"If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,"

Saturday 31st October, 1998

The rest of the month passed in a blur, as Draco divided his time between Granger and Snape. Although his godfather disapproved of what he had done, Draco could not abandon him. They usually spent the mornings together, discussing things like potions and research – never anything about the war or what had happened to them both. After a few weeks, Hermione joined them. Draco was surprised at how Snape seemed to accept her, how he was even civil towards her; he suspected that Snape was trying to appease him. Of course, Potter and Weasley were furious. Their relationship with Hermione had descended to exchanging biting insults across the dinner table; it had gone so far, that it now seemed that Snape and he were her only friends.

As Halloween approached, Order meetings occurred more and more regularly. It seemed like every evening they gathered in the kitchen, their heads bent together to discuss theories and tactics and Merlin knows what else. Draco often zoned out during them; he knew that he should've listened, but if he did it simply made it harder at the other set of meetings he was required to attend. The Death Eater meetings were also called more often, and so Draco often found himself jumping from one leader to another. He had tried complaining about it to Snape, but the older man had simply laughed and told him to get used to it.

When Halloween finally came around, a half-carved pumpkin was the only symbol of the day's festivities. The inhabitants of the house stood around the kitchen table, staring at Harry Potter with a mixture of all emotions: fear, desperation, hope and longing. It was lunchtime – an unusual time for an Order meeting, and yet a necessary one. Last night, Draco had been called to Lord Voldemort. It was time. That night, during the Halloween feast, the Death Eaters were going to take Hogwarts. A meeting had been called immediately, and there they sat. Potter had just announced the news to everyone and, although they knew it would happen some time, it came as a shock. Draco was the only person who did not look at Potter. His eyes were planted firmly on Hermione who sat by The-Boy-That-Everything-Depended-On. Her eyes were red from crying, her face pale with fright and her lip swollen from her persistent nibbling of it. The news that had been so abruptly announced should have changed Draco's life dramatically. He should not have been admiring her unusual beauty as though he had all of the time in the world.

"And you suggest we flee there immediately? Without a plan or even an aim?" Snape's caustic criticism broke Draco's trance, and his eyes flicked to where his godfather sat. Potter gripped onto the table and leant forwards, his green eyes calmer than Draco had ever seen them.

"We have an aim, Snape, and it has been my aim since the moment I learnt about my parents' murderer – I am going to kill him." Harry looked around the room. "I simply can't let Hogwarts fall. Think of all of those children, left to the mercy of the Death Eaters. Can you really allow that to happen?"

The room fell silent, except the steady ticking of the Weasley's grandfather clock that had been permanently relocated to the house. Potter looked around, almost pleadingly, as the gathered members of the Order avoided his eye.

"Cowards…every single one of you…"

"I have something to say." Draco's voice rang out around the kitchen before he realised. He wasn't even aware he had been thinking about Potter's questions, but it turned out he suddenly had an answer.

"Thank you, Draco." Snape interjected, sitting back in his seat. "I am sure you will have something sensible to say on this matter." He looked smug and proud, especially when Harry sat down with a defeated expression on his face.

"I agree with Potter. People could be lying dead whilst we discuss whether or not they are worth saving. It doesn't really matter if there is no plan, because we'll save more people by being there than we would if we stayed here." Draco did not hide his smirk of triumph when Hermione grinned at him.

"Harry's right…they're both right." Hermione laughed, although it sounded a little hysterical. "We need to go – the sooner the better. We may not want it to be true, but our time has come; this is what we've been waiting for."

"Yes!" Potter cried, thumping his fist on the table. "It's decided then. We're going."

The feast had not yet started when they arrived at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall was aware of what was happening, of course, and so she stationed everyone at various positions around the castle.

"Mr Malfoy you shall be accompanied by…Miss Granger and you shall watch the dungeons."

"No." Potter replied. "She's coming with us."

"You shall be accompanied by Professor Snape." McGonagall replied. "And will be hidden until the correct time. Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy, however, will be protecting the dungeons – as I said." Not even in this adrenalin-fuelled state could Harry argue against Minerva, and so he nodded miserably before leaving with Snape.

As they made their way from the headmistress' office, Draco slipped his hand into Hermione's. He began to walk faster, causing her to almost trip as they descended the main staircase. Draco gritted his teeth together, desperately trying to resist the urge to check if she was okay. The truth was, he simply didn't have the time. When they reached the Entrance Hall, Draco came to an abrupt stop. He stood facing Hermione, tilting his head down to look at her face, and placed his hands on her shoulders. Without saying a word, he brought his lips down to meet hers and kissed her. It was a kiss laced with fear, regret and desperation – neither of them could deny it.

"You're beginning to scare me." She whispered. "What's going on?"

