Chapter 78

Hermione accompanied Draco towards the border of the wards of the campsite. It was the last meeting between him and Order leadership before the prisoner exchange. Draco removed his Disillusionment charm and they walked hand in hand through the fall leaves. Hermione turned to face him. He had changed since he had laid himself bare for the Order. Still motivated, snarky and passionate, but something else.

She eyed him. He seemed resigned, and yet hopeful. She felt nervous and giddy, not quite able to internalize the impact of the following day's events. "So I'll see you at Hogwarts tomorrow morning?"

"In the Astronomy Tower. No one will go there." She stood on her tiptoes for a kiss and he spoke against her lips. "Have fun storming the castle."

Hermione wanted to re-introduce Draco to everyone, but he insisted on remaining Disillusioned to avoid any interactions.

"Thanks for understanding," he said, rubbing her arms. She wasn't sure she did. Knowing how much he was suffering, she was simply accommodating his wishes, unwilling to fight with him. "It's hard to look anyone directly in the eye," he explained, "Knowing what I've done to your friends."

"But it's because of you we're all still alive," she insisted fervently. "It's because of you we still have a chance of winning – and a good one!"

He huffed a mirthless laugh and glanced to the side. "Honestly, I don't know what would be worse. Facing their gratitude, or their anger. I don't deserve their gratitude–"

"Yes you d–"

Draco sighed loudly at her protest and she closed her mouth, muttering sorry for interrupting him. His lips quirked and he gently tucked a curl behind her ear. His self-flagellating unnerved her. Prior to that first meeting with the Order he would have advocated for himself, knowing exactly how valuable his contributions had been.

Fucking Kingsley.

"I don't deserve their gratitude," he repeated in earnest, "and I'm afraid of their anger. I may have joked around with the Weaselette, but…" he paused, perhaps to underscore the importance of what he was saying, "But I stood by while her brothers were murdered." Hermione flinched, not wanting to hear his role put so bluntly, but he continued. "She-Weasel wouldn't be so forgiving if she knew. I can't look her in the eye without seeing her brothers on their knees in front of me. Don't you see, Hermione? This trial means everything. It would give me closure, it would give others closure, and it would help build a future everyone can believe in. I can't live with myself otherwise."

Hermione blinked up at him. She couldn't go a day without hearing Eloise's screams, or seeing Dedalus' smile. And now she was responsible for the indiscriminate killing of recruits – forced into battle – by suggesting the Order bomb their own safe houses. She knew exactly what it was to live with terrible deeds. But there was no way in hell a bunch of cowards who watched Muggles get hunted down and sat by while the Ministry was overthrown were going to judge her actions.

"No! I do understand! I do! But…" her lip trembled. "But I want to be with you when this ends! What if you go to Azkaban?"

"Kingsley said I wouldn't." She couldn't tell if Draco believed that. Hermione didn't. She didn't believe a sodding thing that came out of that snake's mouth. Staring down at her in thought, he ran a hand through his hair. "It's eating away at me and I can't take it. It has to stop."

Tears pricked her eyes. "But you've redeemed yourself already!"

His cheeks flushed at her fervor. "It means a lot to me that you think so."

"And that's not enough?" She didn't care how desperate she sounded. She wanted him to tell her that he didn't give a fuck what she did to Kingsley or how he got the pardon, just so long as it was in his hand.

He studied her before replying. "I wish it were."

Hermione wanted to Imperious Kingsley more than anything. She already knew how she could get away with it. It would be easy. Much easier than her complicated scheme of research and blackmail. But Draco didn't want her to, so again, she respected his wishes. That was the right thing to do, wasn't it? She wasn't sure.

Maybe there was a solution she was overlooking?

Murdering Kingsley wouldn't solve anything but her fingers twitched at the satisfying image of her hands wringing his neck. Burying her thoughts of homicide, she fisted Draco's shirt, feeling an urgent need to hold onto him lest he slip away.

He was about to reply when an angry voice cut through the relative calm of the forest.

"How could you?"

Hermione and Draco whipped around to see Hannah and Neville, perhaps also stealing away for a quiet moment of their own before the battle. Hermione caught her breath at the sight of Hannah's pretty face contorted in rage and Neville's in shock.

