Chapter 13 – Alternate ending

Hermione's mind wandered to Draco as she studied the tunnel plans for Gringotts in front of her. She thought he was dead, and was suddenly confronted with the fact that he was alive, but a vampire. A vampire who was in love with her. He rescued her from torture and death, and then left. She had no way of knowing if he would return, had no idea how to contact him, and didn't know if she would ever see him again.

She remembered the first time they met in battle as if it were yesterday.

He could never stay.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione was panting for breath, hiding, back pressed against the bark of a tree, and quickly cast a Silencing Charm around herself after failing to Apparate. Three months after Bill and Fleur's wedding, their safe house had been compromised: their Secret Keeper was captured and tortured. Unfortunately, the Death Eaters had cast anti-Apparation wards in preparation for the raid.

She hoped the others had managed to reach the emergency Portkeys in time. She had been out for an evening walk when the raid started and after an unsuccessful Apparition attempt, had run to the adjacent woods, hoping to reach the wards' perimeter. She was afraid to summon a Portkey from inside the house, lest she endanger someone else's chance of getting away.

The Portkey evacuation plan had been her idea in case of an event such as this. Ironically, she hadn't been able to use it.

Hermione had already felled two of the three Death Eaters who'd been chasing her, sending slicing hexes to their throats. They wouldn't recover. She had hoped the urgency of their wounds would force the third Death Eater to stop and heal them. The extra time would have enabled her to escape. But her third pursuer hadn't bothered.

The distant animalistic sounds made her worry that it was Fenrir Greyback tracking her. He would have an advantage in the dark and could move silently, quickly, and undetected, unlike regular wizards. He would see her movements easily, even if she were Disillusioned. He could probably smell her, too.

Casting a disorienting charm, which she'd learned after Harry had experienced it during the third TriWizard Tournament task, bought her some time. But not much.

Pure terror engulfed her body at the thought of him hunting her. If caught, he would violently rape and eat her. Or he would take her to be tortured, questioned, and killed. She didn't know which fate was worse.

Hermione had no idea how far she had to run to reach the wards' limits, but whatever the distance, Greyback was undoubtedly faster. Hexing while running gave her position away, and casting over her shoulder or behind her back was inaccurate, anyway. The only way she had been able to hit the other two Death Eaters was by hiding patiently under a Disillusionment Charm and taking careful aim. And even that had cost her, giving Greyback time to evade and close in on her. If she hadn't cast the disorienting charm, she likely would have been caught already.

She quelled her rising panic and considered her options. Looking skyward, Hermione wondered if Levitating herself up into the tree branches would be preferable. From a high perch, she could lie in wait and hex Greyback as soon as he came into view. She didn't know if he would attack her with his wand or physically. Either way, her chances in the tree were better than running.

She pointed her wand at herself. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Slowly, she began to rise. Too slowly. She willed her magic to raise her faster, just as Greyback ran into her peripheral vision. He leapt up into the air. She tried to pull her legs up out of his reach, but he caught her ankle. Roughly, he yanked her down to the ground.

"Incend—"

He knocked her wand away before she could complete the spell and tackled her. His body was heavy, pressing her down to the ground while he held her wrists at her sides. She couldn't move; he was too strong, and her wand was too far away to reach. All she could see were his dark eyes, glittering with hunger.

"Potter's Mudblood whore," he growled in pleasure. "I'm allowed to have fun with you first." He licked her cheek, and her stomach heaved in disgust. His saliva was cool against her skin as he pulled away, and Hermione clenched her eyes shut. His head dipped to her neck. "Your fear smells as ripe as you are."

She gritted her teeth and whimpered as he pressed his erection into her.

In addition to dueling, Tonks had insisted that everyone new to the Order learn self-defense, much like Aurors did. But Hermione's mind went blank with terror, and her heart thudded in her chest. She knew they had practiced this position, but she was paralyzed by fear. With the way Greyback's sharp fingernails dug into her wrists and the press of his body on hers, there was no place to move anyway.

He lifted himself off her and released her right wrist to unbuckle his belt. The sound of clinking metal jogged her memory. She'd practiced this scenario repeatedly, first with Harry and then with George. They'd both unbuckled their belts.

Suddenly, she knew what to do.

With a shriek, Hermione brought her knee up to Greyback's crotch, using as much strength as she could muster. She couldn't get much leverage, but it was enough.

Greyback grunted in pain, and his grip on her left wrist loosened. Immediately, she shifted her left arm, straightening it above her head. He tried to grab her wrist more tightly but was pulled along instead. Destabilized by her movement, he fell on top of her. But that was exactly where she wanted him now.

