The Battle of Hogwarts Part 4
"Malfoy," she said softly, as she eyed him warily.
"Mudblood," he sneered.
"I thought the Slytherins all left," she said as she watched him roll her wand in his left hand whilst his right clutched his own wand.
"Crabbe is operating under some grand delusion that he'll capture Potter and bring him to the Dark Lord, thereby earning accolades and praise to redeem his otherwise idiotic behavior," he sneered derisively.
"And you?" she asked carefully. She tried to subtly glance around Draco to see if she could hear or see Harry anywhere to warn him.
Malfoy snorted inelegantly. "That's a rather interesting question, isn't it? You know, my father is operating under some inexplicable belief that Potter actually has a chance of winning."
"You don't believe that?"
"I believe my father is thinking with his dick," Draco spat. "I've met the Dark Lord. I've been in His presence, seen His magic. You cannot fathom it. You want me to believe a 17 year old Hogwarts dropout is capable of defeating HIM?"
It hit her then as she studied the wizard before her: Malfoy was scared. He looked more like the Draco Malfoy who'd thrown curses at her in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom in sixth year than he did the arrogant, angry Draco Malfoy who'd groped her and locked her in a closet before letting Death Eaters into the castle.
Hermione opened her mouth to respond but found she was unsure just what to say. She needed to get her wand back though, and she needed to find Harry.
"How did you get in here?" she asked a bit more breathlessly than she would have liked.
"I practically LIVED in here during sixth year. I know how to get in," he sneered.
"Oh. The...the vanishing cabinet?" she asked.
He nodded his head toward his right. "It's over that direction."
"How did you know where to find us?"
"Please. Do you think you and Potter are the only ones capable of casting a disillusionment charm? We left the Great Hall even before you did, waited for you to leave, and followed you."
"You and Crabbe?"
"Mmm. And Goyle."
"God forbid you be without your minions."
"Minions have their uses, Granger, as do friends. But then, I'd venture they're not nearly as much fun as having your very own mudblood."
"You're vile."
"Says the mudblood classmate fucking my very married father."
Hermione glared back at him, frustrated at his level of spite when she had much bigger problems than Draco-Sodding-Malfoy's daddy issues.
"Look, as much as I'd love to debate my relationship with Lucius with you, we don't really have time right now," she said. "We are on a mission here, and there's something we HAVE to find and destroy, and then-"
Anything else she'd planned to say was cut off abruptly by a loud crash. She and Draco immediately turned to see a pile of furnishings and other items fall in the distance and the glow of a spell cast.
"Stupefy!" she heard Harry call out, and she knew then that Crabbe and Goyle had found her best friend.
Hermione took advantage of Draco's momentary distraction to fling herself at him, barreling into his chest and knocking him off balance with the unexpected physical attack. That was the thing with pureblood wizards - they never anticipated a physical attack.
Her wand clattered to the floor, and she dove for it, ignoring Malfoy's gasp of "What the fuck," as he stumbled into a bureau and knocked over a lamp and a pile of old books.
She clutched her wand and rolled onto her back, immediately casting a shield to deflect any curses from Malfoy. Mercifully, he seemed to have dropped his own wand, and she took advantage of his momentary distraction to cast a stupefy of her own, freezing him in his place. She felt bad about hexing him, and she figured he'd be right livid at her when it wore off, but she did not have time to question his loyalty or argue with him. She cast a quick backward glance at Draco, and then took off running toward Harry.
~oOo~
When Hermione found Harry, he was exchanging curses with Vincent Crabbe, who looked like he'd grown quite a bit since she'd last seen him, lumbering behind Malfoy in 6th year. She paused for a brief second to catch her breath and throw up a protective shield of her own before moving closer to aid her best friend. A red hex flew past her, exploding into a stack of old trunks.
"I see the mudblood has joined you. Now we're just missing your blood traitor Weasel friend," Crabbe sneered.
Harry turned then, to see Hermione behind him, and Crabbe fired off another curse, taking advantage of Harry's brief moment of distraction. She immediately dropped her own shield to protect Harry, sending Crabbe's hex ricocheting off the shield, and he ducked as it rebounded, setting off an explosion behind him.