"I heard he was spying for us," Hannah's voice shook with anger. "I didn't quite believe it."

She broke away from Neville. He pulled on her arm but she shrugged his hand off and stalked over to them. Hermione quickly cast a Silencing Spell, not wanting to draw anyone else's attention. Worried, she gripped her wand in case Hannah attacked him and glanced back to see Draco's face had drained of all color.

Neville apprehensively followed Hannah towards the couple.

"I don't know who I'm angrier at," she growled, pointing her finger at Draco. "Him, for torturing me, or you," she spat, now pointing her finger at Hermione, "for looking at him like that."

"Hannah," Hermione tried to explain, "You don't understand–"

"Oh, I understand alright. It's just like the first war." Her eyes flashed with rage. "The Malfoys were all Imperiused, is that it? Like father, like son. He's using you to prove he changed, aren't you Malfoy?"

Hermione gently reached a hand out to her but Hannah recoiled in disgust. "No. Hannah he's been working with us–"

"You didn't see what he did to Dedalus," Hannah interrupted, trembling with rage. "You don't understand, Hermione. You don't know how Dedalus protected us."

Hermione shivered, remembering Dedalus' smile, and the blood spurting up and out of his neck. "But Hannah–" Draco put a tentative hand on her arm and she glanced up.

"Go on," Draco was gazing at Hannah now, his voice soft.

Hannah shifted her angry gaze to him and sucked in a breath, rearing back. Hermione braced herself for the onslaught and Draco stiffened next to her.

"You hurt me!" she burst out, her cry echoing in the woods. "You just stood there, and hurt me! And Oliver! And Eloise! All of us! And you knew! You knew that we didn't know anything!" Hannah was panting now. Some hair had come out of the long blond ponytail she wore for combat training, and tears spilled from her eyes. "The sounds Dedalus made," she gulped a sob. "They were inhuman!" She shuddered at the memory. "You did that to him!"

"Hannah–" Hermione protested, but Draco squeezed her arm to silence her. Her stomach churned in horror at her memory of Dedalus' broken body, now knowing it was Draco who had reduced him to such a state.

Hannah lowered her gaze to Hermione's face. "How can you touch him?" She eyed Draco's hand clutching Hermione's forearm in revulsion. "How can you let him touch you? He's a monster!" Hannah screamed.

"Draco's been spying for over a year now," Hermione explained, trying to keep her voice steady. "He warned us about the raids, Hannah. He's helping us defeat them. He saved your life. All of our lives." Hermione shifted her gaze to Neville, who appeared distraught and unsure how to intervene.

"He tortured me!" she yelled.

"I did," Draco said, again with that soft, broken voice. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" she hissed, stepping directly in front of him. "You're sorry?" Hannah screamed directly into his face. "You don't get to apologize, Malfoy!" She shoved him in the chest with both hands and Hermione blocked Hannah's arms before she could push him again.

"Stop it!" Hermione cried, struggling with her.

Draco took a step back to steady himself, but otherwise did nothing.

"Hannah," Neville called, tugging her back by the shoulder.

"Torture someone else or be killed and watch his parents die?" Hermione asked, stepping in between them. "That was his choice." She could sense Draco crumpling under the weight of Hannah's accusations, and reached behind her to grab his hand. It was warm, and he squeezed hers back weakly.

Hannah's blue eyes shifted between her face and Draco's. She gritted her teeth and rasped, "You didn't see him, Hermione. You didn't see him break Dedalus' body. I don't care if he's spying," her voice was a low tremble. "Normal people can't just do what he did! He's evil!"

She could feel Draco shaking behind her, but he didn't say anything. Hermione knew he wouldn't defend himself. He agreed with what Hannah was saying.

Hermione couldn't fault Hannah for feeling the way she did, and she didn't expect her to understand. Hannah's rage was a preamble to what Draco would face in the Wizengamot. She could only imagine the sense of injustice the victims and families of victims would feel.

And this was what Draco wanted. That's why he stood here, listening to Hannah's fury.

Hermione drew in a deep breath. The Hufflepuff, once so gentle and warm, sneered down at Hermione coldly. "If Draco didn't do it, he'd be dead, and you'd be tortured anyway. What's more, we'd all be dead or waiting to die. It's terrible what he did to you, Hannah," She squared her jaw. "But he's on our side. He's fighting with us tomorrow."

