AN: Finally. First, my computer crashed. Then, I had finals. Then, I had graduation.

I know it's not really an excuse, but hey, it's all I got. But anyway, after a long long wait, I finally got this chapter up! I hope you enjoy. There's probably one more chapter and maybe an epilogue after this... it's almost over, people!

Stand and Watch It Burn

XXIX. Down Once More

The moment Harry landed, he knew something was wrong. The massive iron wrought gate at the entrance was left open, swinging freely on one hinge, and the front door to the manor itself was left slightly ajar. He stood, surveying the scene in front of him when Ron landed awkwardly next to him.

"Rough flight," Ron mumbled, mostly to himself. "Didn't think it'd get so turbulent."

"The shields around Malfoy Manor have been breached," Harry said. He frowned as he continued to survey the area. "There's no way we could have entered so easily, or so close. I used a Shield Breaking Charm when we flew in, but I didn't think that one would be enough. Someone tampered with them."

Ron's eyes widened. "What… but I thought it was well-protected. Ancient charms and curses surrounding the whole place and whatnot."

"It is," Harry said. "But if someone knew how to get around them…"

"Lucius Malfoy."

Harry nodded. "Kingsley and backup will be here soon."

"I don't think we can wait, Harry. Hermione might be in there," Ron said urgently.

"I know," Harry said. He nodded towards the door. "Let's go."

Carefully, the two proceeded, walking carefully down the stone path and stopping on the grand front entrance. Harry cautiously pushed the door open. It swung open and hit the wall with a dull bang. Harry gestured with his head for Ron to go ahead.

Ron held his wand at the ready and walked carefully forward towards what seemed to be a corridor leading to the dining room. Harry followed suit, surveying the lobby and staircase instead. Merlin, it's huge. Harry always forgot how big Malfoy Manor was. And every time he recalled how large Malfoy Manor was, he always remembered how proportionately big Malfoy's ego was. His eyes swept around and finally caught sight of something resembling a trail. To the common eye, it just some dirt, perhaps tracked in by someone walking outside. But Harry knew better. "Ron," he whispered. Ron, swiftly and silently walked over. When he was standing right by Harry, Harry pointed towards the light dirt tracks on the stairs.

"Do you hear that?" Ron stood up straight.

Harry listened carefully, and it seemed as if there were voices coming from upstairs. "Yeah," Harry said slowly. "Come on. Let's check it out."

Carefully, slowly, tentatively, Harry took the first step up the staircase. His heart was pounding loudly in his ears. Years of training and all those missions on the field – nothing prepared him for this. There had been many times during the war when the life of a friend had been in danger. There had been many times when Hermione's life had been in danger. But that was before Hermione became a wife and mother. Now there was so much more on the line.

Harry could hear Ron's footsteps behind him. Together, they climbed up the staircase, a staircase that seemed to carry on forever. When Harry reached the top, he paused and looked down the long hallway. His instincts kicked in and slowly he moved towards the door at the end of the hallway. Wordlessly, Ron followed. They were halfway down the hallway when they heard a thud – the sound of something heavy falling. The floor under their feet shook.

Harry turned and stared at Ron whose eyes were just as wide. Hesitating a brief moment, Harry suddenly bolted down the rest of the hallway and towards the door at the end of it.

He kicked the door down.

Draco Malfoy was in the middle of the room, his back to the door. His mother was sitting in a chair with a tall back, sheathed in beige coloured brocade, to the right. And Hermione was in a matching chair directly to the left. She was literally drenched in blood.

Harry stared, unbelieving. He felt like his world suddenly slowed, screeching to a startling halt. It felt like a lifetime, but he was hardly there for a second when the trance was broken. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blur move right in front of him.

The next thing he knew, Ron had his arms around Malfoy in a death grip. He was roaring like a wounded animal, nonsensical and enraged. The two men struggled, Malfoy trying to get the taller man's arms off of him. Under normal circumstances, the match would have been much more equal, but the adrenaline rush from the pain and fury gave Ron a strength he normally would not have had, making Malfoy's attempts completely futile.