"I was called whilst we were in the office. Voldemort is in the Shrieking Shack; Hogsmeade surrendered." Hermione's eyes widened.

"Why didn't you tell them, Draco? Harry needs to know…"

"No." He said determinedly, a frown passing over his face. "Snape knows and that is sufficient. Potter need not be concerned…"

Draco flinched as realisation passed across her features. He could see that she was trying to appear brave, but it was impossible to conceal the utter terror that flashed in her brown eyes. Letting out a shaky sigh, she looked at the grand doors that were open to reveal the grounds outside. From that position they could see the tallest chimney of the Shrieking Shack, peeking out from behind the hills as though it was waiting for them expectantly.

"He wants you to take me, doesn't he?"

"As soon as possible. I'm supposed to lead you there without causing you any fear." Hermione smiled bitterly.

"I'm simply to follow you like a dutiful, lovelorn Mudblood who's infatuated with the precious Pureblood?" She laughed scornfully. "We have to kill him Draco – I'll do anything it takes to make sure he doesn't survive." She let out another sigh, but this time it was more collected. "Right. Lead me away, Draco. I'm ready."

It felt like an age as they walked across the grassy lawn in front of the school. The lake glittered in the twilight, reflecting the candles that shone brightly in the castle and the peeping moon. The students would be settling down for their feast now, completely unaware as to what was about to happen. It made Hermione want to vomit. She took Draco's proffered arm and squeezed it tightly, clutching it as though this was the only protection she would need. She used to do that when she was little, riding the Ghost Train with her father. 'Everything will be alright if you just take my arm' he would say to her. She would do it and, instantly, would feel better. Standing in these beautiful surroundings, this was no longer any help; her father could not help her, and this time the demons were not pretend.

The Shrieking Shack had not changed much since her third year. Dust still covered almost every surface, cobwebs barred off windows and she still felt the eerie sensation that she did not quite belong there. They came to a sudden stop outside of a closed door, and Draco turned to her. Hermione looked up at him, consciously trying not to reveal the fright that she felt. Draco closed his own eyes for a moment, before opening them and staring at her blankly.

"Just in here, love…I promise you'll like it."

"I really can't think what it could be, Draco!" Hermione trilled, catching onto his game. "I'm terribly excited to see though!" With a deep breath, Draco pushed open the door and suddenly everything went black.


An undistinguishable time later

Draco's eyes fluttered open as a cool blast of air brushed across his face. He opened them properly and sat up, feeling his head pounding as though he had hit it against something. When he finally realised that he had been led down, he presumed that it had been the floor. Instantly, Draco whipped his head around to look for Hermione. He saw her led next to him on the floor; her eyes were still shut and, at first glance, it may have seemed that she was simply asleep. But the more Draco looked, the more he saw. Blood trickled gently from a gash in her lip and black bruises had already begun to appear on her face – she shifted slightly and opened her eyes, moaning in pain. She was conscious, but only just.

"I apologise for stunning you also, Draco, but it was unavoidable." Voldemort hissed; a fiendish smirk on his face. "Miss Granger and I have been becoming acquainted, although I do find she is not as co-operative as she ought to be."

Voldemort suddenly leapt to his feet and swooped towards her. Draco hurried to the side of the room, and sat on the floor, slumped against the damp wall as he watched Lord Voldemort torture Hermione.

"How long have I been unconscious, My Lord?" Draco whispered; his throat dry.

"Approximately three hours. The battle is raging at Hogwarts and, I am not afraid to admit, The Order are fighting valiantly. If they had not been Blood Traitors, I would gladly have accepted some of them into our ranks."

"What are we to do here, My Lord? Are you going to kill the Mudblood?"

"Not yet." Voldemort hissed, bending so his face was only inches from Hermione's. "She will be bait first."

With that, Voldemort returned to full height and placed his wand against his throat. Although he spoke at an ordinary volume, Draco could hear his voice echoing in the distance. Closing his eyes to block out the sounds and images, he rested his head against the wall and took three deep breaths.

"Harry James Potter, give up your fight. Come to the Shrieking Shack, completely alone, for I have something here that may interest you." He stepped closer to Hermione once more and placed the wand against her throat. "Speak." He hissed.

"Ha…Harry don't!" She gasped, choking a little. "Stay away Harry! Please I beg you!" Voldemort stepped away from her and smiled menacingly at Draco.

"Ten minutes, and I shall have him."

Lord Voldemort had been correct. They stood in silence, waiting and staring at the door, each with equal interest in who was about to come through it. Draco tried not to watch as Hermione writhed in pain; he presumed that Voldemort had hit her with some internal curse that was paining her, for he could see no real outward injuries.

"Your father shall be proud, Draco. You have done well for the honourable name of Malfoy."