Hannah's eyes snapped to hers again, ice cold. Hermione glanced between her and Neville. Hannah was still furious, but had no outlet for her anger. Draco wouldn't fight with her. Hannah glowered at Draco again, seething.

"He wasn't spying when he let them into Hogwarts, was he?" she hissed. "Letting his aunt and that cannibal werewolf loose on first years? I don't care who he's fighting with now. He started this fucking war, Hermione."

"That's not–" Her words were abruptly cut off by Hannah's Silencing spell.

"I don't want to hear it," Hannah ground out.

Hermione removed the Silencing spell and was about to fire a retort but Draco pulled her wand arm down.

"Don't," he said softly. "Let her speak."

With a flare of her nostrils, Hannah shot a death glare at Draco and pointed at him. "You don't fucking deserve my words, Malfoy," she ground out before storming back to the camp site.

Hermione held on tight to Draco's hand and removed the charm. Hannah's rage worried her.

"Neville, you have to talk to her. If she were to try anything, tomorrow would give her the opportunity." Indeed, Hermione wanted to leverage the chaos of battle to attack Kingsley. "Draco is critical to us winning."

That was reasoning that would resonate with Hannah if she was tempted to attack him. As they had just witnessed, it was one thing to hear rumors, it was quite another to come face to face with your own torturer, and to have him fighting alongside you.

"Hannah would never–" Neville's voice trailed off and then he nodded. "Alright. You should probably talk with Oliver then. We don't want any surprises tomorrow."

"I'll do that." Her shoulders sagged, relieved that Neville agreed.

"Do Harry and Ron know?" he asked, eyeing Draco.

"Of course."

"Thought so." Neville sighed and shifted his gaze to Draco. "You're the one who rescued Hermione?"

Draco cleared his throat and rested his hand on her waist. "Yes."

Neville glanced down to Draco's fingers and they reflexively tightened around her. Hermione knew that Harry and Ron's acceptance went a long way with Neville, as did the fact that Draco had brought her back. But she could see in his expression that Neville was torn by the knowledge that Draco tortured Hannah in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. No doubt she had discussed her experiences with him.

"I'll see you around, Hermione." He nodded at her and jogged to catch up with Hannah.

Visibly shaken from the encounter, Draco's haunted eyes gazed after him. Slowly, he turned his stare down to her. When he saw the expression on her face, the empty look in his eyes morphed to its familiar intensity and his lips spread in a small knowing smile, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

She was about to launch into a fervent denial of everything that Hannah said. But before she could, he lowered his face to hers, and swallowed the fiery defense of his character bursting from her chest. Draco cupped her cheeks and his tongue entered her mouth, swiping against hers. His tongue entered again, and again, and again and he made soft grunting noises as if he couldn't get in deep enough. Hermione released a sighing whine into his mouth and reached up to lace her fingers in his hair, just as hungry for him. His lips were hot and desperate as she worked her mouth over his, needing to keep him near. She loved him so much and wanted him with her.

Always.

She whimpered as she grabbed at him. Draco had torn himself apart to make their world one they could both believe in. He brought them intelligence, helped them destroy Horcruxes, warned them about raids, found a group of defectors and for over a year he'd been tortured and living in secretive terror.

And now he wanted forgiveness from the society he believed he had wronged.

It wasn't right.

The Wizengamot wasn't in the moral position to redeem him. Only Draco could redeem himself, and he had. She pulled him tight against her body, gasping into his mouth as heat spread between her legs. She trembled, breathing him in with a harsh intake through her nose. She didn't want to ever let him go, and his arms tightened around her like a vise.

Please, don't take this from me.

Her heart ached when she recalled his words, wanting – no, needing – a trial. She didn't want to go against his wishes. She remembered his derision when he accused her of manipulating him like his parents. Hermione didn't want to be another person in his life taking away his freedom to choose and yet…

It was all wrong.

There had to be another way to save him.

She squeezed her eyes shut as hot tears formed, falling down her cheeks and entering her mouth. Trembling, she fisted his hair and he groaned. His hand slid down to cup her rear and press her close. Just when she thought the kiss might lead into something else he broke away, breathless and eyes hooded. She stood up on her tiptoes to reach for him again but he leaned away with a smirk.