"Stop!"

Immediately, Ron's hold on Malfoy loosened, and Harry turned his gaze from Ron and Malfoy's tussle to the women seated in front of him, momentarily unsure of who spoke. He didn't want to hope. He saw Narcissa sitting with her back rigid, her eyes glaring at her son's assailant. But the voice did not belong to her. Hermione – a very much alive Hermione – was looking crossly at Ron and Harry.

"Her…Hermione?" Ron sputtered out.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Her voice was tired and frustrated, as if she were inquiring Ron about him trekking ashes from the fireplace through the living room, not throttling Malfoy to death. "Let him go."

Still stunned, Ron's arms fell to the wayside. Malfoy shook them off and stepped away from Ron, scowling at him.

"What were you doing?" Hermione demanded.

"You're alive?" Harry asked, still in disbelief.

Hermione sighed almost impatiently. "Yes."

"But… but the blood." Ron pointed uncertainly at Hermione's blood drenched clothes and hair. "It's all over you. Your face, your jumper…"

"It's not mine."

"Then whose…?"

"If you hadn't been so quick to jump to conclusions, Weasley," Malfoy drawled, "you might have noticed the body behind Hermione."

Harry finally stepped completely into the room and strode across the bedroom to where Hermione and Narcissa Malfoy were seated. Concealed by the chairs was Lucius Malfoy, his body splayed across the floor and a pool of blood growing underneath him. "Merlin," he muttered.

"You might want to heal him before he bleeds out, Potter, if you want him still alive," Malfoy said quietly. "Sectumsempra. You remember – the one you cast on me in sixth year."

Harry raised his wand and cast the songlike incantation Snape had taught to him. The wounds on Lucius's face immediately healed, and though Harry could not see what other wounds Malfoy's curse had inflicted, the bleeding seemed to have stopped. Harry kneeled next to the elder Malfoy's prostrated body and checked manually for a pulse. "He's alive, but barely," Harry declared. "We need to get him to St. Mungo's as quickly as possible if he is to live."

He would have expected a sarcastic remark from Ron, but his friend was busy tending to Hermione – or at least, he was attempting to tend to Hermione.

"I'm fine, Ron." Hermione pushed aside the arm that Ron had offered her to help her up.

"No, you're not! You've been Malfoy's captive. You're probably tired and hungry." Ron shoved his arm in front of her again. "You need support."

Hermione stubbornly tried to get up by herself and crumbled back into her chair when her legs gave out from under her. Harry could see she was a little dismayed by her inability to stand on her own as her expression visibly dropped. Almost reluctantly, she took Ron's arm, and he helped her to her feet. None of this went unnoticed by Malfoy. It appeared as if he were completely engrossed in looking over his mother to ensure she was unharmed, but Harry could tell his attention was elsewhere. Malfoy gently wrapped an arm around his mother and lifted her up slowly.

"We can Floo to St. Mungo's. My mother and Hermione need care as well," Malfoy said.

Harry nodded. "Lead the way."

x x x

Hermione shifted under the starchy white sheets, feeling slightly restless. She had insisted that she was fine, but Harry and Ron had insisted back that she have the mediwitches look over her. The elderly mediwitch who had received her said, save for a few scratches and slight malnourishment from her brief captivity, Hermione was fine. Hermione had then felt triumphant and demanded to be released, but Harry and Ron had coaxed the mediwitch into keeping Hermione overnight for observation, despite Hermione's protests.

While she knew they had her best interests at heart, she also knew they knew she hated being stuck in a bed, kept out of the loop. Which is where she was now. She had been in this room for hours now without any information about what was happening. After they had left Malfoy Manor, Hermione had lost track of Draco. He had disappeared down another hall with his mother in tow.

Draco's fate hung in the balance. Hermione bit her lip, remembering the events of that day. So much had happened, and as she went over them in her head, everything felt a bit like a blur. The moments had inched by, and yet… Now it was all over.