"Harry!" she cried as she ran toward him.
"Thanks, 'Mione! I've got it!" he said triumphantly, motioning toward his pocket where Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem was presumably tucked away.
Another curse was fired at them, and she deflected it. Even though they were under attack, she was elated, elated that she and Lucius had been correct, elated that they'd found the diadem at last.
A ridiculously large grin stretched across her face. "Thank Merlin for small favours," she said, pushing more magic into her shield.
She felt good, ridiculously good at the idea that they were one step closer to defeating Voldemort. Sure, they were under attack, but Crabbe's magical skill was pretty limited, and between the two of them, she was certain they could easily disarm him, and then she could send Harry to deal with Goyle - wherever he was - whilst she went back to rouse Draco and deal with him. Had she looked with any rationality at their situation, it might have occurred to her that Lucius's son was powerful enough to undo her spell before it wore off and not apt to respond well to being stupefied, but in the heat of battle, high on adrenaline, those were complex thoughts that she did not ponder.
"It's POTTER! It's POTTER!" Gregory Goyle came stumbling around a fallen pile of boxes, waving his wand and yelling for his friends.
"I see him, you idiot! Where's Malfoy?" Crabbed answered, darting behind a cabinet to avoid a curse from Harry.
Hermione cast at Goyle, who managed to block it before firing a dark curse back at them.
"Seems like dark magic for someone like you. You sure you know what you're doing there Goyle?" Harry taunted.
The badly aimed avada kedavra Goyle shot back that missed them by at least a meter was his only answer.
A volley of spells flew back and forth then, a mix of light and dark magic. Magic thrummed in Hermione, swirling, shifting and mixing with the adrenaline of a wand fight. Casting with dark magic had always left her feeling unsettled, but in the heat of battle, she only felt exilheration. It hit her then that if this was how young recruits felt when exposed to dark magic, it explained a lot about how Voldemort had been able to build an army. She felt as if she could fly.
Any further contemplation was set aside though when a thick stream of fire shot out of Crabbe's wand. Harry automatically cast augamenti at it, but the flames only grew. She heard Harry's muttered, "What the fuck?" as the natural battle between fire and water failed to conclude in water's favour at the same time she heard a shriek from Goyle.
She grabbed Harry's sleeve and tugged him backward, just as what appeared to be a dragon of some kind roared from inside the flames.
"It's fiendfyre!" he gasped.
Hermione looked in horror as the shapes of creatures emerged from the flames, spreading out in all directions. She'd read about this magical fire, fire that was almost sentient in its behavior, seeking and destroying all life in its vicinity, but she'd never attempted to cast it herself. Thanks to her training with Lucius she knew she would have been capable of casting it even in sixth year, but she'd never dared to do so. Fiendfyre was exceptionally difficult to control, which was why it was rarely used in battle. Whole towns had been razed by fiendfyre when a wizard or witch lost control of the flames.
Crabbe stumbled backward, then, seemingly dazed at what he'd created, and Hermione knew, knew and felt in her gut that Vincent Crabbe had no ability to control the fiery hell he'd just unleashed on them all.
~oOo~
Flames licked at their heels as she and Harry ran through the piles of clutter, dodging falling debris and fiery beasts as they cast every spell they could think of to beat back the flames.
"We've got to get out of here," Harry yelled from somewhere around the next corner. With his longer legs and athletic nature, he was easily a faster runner than she was.
Yes, get out of there. Exiting the room seemed like a wise idea. Slam the doors and try to contain the fire and pray it did not take the entire castle down with it.
Then it hit her.
Draco.
She'd stupefied Malfoy and left him somewhere in the room.
She couldn't leave him there to die. She would never be able to look at Lucius if she'd left his child to be consumed by the hellish flames. She didn't particularly like Draco, but she wasn't cruel enough to condemn him to such a fate.
"Harry! Wait!" she yelled.
"What? We don't have time! We need to get out of here!"