Their kiss made his voice husky. "I'm lucky you're mine."

"Draco," she panted, reaching up for him again. "I won't let–"

He shushed her, placing a finger on her lips. "I know." He slid his finger down under her chin and pushed upward, tilting her head slightly. "And that's enough for me. I have to go now."

Draco pressed his mouth lightly to hers and before she could latch onto him again he backed away, smirk still planted firmly on his face.

"Cousin's orders."

He Disapparated.

ooooooooooooooo

The day before the battle was an emotional roller coaster, and it didn't get any easier.

Hermione watched as Molly hugged Harry tightly to her chest. She was sobbing, tears streaming down her face, crying with small panting wheezes. All the Weasleys, with the exception of Fred and Charlie, sat in the tent as Harry told them what he must do in order to finally defeat Voldemort.

"You're our son," Molly cried, kissing him. "You always have been."

"I know, Molly." Harry's voice came out as a choked sob as he clung to her. "You've been a mother to me."

Hermione bit her lip as tears spilled down her cheeks.

"So brave," Molly whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. "You're my brave boy. I have so many brave children." Her shoulders shook as they cried, clinging to each other. "Just like Fred and Charlie!"

Tonks was going to deliver the news of the executions tomorrow during a pre-battle rally, intending to channel everyone's grief into rage. But Harry's impending death was spread by word of mouth, not announced formally, so as to prevent large gatherings with him at the center of attention.

But he wanted to go to the Weasleys and deliver the news himself. They were his family.

Ron squeezed Hermione's hand and croaked, "I can't believe it's tomorrow."

"I know," she wiped her cheek with her sleeve. They watched as Ginny pulled him into a hug, crying on his shoulder.

"But I only just got you now!" she protested, her face wet with tears. "We didn't have enough time!"

Hermione's shoulders trembled, and she covered her mouth with her hand, trying to suppress her sobs.

"I'm sorry, Gin. If I had known, I never would have–"

"No!" Ginny clutched him tighter, and pressed her fists into his back. "No! Don't say that! I wouldn't trade it for anything!"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, and fresh tears spilled out, down over her fingers.

"It's just not fair," Ron continued in an agonized whisper. "It shouldn't have to end for him like this. Parents murdered, Sirius murdered, he's had a shit life until Hogwarts and just when the war is about to end… he has to die?" Ron's voice cracked and he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "Why?"

"I don't know," Hermione answered, more tears streaming down her face. The salt was bitter on her tongue and her throat was raw from sobbing. She turned her face into Ron's chest and he wrapped a steadying arm around her.

George's face was contorted, foreign lines and unfamiliar grooves appearing in places where humor was so often found. Every so often, she'd see him turn his face slightly to the side – almost like a tic – before returning his gaze forward. Her heart crumpled when she realized he was turning to say something to Fred, only to realize he wasn't there.

"Hermione," Arthur whispered with imploring, sad, brown eyes. "Hermione, there must be another way."

She wiped her tears away and shook her head. "I wish there was," her voice cracked when she answered.

One by one, Arthur, Ron, Bill, Ginny, George and Percy got up and joined the hug. Ginny glanced back at Hermione, face streaked with tears, and waved her over. Hermione heaved a sob and ambled over to the crowd of Weasleys. Someone's arm extended, she didn't know whose, and folded her inside the tangle of red hair and freckled limbs.

"Harry?" she called out weakly, not really knowing where he was.

She felt, rather than saw his arm wrap around her waist and pull her in tight. Inhaling a shuddering sigh, her tears fell to the floor, joining the wet puddle as it grew larger.

oooooooooooooooo

"Wow," Harry breathed, taking the bottle of Firewhisky from Ron and smacking his lips appreciatively. "I've never had anything this good! Where'd you get it?"

"Minerva," Hermione answered, roughly wiping away her tears with the ball of her hand. She thought she didn't have any tears left to cry, but she was wrong.

Feeling pins and needles in her leg, she shifted her position on the ground where the three of them sat cross-legged outside the boundary of the campsite, well hidden from everyone else. Glancing up at Ron, he gave her a sympathetic smile which didn't reach his eyes. Harry was determined to keep their last night together lighthearted but she and Ron were struggling.