With her right hand, Hermione latched onto the shell of his ear, digging her fingers into his flesh. She ripped it off with a desperate cry . He released her wrist immediately and reared back onto his knees, howling while he clutched the bloody orifice. Body buzzing with adrenaline, Hermione turned around to scramble out from between his legs. Her target: her wand.

"Bitch!"

He grabbed her calf and dragged her back toward him. Sticks and leaves scraped her stomach as her shirt slid up. Hermione kicked at his jaw but missed. He grabbed her foot mid-air, twisted her body around with a grunt, and slammed her back onto the ground again. His blood dripped on her face and chest as he loomed over her.

"You'll pay for that!" he growled, gnashing his teeth. He wrapped his hands around her neck.

Repressing the reflex to grab at his hands around her throat, she reached up to clutch the sides of his face, pressing her thumbs into his eyes. But before she could gouge them out, he jerked his head back out of her reach. He was too quick. His arms too long.

"You're a violent cunt, eh?" He sneered as she gasped for air and found none. Even though she knew it wouldn't do any good, she frantically clawed at his hands and bucked her body. She was going to die. Her vision blurred around the edges as his grip tightened.

Then, she saw another Death Eater looming behind Greyback. She had no chance. Panicked, she clawed and kicked and flailed, desperately trying to breathe as the Death Eater pointed his wand at her.

"Stupefy!"

The red light hit the werewolf square in his back. He collapsed on top of her, unconscious.

Hermione pried his hands off her neck and gasped a shuddering breath, but the dead weight of his body on her chest made her feel like she still couldn't breathe. She panicked again, heaving against his heavy, limp body, trying to get away. The standing Death Eater placed his heavy boot on Greyback's side and pushed him off with one thrust of his leg.

Not knowing why the Death Eater chose to incapacitate one of his own, Hermione stayed in survival mode. She dove for her wand. Clutching onto it for dear life, she rolled and sent several rapid- fire stunners in the Death Eater's direction. Each deflected with a deft wand movement, despite the almost point-blank distance.

"Granger! Stop!" The Death Eater ripped off his mask and hood, revealing the outline of a tall male figure with blond hair. "It's me!"

She lay on the ground with her wand out, eyes wide, breath coming in shallow pants.

Malfoy.

He had saved her from Greyback but invaded her safe house, maybe killed or captured her friends. He had saved her life back at Hogwarts in Sixth Year but let the Death Eaters in to kill Dumbledore. She couldn't make sense of his intentions, and his wand was held at the ready. He stepped forward. She reflexively sent another stunner, which he again deflected. Her heart thudded in her chest.

"It's me! Look! I'll stay here. Take my wand, yeah?" Warily, she watched him flip his wand and hold the handle out to her. Slowly, still trembling, still gasping, she rose to her feet, wand trained at his heart.

"Expelliarmus," she rasped. Her throat burned from the pressure of Greyback's fingers. His wand flew to her. She swiped it from the air with her left hand without letting her own aim waver. He surrendered himself to her. She wanted to trust him, but her head was pounding so hard she couldn't think.

"On your knees. Hands on your head." Her chest heaved; she was still gasping for breath, sucking in air with frequent, deep gulps. She felt dizzy. Her vision clouded.

"Granger! I—"

"On your knees, Malfoy!" She yelled as loud as her voice would go. Her chest tightened. She couldn't get enough air.

Slowly, Draco sank to the ground and put his hands on his head while she cautiously approached. Feeling lightheaded, she struggled to walk straight. Her fingers tingled and began to feel numb. Her breaths were deep and shaky.

"Granger," he said carefully as she approached him. "You're safe." He moved his hand as if to reach out to her, but drew back when she gripped the wands more tightly. Her hands felt clammy. "Hermione. It's me. I won't hurt you."

"Draco?" She wanted to trust him. She did. But wanting wasn't enough of a reason. And yet he had saved her. The forest swam around her, and her heart continued to race, banging against her ribcage. She was going to vomit.

"It's Draco," he repeated. "Hermione. You're safe. I won't hurt you. You know that."

She nodded and looked into his bright, grey eyes. He stared up at her, worried. He had just saved her from Greyback and surrendered. She concentrated on that fact. He had surrendered. He was a Death Eater, but she could trust him.

His broad shoulders relaxed in relief as Hermione lowered the wands, still gasping for air. His blond hair was longer from when she had last seen him at Hogwarts during Sixth Year. His eyes were the same, though: full of quiet suffering and barely repressed emotion.

