Chapter Nine
Bodies of every side were lying on the broken stones. He jumped over that boy - Creevey. He hid behind statues until chunk by chunk they were blown away. He moved like a snake through the hallways, staying low and invisible, with the only instinct to stay alive and willing to kill in the worst way to do so. Drenched in sweat strands of his hair clung to his forehead and ears, and he prayed in a way that he never had prayed before that something would end it all. He didn't care which side won as long as he was able to go home with his parents, where it was safe.
The particular statue he was hiding behind then couldn't have been described. It was a hunk of nothing. He didn't even know what floor he was on. He ran and threw minimal spells - spells only to get him to the next place. The arm of the statue was blown to tiny fractures, spraying over him harder than hail. He crawled to the hallway, stood, and ran into the nearest door. It had to be luck that it had a door. Most of the castle of Hogwarts was destroyed, blurring the line from inside and outside. The night to despair.
Draco found a desk and hid himself under it like the coward he was. He normally would have scoffed at the notion of being frightened, but he was. It was as simple as that. He wanted out in any way possible.
It had been weeks since he saw Theo. Where was he now? Surely he was not fighting. Likely he was off someplace else avoiding the whole war. Draco was suddenly more envious of him than before. Theo's father expected nothing of him, and the girl he had liked, she was alive. In fact, she was fighting. He saw Luna with that Thomas bloke, fighting away Dementors.
It felt like ages since he had seen Hermione. She never returned and he assumed she had gone off with someone else. He never thought that a ghost could leave an area, like Myrtle never left Hogwarts, but if she was there, she would have had to have seen him. She would have even had to comment on the amount of books he had been reading on the subject of ghosts, each as useless as the last.
One cannot summon back the dead.
Death is a tragic but necessary part of life.
Subjected to death it is permanent.
He placed his hands on the sides as the building shook again. The ceiling was failing on him. Hot tears streamed down his face, down his neck, and to the neckline of his robe. How long could a battle last? They were closing in on twenty-four hours.
The building shook once more, and he could hear the sounds of wood splintering, it falling over the desk, flecking his dragon hide shoes. He winced. That was it. He was dead. Whoever was coming through the door was going to kill him. It no longer mattered whose side they were on, because since his family's downfall he was wanted everywhere. Every Death Eater hated him for being the son of Lucius and being the spitting image of him. He was doomed.
"Hermione," he whispered. "God Hermione, if you can hear me..." He opened his eyes, and saw nothing but the loosened stones in the wall. It was about to give in, let the whole place would bury him. He was going to die. He didn't want to die.
A mauled face appeared in front of him, his nose offset of his face, and his chin and neck coated in a thick layer of blood that filled Draco's nostrils.
"There you are. Little Drakey hiding under a desk. How cute." The tip of the wizard's stubby wand flicked his nose. "Say goodbye Malfoy."
He closed his eyes. Goodbye, Hermione.
There was a scuffle and the man yelled. Draco opened his eyes soon enough to see Hermione in front of him, her hand stretched behind her, pressing to his chest, pushing him out of the way as green sparks illuminated her bone white face. Yet, all he could think was that he felt her touch. Her icy touch numbed the beat of his heart.
His face near shards of glass.
His cheek and chin in water.
When they expressed a strong enough emotion, things could break, they became more solid.
The man stumbled backward with another giant yelp before scrambling out of the room. Hermione backed herself up against the wall looking as scared as Draco, but a satisfied smile presented itself on her lips.
"Hermione," he sighed. There was little chance she heard his prayer for her, but he would have very much liked to have believed it.
The young woman sat across from him. "When I was little I wanted to be a witch." It seemed like a random thing for Hermione to say, but he smiled because he remembered her telling him that once, a very long time ago in another life.
"I remember."
"It seems silly now, to think I was always a witch! Other girls wanted to be fairies. They thought I was a bit odd."
He always thought she was odd, and he held that point of reference against anyone who claimed to have it before him. "And now you're giving a go at being a guardian angel?" When it was clear that she was only going to shrug and smile, he said, "how about Potter and Weasley?" He didn't want to bring them up in their moment of triumph, but he wanted to know how long he had her for.
"Where did you think I was?"
He laughed, it was hollow and without emotion. "Right. You best be off then, eh?"
She frowned. "Yes."
He frowned too. He was hoping she would say no. They had her for seven years! It wasn't fair that they take her as a ghost too.
"It'll be sunrise soon. I want you there to see it." She smiled knowingly.
"Hermione?"
"Yes?"
What was he going to say? If he said nothing, would she still leave? "I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too."
She faded, and he shivered. His whole body was shaking, and he wasn't certain if it was the battle or the quite literal touch she had on his heart. Whatever it was, he stayed where he was until the building stopped moving and the screams had silenced. That was when he found himself into the hallway, searching for his parents. That was when he found them in the Great Hall searching for him. Together they watched Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Never-Stayed-Dead defeat Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. One great flash of light, and the war was over.
Over. And the first rays of sunlight lit the end of the war, of enemies, of a boy and a girl. Of him and of her.
A/N: Two more chapters await.