"No kidding!" Harry turned to her in surprise. "Who'd of thought McGonagall was such a whisky pounding fiend?" His eyes widened in appreciation after taking another large gulp. Hermione watched his cheeks flush.

"We should be careful," Ron cautioned, trying out some levity for Harry's sake. "Can't be heading into battle with hangovers."

"Says you," Harry scoffed, passing the bottle to Hermione. "I don't have to fight. Maybe I'll vomit on You-Know-Who's shoes before pleading for him to put me out of my misery."

She winced, and then stared into Ron's eyes. He wasn't laughing either. It hurt too much. Seamus, Luna, Fred, Charlie, Terry, Remus, Parvati, Dedalus… and now Harry.

Ron didn't even know about his brothers yet. Hermione stared down at the bottle of Firewhisky. She didn't want to drink. She didn't want to laugh. She didn't want to smile. She couldn't do this.

"Come on," Harry elbowed her. "Haven't we cried enough? I don't want my last night to be sad."

"I'm sorry, Harry" Hermione sniffed, and swallowed her tears. He was right. She had to pull it together for him. "I'm trying, I just–"

"Can't you," he waved his hand in the air, "Occlude or something? You've been doing it all year."

"I'm tired of Occluding." She could though, if that's what he wanted. She'd do it for him. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and took a swig of the Firewhisky before handing it off to Ron. The burn in her throat felt good.

"You know she Occluded when she dumped me?"

Hermione eyed Ron warily, but his grief stricken face had a smile.

Harry turned to him. "That's rude."

"Bloody weird is what it was," Ron continued. "Like all the emotion was sucked out of her."

"But–" She wasn't that bad at it. Was she? Her knee jerk response was to defend herself. Maybe that's what Ron intended, to bring her out of her sorrow. She smiled back at him.

"Oh yeah, I know what you mean." Harry jumped in, happy with the change the subject. "Like she's a sodding pod person." He faced her with a grin. "You thought we couldn't tell, didn't you?"

Hermione huffed a laugh, and wiped her eyes.

"A what?" Ron asked after drinking and passing the bottle back to Harry.

"A pod person," Harry repeated without explanation. "I wouldn't be surprised if one morning we found pod Hermione wiping real Hermione's ashy remains into the dustbin."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Hermione grinned back at Harry, but it was fake. "We really need give Ron a crash course in science fiction."

"Zy-enz fiction?"

Harry and Hermione chuckled at his confusion, but it still felt forced. Harry drank again and passed the bottle to her.

"Best Harry moment." Ron interrupted her fake laughter. Hermione glanced up at him in surprise. His blue eyes were red rimmed from crying, or the Firewhisky, or both, but he nodded his head at her encouragingly.

Brilliant.

Yes. This she could do.

She smiled her first genuine smile of the evening, grateful for Ron's suggestion. Thinking a moment, she lifted the bottle to her lips, enjoying the warm tingle as the whisky made its way down to her belly.

"Casting his Patronus for the first time."

Harry turned to her in surprise. "Yeah?"

Hermione's eyes were puffy, and burnt from the tears she shed, but her smile was true. "Absolutely. You hadn't been able to do it, I kept telling you your dad wasn't there to save you and Sirius. And just watching your eyes as the pieces clicked into place…" The corners of Harry's mouth lifted at the memory. "I think that was the moment when I really saw you were – are – someone special, Harry."

"Hey!" Ron piped up. "I wasn't there!"

"Exactly!" she retorted, rubbing Harry's thigh. "That's what makes it the best. I got some quality time with him!"

Harry chuckled as Ron grabbed the bottle from her.

"Well my favorite Harry moment is rescuing Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets." Ron clapped Harry loudly on the shoulder. "Saved my sister and we got to see Lockhart Obliviate himself. You'd gone and gotten yourself petrified by an overgrown snake. Weak, Hermione."

Hermione grinned back at him. "Well if it weren't for me you wouldn't have even known where to go! You two would still be out in the Forbidden Forest screeching about spiders."

"Psh!" Ron waved away her protestation. "Details."

"Oh!" Hermione rubbed her face with her sleeve and sniggered. "Do you remember the look on Toad Woman's face when Harry kept saying that You-Know-Who was back?"