He had broken his probation. No, Hermione mentally shook her head. That… that was almost a relief compared to what she thought he might do. What he nearly did. Would he have killed her? In that brief moment before Draco uttered the incantation, Hermione had, for the first time, experienced complete uncertainty in him. She didn't know what he was going to do. She didn't have that faith that he loved her enough to do what was right.

But now that he had, she was still unsure of whether or not that faith had been restored.

Knock knock. Hermione's head turned toward the door.

"Yes?"

The door opened slightly. Through the crack, a familiar redhead stuck her head through. "Can I come in?" Ginny asked.

Hermione hesitated briefly before smiling and nodding the affirmative. Ginny pushed through the door and shut it quietly behind her. She walked across the room and took the chair right by Hermione's bedside.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm all right," Hermione replied. "Honestly? I don't think I need to be here, but Harry and Ron basically bribed the nurses into keeping me here overnight."

"They're just being overprotective," Ginny said. "You know how they can be."

"I do," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "It's a bit frustrating."

Ginny smiled. "They mean well." After a moment's pause, she added, "They always have, you know."

Hermione wasn't sure how to respond. She had known this conversation was coming. She had played it out many times in her head already, and each time, she had run out of things to say by the time they reached this part. What could she say? That she understood? No – that would merely justify the terrible thing they had done, that she endorsed the route they had chosen. That she was angry and never wanted to see them again? But neither was true. They had been her family for so long, and no matter what they had done or would do, they were a part of her. Perhaps, then, that she forgave them? But her heart wasn't quite ready or sure…

"We were stupid." Ginny said plainly, cutting through Hermione's whirlwind of thoughts. "Three years ago – what we did. It was stupid."

Ginny sighed and looked down, her hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Hermione could see the tired lines under Ginny's eyes.

"What Ron did," Ginny continued firmly, "was abominable. And that Harry and I covered it up – unforgiveable. So I won't insult you with saying I'm sorry, Hermione, even though I'm sorrier than you could ever imagine. Because I know it goes far beyond that. We stole away a part of you and let you live without knowing the truth. Nothing we could do could ever make that up or give you those three years back. I suppose we deluded ourselves with the belief that we were doing what was best for you."

"You were wrong." Hermione was surprised at how angry and cruel her voice sounded. It was then she knew, truly, how angry she had been.

Ginny smiled bitterly. "I know," she said quietly.

"And you knew it, at the time," continued Hermione. She was sitting up a little straighter now as her words gained momentum. "You knew what you were doing was wrong, that it wouldn't have been what I wanted. No matter how much Draco hurt me, I wouldn't have wanted that – him – erased. And even a few days ago, when you knew I didn't know – you still acted as if you were right."

"Like you said," Ginny said softly, "I was wrong."

Hermione sat there, stunned. It wasn't much like Ginny to admit she was wrong.

"I was angry that you'd leave Ron and Aiden for Malfoy whom I still believed to be a traitor. I let my prejudices get in the way. And now I see that I was wrong in every possible way about Malfoy, and that his only crime three years ago was that he was confused."

So here it was. The moment Hermione had known would come, and she wasn't sure which road to take. She had spent so long being furious at Harry, Ron, and Ginny, at what they did – what they had taken away from her. Many times in her mind, she had spurned their disingenuous pleas for forgiveness, but never had Hermione imagined this humble plea. Ginny had gone far beyond what Hermione had ever imagined she would have been willing to do. There was no air of superiority like there had been a few days ago. And there was no rage at what they had called Hermione's betrayal. No – there was only open vulnerability and sincerity.

The part of her whose pride was hurt, the part that wanted to hold out, was slowly disintegrating. She could scornfully reject Ginny's apology. It was completely within her right. And she had the power to hurt them as much as she had been hurt.

But what was the use?

Hermione now knew then that all her practice runs of what she would say to Ginny when she saw her again had been in vain. Girding herself for war and the moment when she would have that opportunity to hurt Ron, Harry, and Ginny had only made her angrier and more hateful. And that – anger and hate – were the very last things that were needed at this moment.