She wobbled on her legs, and her vision blurred.

Slowly, Draco reached out to steady her waist.

"You're hyperventilating. Come here."

Hermione was going to pass out soon. She allowed him to pull her down on top of him as he sat on the forest floor. He cradled her into his robes. She heard his heart beating, strong and steady.

"You have to steady your breathing. Breathe with me. Slow." His gloved hand cupped the back of her head, and he massaged her scalp through her hair. She tried to match the pace of his breaths, to inhale when he inhaled, to exhale when he exhaled. Bit by bit, the panic from her frenzied struggle for survival with Greyback seeped from her bones.

"That's it." His low voice rumbled in his chest. "Now breathe in and hold it for a few seconds. Breathe out. Yes." She was soothed by his warmth and his scent. It brought back memories of kissing him in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom in Sixth Year. The muscles of his arms flexed around her back as he pressed her closer to his chest. His thumb rubbed her shoulder blade through the back of her shirt.

Delicately, he pulled on his wand, extracting it from her fingers. He made a few motions, muttering warding spells under his breath.

"We're safe for now," he explained, "but they'll comb the grounds after they're done searching the house. Keep breathing slowly."

The dizziness subsided, and Hermione her heart beat slowed to a normal pace. Her fingers no longer felt numb. She flexed them. He kissed her forehead tenderly, and she heard leaves rustle in the gentle night breeze.

"Better?" he asked softly. She looked up into his eyes. The concern reflected there made her stomach flutter. She nodded silently.

"What of…" her throat constricted in pain; it was still difficult to talk. "What of the others?" She didn't know if the rest of the Order in her safe house managed to evacuate. "Did you see?"

"So far no one was captured. An Irish bloke took a hit to the leg but made it out." Hermione felt a surge of relief in that no one was captured and pride in that her Portkey evacuation plan had worked. She didn't ask if he was the one that hit Seamus. She didn't want to know.

After a few seconds of Draco holding her on his lap, Greyback stirred. The two acted reflexively.

"Bombarda!" Her throat felt like fire when she yelled.

"Crucio!" Draco's deep voice thundered next to her ear.

Greyback's body flew into a tree after Hermione's spell, and the werewolf bucked and screamed as the Cruciatis curse wracked his body. Draco's face was lit from the red glow as he held Greyback under the curse. Draco struggled to stand as he focused on Greyback's writhing body, the screams growing in intensity. She raised herself to standing as well and watched Draco's jaw clench while he held the curse. He ground his teeth, and she saw his tears glow red as they seeped from the corners of his eyes.

She debated stopping the curse, but suddenly, there was no need for decision. Greyback's screaming stopped, the werewolf having passed out from extended torture. Draco suppressed a cry and bent over with his hand on his knee, breathing heavily. Silently, he swiped away his tears and dried his glove on his robe.

Hermione was surprised, not sure what to make of what she had just seen. From what she knew of Draco, he was far from a sadist and didn't hurt anyone unnecessarily. He didn't appear to get any enjoyment out of what he had just done to the werewolf. Quite the opposite. But there was no other reason she could think of for his actions right now.

"He's vile," she commented with concern, "but that seemed unnecessary."

His voice cracked slightly with an emotion she couldn't identify and he turned to her, unsure of what to say. His eyes were slightly bloodshot from his tears and the effort casting the curse required. She could see the faintest traces of embarrassment on his carved features. "You're not the only one he's..." He turned his face to the side in revulsion .

Hermione's blood ran cold, and her eyes widened in horror as she understood the implications of his broken explanation. Was this how Voldemort treated those that fought for him? How could Draco stay? How could he continue to function with this going on? How could he be on a raid with the very filth that was violating him in that way? She brushed the hair from his eyes and cupped his jaw, turning his face back to hers.

"Enough of this. Come back with me," she pleaded, her voice firm. "You don't belong with them."

"I can't," Draco croaked. He lowered his head, dejected. "Nothing's changed."

"Bring your parents," she continued, undeterred.

"They won't come."

"They won't come even though," she gestured disgustedly into Greyback's direction, "this is going on?"

She had no doubt that, despite being employed in Voldemort's service, the Malfoys loved their son, just as he loved them. She couldn't believe his mother and father would allow this to happen to him. They could all get out. She would help them hide.

He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. "They don't know. We're being watched." He stared down at her, clearly ashamed but pleading with her to understand. "I'm the one who has to..." He flicked his eyes downward in defeat, unable to meet her gaze for a moment before looking up at her defiantly. "I won't let them hurt my mother."