"Draco!"
"What?" He paused for a moment to look back at her and push his glasses back up his nose.
"Draco, he's here!"
"Are you sure?"
"I saw him."
"WHAT? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you were under attack! I came running! He… he's in here, somewhere. We have to..."
"Fuck!" he breathed in frustration and looked around them.
Harry saw them first, out of the corner of his eye - two old broomsticks, propped up against a stack of broken chairs. He had them in his hands before Hermione realised what he intended.
"No." She shook her head at him. The broomsticks looked like they'd both seen better days. She hated flying as it was, and the idea of mounting an ancient broomstick to be chased by the flames of hell did not sound like anything approaching a good idea.
"It's the only way we'll find Malfoy in this place," he said handing her a broom.
Hermione gripped the handle and stared at the broom as if she could will it into some other more useful and less terrifying object.
Harry had already mounted his and was hovering in the air.
"Hermione!"
His voice cut through her thoughts then, his tone harsh. "You can do it. GET ON THE BROOM."
You can do this, she told herself. Draco and Lucius need you to do this.
She mounted the broom and kicked off, soaring into the air and narrowly missing the swipe of fiery chimera. Harry pulled up beside her, firing a burst of water at the flames, a temporary reprieve.
"Fly toward where you saw him last. I'll cover you."
"Got it" she said breathlessly.
They took off then, swerving to avoid what appeared to be a flaming arm reaching up from the cursed fire toward them. Smoke rolled across the ceiling in black waves, and she had to fly lower than she would have liked just to be able to breathe. The smoke burned her lungs and stung her eyes, but they pushed on, weaving around piles of old furnishings and doing their best to avoid the flames that relentlessly pursued them.
Harry, ever the seeker, spotted Malfoy first, scaling an impossibly tall stack of old desks as flames licked at his heels. They flew closer as Draco pulled himself up to the top of the wobbling pile, using his wand to shoot sprays of water at the flames.
"Draco!" she yelled to get his attention. He turned and then stumbled as the sudden movement made the desks shake precariously.
"Who the fuck cast fiendfyre?" he yelled back at her.
"Crabbe. Come on, we need to get out of here!" she said as she pulled closer to him.
He had a look of profound distaste on his face, and she couldn't tell if it was at the idea of his friend doing something so idiotic or if it was because the idea of getting on a broom with his father's muggleborn lover was truly that awful of an option.
"Where are they?" he asked, as he grabbed her sleeve and pulled her closer.
"Not sure," she breathed as she struggled to stay upright at the way he grasped at her.
"We can't leave them. They're my friends."
The fierce determination in his voice reminded her so very much of Harry then, and something inside of her softened toward Lucius's son.
"HURRY UP!" Harry bellowed, and she glanced over to see him execute several complicated twists and turns to avoid a flaming dragon.
Before she could react, Draco was climbing onto the broom behind her.
They pushed off from the pile of desks seconds before it collapsed into the spreading flames.
If flying on a thestral in her fifth year had been terrifying, then words did not exist to describe her fear as they flew on rickety brooms through fiendfyre.
It was made even worse by the awkwardness of flying with Draco. She realised - too late - that it would have been better to let him ride in front and steer, since he was far better at flying than she was. Instead he was pressed up behind her, his arms reaching around her waist to grip the broom handle, all whilst cursing that he couldn't see around her hair. For her part, Hermione was terrified enough that she couldn't let go of the broom handle either, which meant that they both ended up wrestling for control of the accursed thing.
They flew at breakneck speed, making sharp turns as the flames leapt ever closer, climbing high into the smoke and then diving down to avoid yet another hellish fiery creature.
They found Goyle - sooty, gasping for breath, his face streaked with tears - as he clung to the top of another wobbling pile of furniture. Harry pulled up beside him and flung him onto the broom.
"Where's Crabbe?" Draco yelled at his friend, who could only manage a gasping sob.
A flaming dragon rose up before them, and Harry jerked the broom sideways to avoid it.