"Well, to be fair," Hermione said measuring her words carefully, "he's still confused."

Ginny looked up quickly, obviously taken aback by Hermione's response, but when she saw the look in Hermione's eyes, Ginny laughed.

The sound of Ginny's laughter broke down whatever was left of the wall separating the two of them, and Hermione felt as if a huge weight was suddenly lifted off her shoulders.

"I've missed you, Hermione." Ginny's eyes were sparkling with held back tears. "Things… things just haven't been right. And I know they'll never be the same again, but I'm just hoping after this we can all…" Ginny's voice trailed off.

"I know," Hermione said. "I hope so, too. This – this is a start."

Ginny smiled at her and reached out for Hermione's hand, clasping it gently in hers. Hermione took her other hand and rested it on Ginny's, returning Ginny's smile. For a while, the two girls sat in the comforting silence shared by two friends who finally understood each other.

"So I'm sure you've been preoccupied with other things," Ginny said slowly, "but in case you've forgotten, Harry and I are marrying in a week."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really, Gin? You'd think I'd forget that? Even if I had wanted to, it was plastered on every newspaper and tabloid."

Ginny sniggered. "Right. Well, anyway, what I was meaning to say is – if you still wanted to… I'd love for you to be my matron of honour."

"Oh, Gin, of course."

x x x

Draco sat outside his mother's room, his elbows resting on his knees and his body leaned forward. She was all right, they told him. Her injuries were minor. She'd live.

Thank Merlin for that, he supposed.

Now he sat alone, in the drafty halls of the hospital. Trying his damndest not to think about what he couldn't help but keep replaying in his head. Draco felt the dread growing in his stomach when he saw Harry walking down the hall towards him. Draco kept his eyes cast down at the floor in front of him as Harry neared. Harry sat in the seat right next to Draco, not looking at him nor saying a single word. He sat there silently for a few brief moments.

"How is your mother?"

The words startled Draco slightly as he had not expected Harry to say anything so soon, least of all to inquire after his mother. He collected himself quickly and cleared his throat. "She is recovering. The mediwizard say she has a few wounds, but nothing severe. She will stay the night and most probably be allowed to return home tomorrow."

Harry nodded. After a moment's pause, he spoke again. "Your father is alive. Barely, but he is breathing."

Draco nodded, unsure of whether or not he was glad. A few hours ago, he had wanted his father dead. Gone. His existence erased. But now, a few hours later, the heat of the moment was gone, and Draco no longer felt that burning desire to see Lucius's life ended. Out of his life? Yes. But dead?

Harry measured Draco's response and gave him a wry smile. "Of course, none of us are all too certain about our feelings regarding that bit of news." When Draco failed to respond, Harry cleared his throat. "I'm here of course, to discuss the incident regarding his break-in at Malfoy Manor."

Draco stared at him dumbly, his heart dropping faster than a freefalling ton of bricks. This was it.

"When I report this incident to the Ministry tomorrow," Harry said quietly, but with obvious certainty, "I will tell them that Lucius Malfoy sustained several serious injuries from his escape from Azkaban which were later aggravated and made worse when he first kidnapped Hermione and then later accosted you and your mother at Malfoy Manor – which he entered illegally. I will tell them that you did your best and acted honourably to protect two innocent hostages until Ron and I arrived and were able to incapacitate Lucius. In the crossfire, Lucius somehow managed to attain certain wounds of unknown origin. Perhaps one of his spells backfired and landed on him."

Draco's jaw almost dropped to the floor. Harry was all but telling him that he planned to lie to the Ministry about Draco's use of the Dark Arts. In his anger and fury, Draco had allowed his emotions get the better of him and he had cast the vilest spell he could think of. Secumseptra had come out of his mouth before he could even control the urge. But the curse was Dark and forbidden by his probation. Foolishly, Draco had done it anyway. Breaking probation would have sent Draco back to Azkaban, something Draco had assumed that Harry would have done with relish. But here, given that golden opportunity…

"I don't understand." Draco was still staring. "You have this chance to lock me up again. You would jump at a chance to do that. So why?"