She felt an overwhelming sense of rage. These people were evil. Draco had sacrificed himself so that his mother wouldn't suffer. But of course he did. That's what happened Sixth Year as well. A feeling of helplessness overtook her, and she wanted to wail and beat Greyback's body into a bloody pulp. She started shaking and eyed the werewolf, lying broken and damaged against a tree. She couldn't allow this to happen anymore. She wouldn't. This was going to end now. With primal scream, she turned in fury and raised her wand to Greyback's crumpled body.

"Avada Kedavra!"

There was an unfamiliar sensation of her hatred and magic blending together and expanding with power. It crackled through her body and funneled into her wand. For a fleeting second, Hermione felt invincible, like she could burst and kill anyone around her. She exhaled through her teeth and the green light shot from her wand, illuminating Draco's shocked face and blasting into the werewolf.

After the curse left her body, left her wand, she still felt the residue of the hate and sheer magical power coursing through her. Her fingers twitched, and she panted as tiny tingles of power dissipated from her body.

Draco stared, but she didn't lower her wand or shift her gaze from Greyback's body. She wiped away the sweat that had appeared on her forehead. After a few moments of silence, Draco spoke.

"He's vile, but that seemed unnecessary." He gingerly clasped her extended forearm with his gloved hand and pulled her towards him.

She stumbled over her feet, allowing him to bring her in close for an embrace. He cupped her chin and turned her face away from Greyback to look at him. Surprise and worry graced his features. Pursing her lips in determination, she countered, "Oh no. That was absolutely necessary."

He studied her pensively, unsure of what to say. "That was your first time?"

She nodded, still a bit dazed from the surge of power.

"You've never practiced on animals ?"

She felt like she'd been slapped. Is that how Draco got started? "I couldn't kill an animal like that. There's no hate to draw from."

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "You could have taken him as a prisoner."

After a few seconds, Hermione shook her head. "We have a holding area for prisoners, but we don't have the means to contain and isolate a werewolf effectively from the others."

"Is that what you were thinking when you killed him?"

"No," she swallowed. "I wasn't thinking at all."

He nodded slowly in understanding and brought her hands to his lips. "Don't kill like that. Channeling your hatred into your magic will change you. You know what you felt."

Powerful. Excited. Thrilled. Hatred was more familiar and would be easier to channel next time, she knew.

Next time.

She shuddered. She was already anticipating the next time. Draco was right: that kind of magic was dangerous.

"You just Crucio'd him," she observed weakly.

Draco had the humility to look embarrassed. "Do as I say, not as I do. He wasn't the first I've Crucio'd, although this was the first time I've been so effective. You don't have to use Unforgivables, I do. They will change you. That's why the Dark Lord insists we use them. Keep slicing throats."

She looked up at him questioningly. "Have you ever…" She knew he couldn't kill Dumbledore, but skirmishes were different. And who knew what Voldemort had his followers do to prisoners? She didn't think she wanted to know what he had done.

He shook his head. "I don't hate the people I'm supposed to kill, and I can't kill the people I hate . It's one of the reasons I'm always watched."

She nodded. Tenderly, Draco brought his hand to her face, running two fingers down from her cheek to her throat. "Let's have a look at you." He pulled down her collar and delicately tilted her head to the side to expose her neck. Her eyes briefly fluttered closed as his gloved fingers brushed against her skin. She leaned into his touch. He took his wand and cast a Lumos, examining her throat and neck, and hissed when he saw the scratches and bruises there.

"Where else?" he asked, his voice tense.

She held out her hands, and he removed his gloves, biting the fingers with his teeth and pulling them off with a jerk of his head. He shoved them into his robes and ran a thumb over the clawed indentations in her wrists, which had already stopped bleeding. Her skin tingled at his touch.

"Shine a light, will you?"

Hermione illuminated her wand and held it over her wrist while he muttered a few cleansing and healing charms. His fingers probed and rubbed her skin, and she watched his face while he concentrated on casting the healing spells. She felt warm both from the comfort and the desire his touch brought. Shadows played across the bones of his jaw, cheeks, and nose from her wand's dim light . His blond fringe, longer than she was used to , glinted in the wandlight.

She brushed the blond hair falling in front of his eyes behind his ear while he worked. His gaze flicked to hers briefly, and then returned to her wrist. He noticed she had been watching him. She thought she saw the corner of his mouth quirk upwards. When he finished, he smiled shyly at her and said, "Open the collar of your shirt, I'll see better."