"Let's go!" he yelled at Hermione before darting in the general direction of the entrance to the Room of Hidden Things.
"We can't leave him!" Draco hissed in her ear. "We can't leave Crabbe!"
They turned the broom to swerve around the dragon and she knew that Draco was frantically scouring the room for his friend.
Hermione looked around them, and all she could see was fire. Fire and smoke and death.
"If we stay here, we're going to die."
It was a simple statement, a harsh truth that had to be said.
Behind her Malfoy moved closer, and his grip tightened on the broom.
His voice broke then as he said the words.
"Let's go."
~oOo~
It was easily the most harrowing broom ride of her entire life and one she hoped she'd never have to repeat. Years of quidditch had made Malfoy a skilled flier, and he used that to their advantage, swerving around the nearly sentient flames that never stopped their pursuit. Unfortunately his instincts on a broom ran counter to her own instinctive desire for safety, and it was a struggle to keep up with Harry and reach the door to the 7th floor corridor.
Despite having Goyle on the back of his broomstick, Harry managed to land in the hallway with relative grace, and a barely conscious Goyle slipped from the broom onto the floor. She and Draco were not so fortunate. As they burst from the Room of Hidden Things, Malfoy cast something over his shoulder that caused the door to slam shut, sealing the flames inside and letting her have momentary full control of steering them. He then reached around her and attempted to take back control of the broomstick. She realised too late that he was trying to bring them to a stop before she crashed them into the wall, but she panicked when he pried her fingers from the wood. They fought for control of the accursed broom, with Draco managing to turn sharply before they hit the stone wall. She lost her balance at the turn and grabbed for him and the broom, pulling him off-center as well. They both hit the floor hard, tumbling to a stop a few meters from Harry.
Had Draco been more of a gentleman, he might have broken her fall, but that was too much to ask of him. She felt as if she'd been hit by a lorry as she lay gasping on the floor.
"You…" Draco panted as he caught his breath, "Are the WORST flier EVER."
"Me?" she groaned. "I'm not the one who tried to jerk control of the broom away. I was fine."
"You nearly ran us into a wall, Granger."
She was about to snap back at him when she realised Harry was holding what was left of Rowena Ravenclaw's famed diadem.
"Is it?" she started to ask.
A horrific shriek came from the charred headpiece, and Harry dropped it to the stone floor as if he'd been burned. Hermione watched as a familiar black tarry substance oozed from the once brilliant blue stone.
"What the fuck is that?" Draco asked in horror as he pushed himself up from the floor.
"You don't want to know," Harry said grimly, wand out and pointed at the diadem. "Stay away from it."
She waited, hoping and praying that the horcrux did not fight back, did not emerge with some other grisly or heart-breaking image designed to torment her mind. The black substance evaporated as it escaped the diadem, and then to Hermione's shock, the entire diadem crumbled into a pile of ash. Fiendfyre, it seemed, was an even better destroyed of horcruxes than a basilisk-imbued, Goblin-made sword.
"What was…" Draco repeated before Hermione interrupted.
"Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem. And one of the last things we needed to do here," she said.
"What the fuck, Potter?! You just destroyed a priceless piece of wizarding history!" Draco exclaimed.
"Trust me - it was necessary," Harry said, stowing his wand and pushing his glasses back up his nose. He looked significantly worse for wear after their ordeal. "Also, I love you 'Mione, but Malfoy's right - and you know how much it pains me to say that. You really are lousy on a broom."
The mention of a broom seemed to bring Draco back to what they'd just survived. He brushed dust and ash from his black suit and looked then past Harry and Hermione to where Greg Goyle was slumped on the floor, muttering to himself.
"Is he okay?" Malfoy asked quietly.
"I, um, shock maybe?" Harry said. "Crabbe… I… we looked on the way out, but I didn't see him."
Hermione watched the colour drain from Draco's already pale face. He looked around them, and it seemed to really hit him that his other mate had not made it out of the Room of Hidden Things.