In very carefully chosen words, Harry said, "I'm doing what I should have done three years ago. That is – giving you the benefit of the doubt. Three years ago, I lied to throw you into Azkaban because I let my feelings cloud my better judgment. I lied about your involvement in the Order of the Phoenix and your loyalty and marred your name and reputation. That lie cost you more than just three years of your life. It was wrong. This – what I'm doing now – this is right. It doesn't undo what has been done, but it's something of a start."

"But the blood, the mess – the other Aurors will know once they take a look at the scene. Aren't Kingsley and the others there right now?"

"Let me worry about that," Harry said firmly. "I'll take care of it."

Silence.

"Thank you," Draco finally managed to get out. Still, disbelief surged through his mind. Was this real?

Harry gave him a crooked smile. "Don't thank me," he said. "I owed you one, big time."

Draco laughed dryly. "So we're even now?"

"More or less." Harry shrugged. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Turning his head slightly, he looked at Draco sitting next to him. "You know, three years ago, I shouldn't have given up on you so quickly."

"You saw what you saw." Draco pressed his arms tightly to his sides, trying to calm himself. "If I were you, I'd have come to the same conclusion."

Harry shook his head. "No. I knew better. Dumbledore trusted you, and so should have I. He trusted Snape completely, even when everyone else turned their backs on Snape."

"Well, sorry to say it Potter, but you're no Dumbledore."

"No, I guess not." Harry chuckled dryly.

Draco shrugged, trying to remain indifferent. "It was war. I had a bad track record. What else were you supposed to think?"

"I was supposed to think that things aren't always what they seem. And I knew. I knew it wasn't so simple, or so clean cut. I think somewhere I wanted to believe…" Harry leaned back. "Look, what I'm trying to say is… I'm sorry."

Draco was slightly stunned. He had not expected that. "Ah."

"We were almost friends three years ago," Harry continued, "but…"

"Potter, I don't think we can ever be chums."

"Maybe not," conceded Harry. "But – we can be friendly. We can start there."

Draco paused a beat. "Perhaps," he finally conceded.

Harry smiled warmly at him. "I don't believe I ever thanked you for saving Hermione's life. So thank you, Draco."

"It was nothing," Draco mumbled. "I did nothing."

"No – that's not true. I don't know what happened in that room there. I don't ever care to know, unless you want to tell me. But I can guess. And I can tell you had to make a difficult decision in there." Harry stared straight ahead. "And this time, you made the right one."

"But three years ago…"

"That doesn't matter anymore," Harry said. "You made a mistake then… but you've changed from that person you were three years ago."

Draco nodded, his body beginning to relax. His mind was still spinning.

"How is Hermione?" he managed to utter.

Harry looked at him. "She's doing fine. She's staying over night for observation but will be released tomorrow." Harry stood up. "Come. I'll take you to her room. I'm sure she'll be wanting to see you."

"No."

Now it was Harry's turn to stare at Draco blankly. "No?"

"I… I don't think that would be wise."

"Malfoy, I …"

"No, Harry." Draco's voice was quiet but firm. "Too much has happened. I don't – No. I just can't. Not right now."

"Are you sure? I really think you should see her."

Draco was silent. "I am sure."

Harry shook his head. "You're being thick. But all right. Well, is there anything you'd like me to tell her for you, then? Until you do see her."

"No." Draco sat back down. "No, not at all."

"Nothing?"

Draco bobbed his head slightly, indicating the affirmative. Harry sighed.

"After all the two of you have been through, you're really going to just let it be like this?"

"I don't feel like explaining to you, Potter," Draco said, with a bit of edge in his voice.

"Fine," Harry said. He threw up his arms, signaling his surrender. "I can't force you to talk to her. But you should, Malfoy. For both your sakes."

Draco watched wordlessly as Harry walked down the hallway, his form getting smaller and smaller in the distance until he vanished around the corner. Then, he remained there, staring down the empty hall in silent wonder.

AN: Thanks for reading. :) Review if you like.