"Lucious Malfoy is nothing but a bastard." Hermione hissed. "And I'll take so much pleasure in making sure that he is well and truly dead!"

"A fiery one." Voldemort said with a sigh. "A terrible shame that she has such filthy blood. Crucio."

Hermione let out a shrill scream and began writhing more violently. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly, screwing her eyes shut, as though it were possible for her to block out the pain. Voldemort laughed before ending the curse, and then he turned to Draco.

"You do it, Draco. I'm certain you deserve it, after all of these months pretending to be in love with her." Draco felt his heart race as he slowly climbed to his feet, reaching into his pocket shakily to pull out his wand. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and stepped towards her. His wand was outstretched, the words poised on his lips, when the door was suddenly thrown open. Potter stood in the doorway, his wand withdrawn, staring fiercely at Voldemort. Snape stood behind him, looking just as stoney and fierce.

"Mr Potter." Voldemort said; stepping forwards as though he were greeting guests for dinner. "As predictable as ever, I am pleased to see….and you brought Severus too, how thoughtful. You shall never know how much it will please me to rid the world of the three of you, all at once!"

"You won't touch a single one of us!" Harry spat, gripping his wand. Draco noticed that he was covered in blood, dirt and sweat. "Let Hermione go. It's me you want, not her."

"A touching idea but one nevertheless that shall be ignored. You shall all die by my hand tonight." Voldemort turned to look at Draco. "Now, where were we? I do believe you were about to punish this Mudblood."

All eyes were fixed upon Draco. It was time to make his choice. All of his life he had been conditioned to believe that muggle-borns, like Hermione, were dirty and stupid and unnecessary. He had been convinced for most of his life that he was superior to them, superior to her, and three years ago this would have been all he'd ever wished for. But he knew her now, he liked her…oh to hell with it, he loved her. She wasn't below him; if anything, she was far more superior than he could ever be. Licking his lips, he lifted his wand as though preparing to voice the curse. It was there at the forefront of his mind; it would take only a second to mutter that one word that would cause her so much pain…

"No." He said, his voice sounded stronger than he felt. Draco had a quick moment to notice a single tear roll down Hermione's cheek, before he turned to look at Voldemort. "I won't do it – I won't hurt her more than I've already done by agreeing to bring her here." Voldemort sneered at him, withdrawing his wand.

"I see…you believe you have fallen in love with the Mudblood bitch after all…but why did you bring her here if you truly love her, Draco? Why would you inflict this on her, when you knew how it would end?"

"I did it to help them!" He cried in response. "Hermione and I agreed to tell you that I would hand her over, just so I could get back into your ranks! I have done what my Godfather so successfully did before me, and I would do it again. I love her and I am no longer afraid of you, Voldemort. You can do nothing that will hurt me."

For a moment everyone stood in stunned silence. Draco's heart was pounding so hard, he was certain it would spring out of his chest. Although he had done something both brave and ridiculously stupid, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from him. He knew there was only one thing left to do now – one final barrier to cross before he could get everything he had ever wanted. For once in his life, something was almost properly within his reach. Voldemort needed to be destroyed. It was he who broke the silence. Bearing his teeth and fixing his scarlet eyes on Draco, he pointed his wand at Hermione.

"I could kill her."

It all happened too quickly to register properly in Draco's mind. He heard Voldemort utter those two words and saw the flash of green light. He could see Snape trying to restrain Harry, but noticed that Potter was quick enough to escape his grasp and rush forwards. He felt himself leap across the room towards Hermione, keeping his eyes fixed on hers and seeing with relief and surprise that she was smiling at him. Then all he saw was a bright shining light; a light which seemed to warm every inch of his body, from the tips of his fingers to the core of his heart. It was all he could see and all he could feel. He was consumed by it and, with a small gasp, everything went black.


That was when Hermione began screaming - a scream so loud that it hurt her throat. It felt as though someone had slashed her chest and tore out her heart. It felt as though she would no longer be able to live. Letting out a strangled sob, she flung herself across the floor, despite the pain of her injuries and the blood that seemed to be seeping from an injury on her back. People seemed to be appearing from nowhere, flooding the room and filling it with noise, She ignored their voices; what they said no longer concerned her. Screaming again, she draped herself across the motionless body and grabbed his face between her hands. With a final sob, she looked into his empty eyes.


Author's Note: So there you have it - chapter 17! I decided to update the chapter so quickly as i really want to end this story; not because i haven't enjoyed it, but simply because i think it's finally time to wrap things up! The spell which Voldemort uses is, of course, JK Rowling's creating. I decided to borrow it! ;) Hopefully you've enjoyed this chapter (as much as possible anyway, given the circumstances!) and i hope you leave a review. Whether it's criticism, praise or even general waffle, it's always appreciated! One more chapter to go!