Crabbe had started the fiendfyre, which had been epically stupid of him, but Hermione didn't think he'd deserved to die for that. She didn't particularly like Lucius's son, but she still felt bad for him as he attempted to process the news that his friend was dead, burned alive by the magical flames.
Draco turned from them and bent over, vomiting onto the floor. She instinctively offered a comforting touch to his back, just as she would have done for Harry or Ron, and was surprised he didn't shove her away. She silently cast a breath-freshening charm at him when he finished, and she could tell by the look on his face that he noticed and was at least grudgingly appreciative.
"Are you…" she paused. It was obvious he was not okay and it was stupid of her to ask. "You aren't injured, are you?"
He shook his head and looked as if he might cry. Hermione figured that Draco in tears would only make the situation worse. She felt strangely compelled to comfort him, so she kept a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. She had never thought of herself as all that maternal, but she'd had some experience comforting Harry as a friend, and she thought of this in much the same way. Draco was a right git most of the time, but he was Lucius's son, and his apparent grief over his friend's death was proof to Hermione that he wasn't all bad.
Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, Malfoy, I'm sorry about your mate. Crabbe was… well, he was…"
"A bloody idiot for starting a fire he couldn't control," Draco whispered in response.
"Yes, well, he didn't deserve to die," Harry finished.
"Don't you have some sort of noble purpose or goal to accomplish Potter, or did you come all this way to dig through centuries of junk at Hogwarts?" Draco asked bitterly.
Hermione glanced up at him, and was silently impressed as the grief on his face before became a stoic mask, one that reminded her distinctly of his father. He was using occulemency, she realised, to compartmentalise his grief and rein in his emotions to focus on what was happening at Hogwarts. Despite his anger at her in the Room of Hidden Things, Hermione was relieved that Draco did not have his wand out, cursing her and Harry both. It seemed to indicate that Lucius really did have Draco on his side - on their side - however reluctantly.
Harry looked around then, and Hermione knew it was only a matter of time before Goyle came to his senses or someone found them.
"Yeah, I do, actually. But before I go, I just wanted to thank you," Harry offered.
Draco's pale eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Thank me?"
"Um, Harry, that's really not necessary," Hermione said quickly, horrified that her white lie to her best friend was about to revealed for the enormous falsehood it was.
"No, 'Mione, I need to say this, and then I'll stop," he insisted.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Harry and folded his arms. "Well? What is it?"
"Look, I know we've not gotten along, in, well, ever," Harry started awkwardly, ignoring Draco's responding snort of derision. "But I want you to know how much I appreciate what you've done."
"What I've done?" Draco repeated.
Hermione pinched the back of Draco's arm in desperation. He jerked his head toward her and stared at her for a moment in silence. She sent him a pleading look and silently prayed that he'd go along with whatever confession Harry felt the need to make. He smirked at her in response, and she tried to keep a rising tide of panic at bay.
"I know that it must not have been easy for you, what with your father's role and everything, but you risked your life to get information to us, to Hermione, and I cannot thank you enough for that."
Draco looked at Harry and then at Hermione and arched an eyebrow at her.
"Whatever it is that I've done Potter," Malfoy drawled, "I sure as hell did not do it for you."
"I am well aware that you don't like me, and to be honest, I don't really like you either," Harry conceded, "But I know that SHE loves you, and she says you love her too. You must to pass information along to her like you did."
"Granger, love, the Chosen One is trying to apologise to me. Kindly stop pulling on my robes," Draco said sharply, prying her hand from his clothing. Instead he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. She gasped in shock as she found herself pressed uncomfortably into his chest and side.
"Continue," he said with a smirk at Harry.
Hermione watched as Harry looked up at the ceiling and heaved a painful sigh.
"As I was saying, I don't like you, but I know that SHE does, and, well, if we all survive this and come out on the other side, you have my blessing, Malfoy."
A lump formed in Hermione's throat, and she blinked back tears at Harry's words.
"Your blessing? I wasn't aware that I required your blessing," Draco said in a slightly mocking tone. She pinched his ribcage this time and tried not to wince when she felt him dig his nails into her upper arm in response. Despite his slender physique, the prat was a lot stronger than she'd anticipated.
