Draco stood in the center of the drawing room at Malfoy Manor, frozen to the spot where he stood looking down at his deranged aunt.

The girl currently beneath her was none other than the bushy-haired know it all Hermione Granger he had known since his first year at Hogwarts. He should hate her, and enjoy every moment of this like his Aunt Bellatrix was.

He didn't.

Every time another scream escaped her lips, Draco tried to turn his head away or squeeze his eyes shut, trying something, anything, to block out her pleas to make the pain stop. He could have helped. He could have done something.

He didn't.

In the end, he stood aside and watched as the girl he had fallen for over the years was carved into as if she were a piece of wood. The letters fell into place as he continued to watch from the sidelines;

M-U-D-B-L-O-O-D

Mudblood.

Draco couldn't bear to watch any longer, but he again found he couldn't move from his spot on the floor or look away from the unfolding scene.

Bellatrix didn't hold back again as she raised her wand one final time. "Crucio!" she screamed.

There it was again. Her screams, echoing off the walls and implanting horrors he would never be able to erase.

Hermione looked to be on the brink of losing consciousness as Bellatrix finally rose to her feet, the bloodied knife still in hand. She wore a crazed smile, her eyes aglow with delight. It was revolting for Draco, but he found again he could do nothing.

Nothing to help the girl he was supposed to but didn't hate.

Hermione Granger was everything he wasn't and so much more.

She was a Gryffindor; he was a Slytherin.

She was strong and brave; he was a coward and weak.

She was a friend to Harry Potter; he was a servant to the Dark Lord.

These thoughts echoed in his mind as he finally felt the mental binds holding him in place lift off his shoulders. The second he was able to move again, he hurried over to Hermione's side, holding her head of curls in his hand. Her eyes seemed to glaze over, in and out of consciousness. Blood seeped from the wound now embedded into her arm. The scar screamed at him from its placement on her wrist.

Mudblood.

He had called her that foul name far too many times. He had known it from the first time he said it in his second year. The look of horror and hurt that had passed across her face before it was masked by a wall of strength was something that he regularly thought about for the remainder of the year. Anytime his thoughts had wandered to her, he had pushed them away, saying it was nothing more than being glad to put the Mudblood in her place.

That was nowhere near the case now.

Draco found that his vision was becoming blurry with tears. The blood was seeping through his finely tailored suit, but he found he did not care. He had learned long ago that her blood was just as precious as his and he wouldn't again let a single drop of it be spilled.

His guilt overcame him as he watched that promise be broken.

Her gentle, chestnut eyes looked up into his still full of that hope and that light. Her skin had become so unnaturally pale she could have matched that of the moon. Her breathing was ragged, and Draco wanted nothing more than to release her of that pain.

"D-Draco," she whispered, her voice cracking with her final heartbeat.

Draco stared down in absolute horror as Hermione became limp in his arms. Behind him, he could hear that same maniacal cackle from his aunt, her cheers bouncing off the walls around him.

"Hermione," he tried only to find he had no voice. "Hermione!"

Draco gently shook her, hoping for a heartbeat to sound again. She couldn't...no...she couldn't be dead.

"HERMIONE!" Draco screamed at the top of his lungs. Tears poured down his face as he tried to reignite that spark of light in her. When he tried and failed one too many times, he held her head to his chest as he sobbed into her mane of curls.

No.

No, no, no, no, no!

"H-Hermione...please…."

He didn't hear the distant voice calling him until the body of the girl that he loved slipped out of his arms. Everything was covered in a blanket of darkness as the distant voice became louder and more clear.

"Draco…."

"Draco…!"

"Draco!"

His eyes shot open and he bolted upright, frantically looking around the room. His chest heaved against the coat of sweat glossing over his pale skin. The covers of his bed were thrown astray, most heaped onto the floor. His hands were balled into fists at his side, firmly edged into the mattress.

What caught his attention finally, was the brunette witch sitting next to him in bed.

Hermione.

Draco looked up into her concerned face, her eyes searching for what had caused him so much pain. For a moment, he was silent, just taking in the sight of her. She was very much alive and well: her gentle curls falling in waves across her shoulders, her amber eyes that he would melt under, and her soft voice asking if he was alright.

"Hermione," his voice came out as a cracked whisper. "I'm sorry I woke you, j-just go back to sleep."

As he averted his gaze away, he felt the bed shift and someone gently pull on his arm. His body went with it and he fell against her warm embrace. With his head resting on her chest, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers brushing through his platinum hair.

Draco didn't know how, but he found himself crumbling in her arms. He extended his arms out and wrapped them tightly around her waist, pulling her ever closer. Against her chest, he could feel the thump of her heartbeat against his ear. The sound was like an angelic orchestra. She was, very much indeed, alive.

"The one about the manor?" she whispered quietly.

He only nodded in return, squeezing her tighter and burrowing his face harder against her. He could feel the lump rising in his throat and the sting of the tears pricking his eyes. "You died this time."

Hermione knew about his nightmares, and she had for a while. Anytime he opened up to talk, it was always the same one. She was tortured to near or actual death and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The way she could see him so broken over her made her heart clench. The war had left both visible and unseen scars to more than just her and Draco, but unlike some of her friends, Draco was haunted by the invisible ones almost every night.

Hermione looked down at his face to see the stream of tears running down his cheeks. Removing one of her hands from his hair, she used her thumb to softly wipe away the tears. Bending down, she kissed each trail of tears before leaning back up. "I'm right here, Draco. I'll always be here."

Draco shifted in response and brought his head to rest in the crook of her shoulder. Both kept their hold on each other until Draco's breathing began to falter to a steady pattern. Before the rise and fall of his chest sent them into a contented sleep, she heard him whisper in return.

"Always."


Hello my fellow readers!

This fanfiction is dedicated to all of my Dramione shippers out there, and even if you aren't one, I respect that and hope you liked! :)

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed reading, and make sure to leave a review or any feed back you have on this fanfic, as I am still a bit new to writing fanfiction, and this is the second one I've ever done!

Have a great day, evening, or night!

"After all this time?"

"Always."

-Summerwinds