Hermione blushed, remembering their kiss almost a year ago in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She undid a few buttons and pulled the collar open for him, exposing her upper chest and the bra straps on her shoulders. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, flicked his eyes up to hers, then refocused on the task at hand, repeating the same procedures that he had done on her wrists. His deft fingers ghosted over her skin while he muttered spells. Gingerly, he tilted her head to different angles to expose her neck, and moved the curls of her hair to the side. He was much closer to her now, and his hot breath tickled the skin of her collarbone, her neck, and her jaw, making her skin tingle. His hand cradled the back of her neck and stayed there while he worked on a particularly nasty bruise. She closed her eyes and hummed in contentment.

After a few moments, she realized that he had stopped. She opened her eyes and saw that he was watching her, his grey eyes molten in the wand light. She flushed, her skin heating up under his gaze. His hand dropped from the back of her neck, and cold replaced its warm presence.

"I don't know who enjoyed that more, me or you?" A smirk played across his lips. His voice lowered slightly. "Anywhere else that needs healing?"

She smiled at his suggestive tone but shook her head. "Thank you. You saved my life."

"My pleasure." Draco's voice was husky, and he lifted her chin with his knuckle. The heated gaze he gave her caused a coil of tension to form in her belly.

"Twice now," she added, her eyes falling to his lips.

"And you've saved mine," he whispered, motioning to Greyback's corpse.

His lips were so close. She swallowed. "Won't you be caught?"

He could have killed Greyback at any time on a mission. He could have done it now instead of merely stunning him. Raids were the perfect opportunity to kill someone on your own side . Had she endangered Draco with her actions?

He looked over at the werewolf's dead body again for several seconds, and then his eyes centered back on hers. "They know I hate him," he said with a thin lipped smile. "You'll have to cast a slicing hex at me like the other two you did."

Hermione winced. She felt sick at the idea of hurting him , but that was the price to pay for Greyback's death. He squeezed her fingers in understanding.

"To make it believable, you'll have to. Maybe several, since I'm fast. Just… Do it shallow." She sucked in a breath. "After that, knock me out and add a leg-locker jinx. They'll find me when they sweep the area." He peered into the forest. "If the anti-Apparition wards aren't already down, you've got another 50 meters to go till the edge."

"That's all?" she asked, surprised. She had been so close!

"Yeah." His voice rose in admiration. "Three on your tail, and you almost got out ."

Hermione looked down at his lips again and wondered if he was thinking about their kiss last year, if he wanted to kiss her again. If he could even stomach it after what Greyback had been doing to him.

As if in answer to her question, Draco's eyes glittered as he slowly closed in on her mouth. Her heart pounded in her chest again and her insides fluttered. From the look on his face, he felt the same. He stepped forward, narrowing the remaining few inches between them. Her heart sped up and heat slowly spread between her legs, both from his proximity and the anticipation of what he would do.

He pressed his thumb lightly, softly into her lower lip, still unsure. A question. In response, she reached up and laced her hands through his hair to draw him towards her. He leaned into her, cupping her jaw and tilting her face up towards him. His hand slid around her waist to her lower back, pressing her into his tall, hard body as his lips found hers in the darkness. He was hard, warm, and strong, but his hands and his tongue were slow, gentle, and deliberate.

Draco breathed a small moan into her mouth, and her hands clenched his hair tightly. She'd give anything to hear him make that sound again. She sighed, desperately exploring his mouth with her tongue, inhaling his smell. His tongue pushed hers back and entered her mouth, and his hand tightened against her waist. Then it drifted down to her rear, where he pressed her pelvis into his.

She felt how hard he was, even through his robes. He held her against his erection while his tongue explored her mouth, moving against hers. With a slight growl, he paused, and then slowly pulled away, holding her still. She looked at him: hair tousled, eyes bright, cheeks flushed, and tried to bring him closer, craving the contact. He didn't budge, so she leaned upward, straining to kiss his face. He let out series of barely audible whimpers as her lips ghosted his skin.

"How long?" she whispered between the tender kisses she placed on his lips, his chin, his jaw. She wished he would keep kissing her, but he stayed still, a slight trembling in his arms being the only indication of how deeply he was affected by her touch.

"Not long." He breathed his answer into her mouth. He looked back towards the direction of the raided safe house. "You should hex me and leave."

Her stomach dropped at his words, but she knew he was right. She wanted to stay with him forever like this.

Her voice was soft. She tried, but couldn't keep the pleading tone out of it. "Can you hold me just a little bit longer?"

He took a slow, deep, shuddering breath and rested his forehead on hers. "Always ."