"We both know 'Mione doesn't have any magical family, but I love her like a sister. She's like family to me," Harry said, "And whether you want my blessing or not, you've got it. I...I feel better about all of this knowing that, well, knowing that whatever happens, she has you," he finished.
A tear slipped down her cheek, and then another at the thought that Harry felt better about the possibility of his own death, knowing she would be with Draco. Yet again, she felt horrifically guilty about lying to Harry and had to fight to hold back her sobs. Malfoy was silent for a moment, and Hermione prayed he could be decent for at least a few seconds.
"That's...thanks, Potter," Draco mumbled, to Hermione's surprise.
He turned to her then, smirking down at her like the prat that he was. "Isn't that wonderful, my love? Potter's given us his blessing."
He leaned in toward her, and to her horror, Hermione realised he meant to kiss her. It was one thing for him to keep the truth behind her lie to Harry. It was quite another for him to touch her in any kind of sexual way. Before she could think of a way to stop him without raising suspicions, he pressed her lips to her own. He bit down on her lower lip, hard enough to make her gasp in pain. He took advantage of her open mouth and forced his tongue in, deepening the unwanted kiss and holding her tightly against him.
Being kissed by Draco Malfoy was deeply disturbing. He bore an uncanny resemblance to his father, but he wasn't Lucius. He didn't feel or smell right. He wasn't as tall or as broad-shouldered, and his body was all sharp angles and sharp nails and sharp teeth. Lucius could be rough at times with her, but it never felt like this. His touch never felt malicious.
She didn't fight him though. She easily could have reached for her wand, could have blasted him across the bloody corridor and into the stone wall they'd barely avoided, but she didn't. Instead she shakily wrapped her arms around him and submitted to a kiss that bordered on creepy in her mind.
She wondered how long she'd have to continue to let Draco kiss her, but mercifully, an "ahem" from Harry interrupted them.
She pulled back from the kiss and was relieved that Draco did not object, although he did not release her.
"Well, that was...I can honestly say that was more than I've ever wanted to see of your tongue, Malfoy," Harry said, red-faced and clearly uncomfortable.
"I can't say that I ever wanted to snog Granger in front of you either, so I guess we're even," Draco retorted.
Hermione blushed in mortification and tried not to think about how this particular scene would be relayed to Lucius at some point in the future.
"You saw each other just the other day. I kind of thought that… well, never mind. It doesn't matter. 'Mione, I need to find Professor McGonagall and get word to the Order, and I need to find the other, um, you-know-what. Why don't, um, why don't you meet me down by the Great Hall in a bit, and we can regroup there? Um, you too Malfoy, I guess."
Harry backed away from them before stunning Goyle once for good measure, to make sure the brute did not wake and attack Hermione and Draco.
As Harry departed with a backward glance at them, Malfoy cupped her face and kissed her again, and Hermione had to resist the urge to bite his tongue.
As soon as Harry turned the corner and was out of sight and earshot, she jerked out of Draco's embrace. Before she could even think about what she was doing, she hauled off and punched him as hard she could in the gut, making him gasp for breath.
"What the fuck was that for?" he wheezed.
"THAT," she said sharply, "Was for taking advantage of this situation to… to...put your MOUTH on me like you just did."
"It's called 'snogging' Granger. I'm sure you've done it before," he smirked at her. "In fact, I know you have. Want to share with me just how I compare to daddy?"
She glared at him as fury flared in her. That unbelievable git was smirking at her. Before she could calm down and remind herself that this was Lucius's son, his beloved only child, she kneed Draco in the groin as hard as she could. He doubled over in pain as a string of expletives flew from his lips.
"What the bloody fucking hell is wrong with you?" he hissed.
She palmed her wand defensively. "THAT is for locking me in a broom closet, for groping me, and for the utterly vile suggestions you made the night Dumbledore died about what you'd like to do with me."
After a few moments, Malfoy regained his composure and glared at her. "I'll tell my father what you just did."
"Go ahead. I'll tell him what you did to me - tonight and the night Dumbledore died."
