gruesome as it was. But Voldemort...
Oh, the dark wizard could do infinitely worse...
"Yes, my lord, you shall have Potter. Yes...yes, I'll return. Thank you, my lord!"
Bellatrix blinked as though in a daze, her glare turning on Hermione in a second. "It seems you're to be kept alive, mudblood. For now, that is."
Shocking, Bellatrix undid the binds on Hermione, leaving her free. Then, before Hermione could react, Bellatrix sent another hex her way, slamming her back a few feet. Hermione barely got up in time to see Bellatrix break her wand in two, then toss it in her direction, cackling as madly as ever.
"The Dark Lord has a message for you to deliver to Potter, mudblood! If he won't come himself, then more will die! Tell him this: No more need die today—only one. Three guesses who it is, mudblood!"
Then, mercifully, Bellatrix disapparated, barely a shadow as the mist consumed her.
Hermione glanced down at her wand in panic. She wouldn't be able to use it, she knew. It was useless to her now, her companion of the past seven years. Even she couldn't attempt to fix it—that was one bit of magic lost even to her great mind.
What help could she possibly be to Harry and Ron in that case though? Over and over again, as Hermione thought on it, she had been a failure now. First, she had let her guard down enough to be captured by Greyback, and then again so that Bellatrix had disarmed her and would even have killed her through torture if only Voldemort hadn't called her back then and there.
And his warning to Harry...that was the worst thing of all.
He was getting desperate, Hermione knew, and therefore was losing his mind, his reason.
He would kill them all if he had to, but he wanted Harry to give himself up instead. Twisted until the end, it seemed.
You can't leave things like this, Hermione Granger, she thought, standing up, the pieces of her wand in hand. Even if all you can do is stand by Harry's side, at the end...
Because Draco...Draco had been in the infirmary where she'd last left him, so now he was surely...
"Hermione!"
Hermione turned, feeling strangely numb as she heard Ginny calling for her. She didn't think to question why or how the young witch had found her out here, all alone. The mist was still so thick, and she could hardly see except a few feet away from herself. It was dark...so dark...and now, Hermione found that nothing counted to her but being able to find Harry and Ron.
They were all she had left, after all.
"Hermione?!"
"I'm here, Ginny," Hermione called. If anyone else heard her, like perhaps a nearby death eater, then let them attack. At this point, Hermione had spells ready at her fingertips, even though the vast majority of them would be virtually useless without her wand.
In a sense though, Hermione was correct: it wasn't only Ginny who was headed her way—Mrs. Weasley had come along as well.
But racing ahead of both of them was Draco, looking no worse for wear and in fact as determined as Hermione had ever seen him.
Tears came to her eyes a moment before her smile.
"Draco..."
The look on his face was no less desperate and relieved as he wrapped his arms around her.
"Thank Merlin you're alive! Hermione, Hermione, Hermione..." And he just kept repeating her name over and over again, crushing her so tightly to him that Hermione could feel his renewed strength.
Merlin, so he was alive too.
Knowing that as good as brought Hermione to life as she realized it.
Quickly wrapping her arms around him, she felt him sweep her up into his arms, his hold on her so tight that she could barely breathe, but her hold was no less so. They clung to each other for dear life, neither saying anything and yet everything at the same time.
"We've not separating again. Ever," Draco said, once he finally caught his breath. He pulled back just enough to look Hermione in the eyes, his hands clasping her to him.
Looking up at him, Hermione couldn't agree more. "No, we won't. Not ever."
Whether that meant in life or death, they had yet to see, but it was certain.
Never again—never ever.
A/N: Okay, I know it's been an absurdly long amount of time that's passed since I've lasted updated, but September and school took me by storm in unprecedented and extreme ways. The only way I can describe it is as being extremely stressful, to the point that it affected my health, physically as well as mentally. There's just no way to account for what can happen or how we can respond to it, but suffice to say that everything else took precedence in life than keeping up an online presence. I can only hope that those reading and waiting for this story are able to continue doing so and forgive my unintended months-long hiatus. (Though may this is usual on fanfiction writing? I'm really not sure.)
Ahem, and now, as to the story, let me just mention that this chapter ended off going in a way different direction than what I originally intended, but that I'm ultimately happy with how it turned out. Sorry for the misleading title, but that was about the only thing that I did write back in September, and since we've got a few near-death misses in this chapter, I figured that it was still appropriate. After all, since both Draco and Hermione are preparing themselves for death at this point (though, of course, this is a fanfiction, so of course they're both going to make it out okay), it kind of fits.
In the next chapter we finally go to the Shrieking Shack, and afterwards I'll be doing a brief time skip because, as mentioned, the scene with Harry going to confront Voldemort alone and then pretty much everything else that happens in the Battle of Hogwarts is perfect as is. There's only one teeny detail that I'll be changing, but rest assured that it's a change that I'm hoping people will like, and it's not a super important change but just one that I want to include for my own fan-based satisfaction.
For those still reading, please do review, follow, and favourite to show your support for this story!
I hope to have the next chapter up soon. Many thanks to all those still reading!