Ron chuckled as Harry performed a series of throat clearing 'Ahem's the way Umbridge used to.

"That's nothing compared to trashing her house," Harry said with a wide grin. "I never thought I'd have so much fun breaking porcelain plates."

Hermione smiled at the memory. "Nothing brightens my day like vandalism and arson."

"Durmstrang was pretty fun," Ron added.

"For you two maybe," Hermione scowled and they laughed at the memory. "Remind me to check the breast size of the next woman I Polyjuice into."

"Speaking of Polyjuice," Harry added, "You missed out on seeing the Slytherin common room. They've got a great view underneath the Black Lake"

"No actually, I saw it when we rescued the stud–"

"Oh yeah!" Ron laughed, cutting her off. "When we thought Malfoy was–" Abruptly he stopped and turned to Hermione. "Are we still allowed to make fun of Malfoy?"

She glanced at Harry's pleading expression and flared her nostrils. Slowly, he stuck out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout and Ron laughed again. She rolled her eyes and Harry's mouth morphed into a grin.

"Remember how scared he was going into the Forbidden Forest first year?" Ron's eyebrows lifted in mirth.

"Wait until my father hears about this!" Harry mimicked Draco's drawl in a high pitched voice.

"Pottah has a Nimbus 2000, father," Ron sat up straighter and tried to sneer through his snickering. "Why can't I have a Nimbus 2000?"

Harry barked a laugh. "Oh, my arm! It's killed me! It's killed me!"

"FERRET!" Ron and Harry crowed, clutching their stomachs with loud guffaws. Hermione watched them silently through narrowed eyes, holding her chin in her hand.

Harry and Ron were each crying, but with tears of laughter now. "I mean," Harry gasped in between laughs, glancing apologetically at Hermione. "I'm sure he's a wonderful bloke and all that."

"Yeah," Ron snickered. "A whiny, spoiled, wonderful bloke."

Hermione eyed the twin flat lines of their mouths, twitching with barely suppressed mirth. "I'm surprised neither one of you mentioned riding the dragon," Hermione replied after taking a swig.

"Oh yeah!" Ron's eyes widened. "Riding the dragon!"

"Never mind," Harry exclaimed, momentarily forgetting Draco. "Riding the dragon was definitely the best experience."

"Yes, well," Hermione shot them a devious smile, "I got to ride two dragons."

They both turned to her slack-jawed.

"Fucking hell, Hermione," Ron complained after a series of fake gagging noises. "I thought I'd get out of this war without needing a Mind Healer. You've just scarred me for life."

"I need to be comforted with something safe and familiar now," Harry pleaded, and then he laughed. "Take me back to Umbridge's kitten room." Ron sniggered loudly, nearly falling over. "You think I'm kidding."

"Oh no," Ron replied, "I'd much prefer to think of dead kittens than–"

"You know what Draco and I did the last time we–"

"Don't finish that sentence," Ron said. "This Firewhisky is too expensive to vomit up."

The three of them laughed louder until their giggles died down. Hermione passed the bottle of Firewhisky to Ron and she leaned on Harry.

He wrapped his arm around her while Ron took a final swig for himself.

"You know," Ron said, "It's not so bad here in the woods. We should have ditched the war completely and just gone camping for the year."

"Right," Hermione snorted. "You probably would have abandoned us after too long without your mum's bread pudding."

The three sat in contemplative silence.

"Troll," Harry said.

"What?" Hermione turned to look up at him curiously.

"My best memory," he said, his smile reaching towards his green eyes. "It was the troll."

A warm grin spread on Ron's face which she mirrored. The first of their many adventures, and the beginning of their friendship. Maybe Harry used that memory for his Patronus as well. It was one of her happiest memories from their shared childhood. A childhood that was ages away, and yet bound them so closely.

She rested her hand atop Harry's and repeated, "The troll."

"The troll," Ron said, resting his hand atop theirs.

She closed her eyes briefly, enjoying the warmth from the whisky in her belly and the friendship of the two men with her right now.

Next chapter:

the dawn of the Final Battle and Harry and Draco exchange some words.

Also yes, there was a Princess Bride reference (I can't help myself) and a reference to Invasion of the Body Snatchers.