When push came to shove, she thought that Lucius would likely side with his son over almost anyone else in this world, but she also knew that Lucius cared for her, cared for her as he'd never cared for any other woman in his life.
"You seem awfully sure of yourself, mudblood."
"And you seem awfully hostile for someone who took a vow on his magic to keep his mouth SHUT," she hissed.
Draco was momentarily taken aback. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then closed it, glaring at her.
"Yes, well, my father has always been rather possessive of his toys, never wanting to share," he sneered.
You're better than this. Don't take his bait. He just wants to argue, she told herself.
"You can go ahead and enjoy all you want that Harry and the Order think we're a couple and that you've been my source. But know this Draco - I am the only thing standing between you and Azkaban when Harry wins. So I suggest you play the part of a devoted boyfriend until this is all over," she said sharply.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "You seem awfully certain Potter WILL win."
"I am. And from what I've seen of you - and heard about you - you can't possibly be hoping for Vol- the Dark Lord - to win."
He glanced over at Greg before leaning in toward her with a glare on his face. "Don't threaten me, mudblood. You may be the whore my father is fucking now, but don't mistake his desire for anything more than it is."
"And what do you think that is?" she asked, raising her chin defiantly at him.
"A good fuck with a pretty young bird. Wake up, Granger. The Dark Lord wins, and maybe my father will put forth a valiant argument that he should get to keep you as his toy. Potter wins, and you're my father's ticket out of Azkaban," he sneered. "And probably gullible enough to keep fucking him too. It's not like he's going to ever leave my mother. Traditional wizarding marriage are for life. And let's face it: my mother is worth ten of you."
Hermione mentally dismissed his insult but swallowed hard at the rest of his words, for he'd put voice to two scenarios that were not at all unlikely. It seemed increasingly likely that an outright battle would take place at Hogwarts on this night. It might not be the last. Wars could drag on for years, of course, but it could also end here tonight. And if it did end tonight, end poorly? She had no doubt that Lucius would do what he could to protect her, but Draco was probably correct: if she survived, slave and whore to a Death Eater - to Lucius - was probably the best she could hope for. If Harry prevailed as she'd hoped and planned, Lucius would still be trapped by marriage.
Don't listen to him. He wants to rattle you because he's a sick and twisted wizard. Focus on what you need to do.
It was easy to tell herself that but harder to actually forget Draco's words.
She decided the best response was none at all. Instead, she turned to look at his stupefied and bound friend.
"What should we do with him?"
Draco glanced over at Goyle. "Honestly? Stuff him in a broom closet, stick him to the wall, and lock the door. It's not like he can free himself like you did. Maybe then he won't get himself killed."
Draco looked back at where the door to the Room of Hidden Things once was, and Hermione wondered if the fiendfyre had burned itself out yet.
"I'm sorry about your friend," she said softly.
A look of anguish twisted the younger Malfoy's pointed features for a brief moment before the familiar cold visage returned. "Yes, well, you can help me by moving his best mate out of the line of fire."
They worked silently, levitating Goyle into the nearest closed space and locking the door behind him.
~oOo~
A/N: Thank you so much for your patience with me. I survived the first semester of grad school, and work has been absolutely crazy, but I'm trying to take advantage of the holidays to squeeze in some writing.
I'm thrilled to share that "An Innocent Obsession" was named runner up for Best Canon story in the Beyond the Book Fanfiction Nook 2018 summer awards. Thank you to everyone who voted on this story and who continues to read, follow along, and share your thoughts with me about my writing.
If you like stories about Lucius and Hermione, then be on the lookout for my new (completed!) short story, "You'll Never Know What Hit You" for The Slytherin Cabal's Twist-mas Fest, and be sure to check out "Ain't No Rest for the Wicked," a humourous look at the Potter series from Lucius's POV. It's not really a Lumione, but Hermione is part of the story, and Lucius has some interesting thoughts about her…
As always, I welcome your thoughts, feedback, and comments about my work. Happy Christmas to all!
-Elle