Chapter Seventeen

Sorry for the delay. Life is busy. Not so many reviews for the last couple of chapters, would be interested to see what people want to happen and whether I'm moving through the story too fast. Enjoy this new offering. As always, JKR is the real chosen one.

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Hermione watched in amusement as the large crowd of Hogwarts students – mostly Gryffindors – stared at the blond boy in their midst with something akin to astonishment. When Dobby had apparated them here directly to the Room of Requirement, a great cheer had erupted from the students gathered there, welcoming their hero Harry Potter back home. Their beaming faces had left her feeling stunned. She knew things would be bad at Hogwarts this year with Death Eaters acting as teachers now, but Neville in particular looked like he'd been beaten to a pulp. There was a sense of weariness to them all that made her chest ache with sympathy. But at the same time an edge of stubbornness hung over them; a determination that they wouldn't be defeated. And it seemed as though Hogwarts had responded magnificently. The room was equipped with everything they needed, including hammocks and cushions everywhere, spell books and a cauldron bubbling with something that smelt divine in one corner.

But the elated mood had slowly faded as the occupants of the room became aware that the infamous Draco Malfoy was standing slightly behind the golden trio. To Hermione he looked quite nervous and sheepish, but she knew that to anyone else who didn't know him well, they would only see the haughty façade. There was a sort of awkward silence before somebody spoke up. Unsurprisingly it was Seamus Finnegan who pointed a finger towards the Slytherin with a look of disgust and confusion.

"What the bloody hell is Malfoy doing here?"

Hermione exchanged a glance with her friends, but it was ultimately Harry who gave a self-conscious shrug and faced the mob of students squarely.

"He's with us. He's helping."

"What, like he helped Dumbledore?"

Hermione's pulse quickened at the accusation. She recognised the beady, sharp eyes of Zacharias Smith and she glared at him.

"Look, a lot's happened the last few months. You're just going to have to accept it," Harry insisted firmly, and she felt a wave of affection for him. But the Hufflepuff boy just looked poisonous.

"What? Accept a Slytherin? Not likely. They're all rotten!"

Hermione was clenching her hands into fists. She hadn't wanted to hit somebody so badly in ages. Not since third year anyway. But his stupid pasty face, covered in zits and twisted into a snarl just made her palms itch. She was ready to yell something at the boy when a surprising voice beat her to it.

"Oh shut it, Zacharias you tosser!"

Their little group looked over at Ron in surprise. It was totally out of the blue for him to jump up in Malfoy's defence. Her shock was palpable, but he was staring at Smith fiercely, his face flushed and red with anger. She glanced over at Draco and saw he was looking just as baffled at the strange turn of events. Her lip twitched. As the tension in the room slowly faded, Ron shot her a look that was almost guilty and she could read him instantly. He had always been so obvious with his emotions; every little thing painted on his face. In his own clumsy way he was trying to make amends. Ever since the night they had been captured at Malfoy manor, where they had almost been killed and the efforts of Draco and Dobby had saved them, his attitude had undergone a shift. It was subtle at first, but Hermione noticed it. He was quieter, more thoughtful. She had a sneaking suspicion that he had realised that, given the unpredictable nature of war, he didn't want to risk losing her friendship. Even if he did have a crush on her, they had been friends first and that was more important than any other petty jealousies or resentment.

At that moment, all thoughts of outrage about Malfoy gave way to a shared amusement among the crowd as Ginny Weasley pushed through the masses, launching herself into Harry's arms.

"Ginny!" he cried out happily as her fiery hair whipped around them both and they clutched at each other tightly, neither willing to let go.

Hermione sidled closer to Draco and secretively took his hand, giving it a squeeze. He darted a curious glance at her but she just smiled softly.

"It's good to be back," she whispered and he nodded in understanding.

"Maybe we can slip off to the hospital wing at some point-" he muttered with a devilish smirk, "I have some unfinished business with you there."

Hermione chuckled, but quickly sobered when Harry once more addressed the crowd, seeking information about an artefact belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw. She let out a deep breath.

It had been surprisingly easy to break into the castle. Now they just had to find and destroy a horcrux.

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Draco was concealed in a dark alcove somewhere near Ravenclaw tower. He had snuck up here behind Potter and the Lovegood girl, disillusioned and buried in the shadows to offer extra protection if they needed it. He was supposed to create a commotion if anyone came his way, to warn Potter to hide himself while the boy searched for evidence of the missing horcrux. So far there had only been an eerie silence permeating the tower. As if the castle was holding its breath and waiting for what was coming. And Draco had no doubt that this was going to turn bad at some point soon. If the Dark Lord was aware of what the golden trio was doing, it was only a matter of time before they clashed here at Hogwarts. He tapped his foot impatiently on the stone floor. Although he knew he shouldn't want to ever hold Hermione back, he was secretly glad that she was still safely protected in the Room of Requirement. She and Ron were waiting for the other members of the Order of the Phoenix who had been summoned to prepare for the possibility of a conflict. They would coordinate things from there.

It had been Hermione who had suggested he accompany Potter and Lovegood. She had worried about the reaction of certain Order members if they came upon him here at Hogwarts. Given his controversial escape from headquarters, there might be some lingering bitterness between them. Draco personally wanted them to dare try and aggravate him now that he had his wand. He'd hex them in such nasty ways they would beg for forgiveness.

His dark musings were interrupted by the slight creaking of a door nearby. Draco held his breath but there was no further noise to accompany it. He was still wary, however, and he couldn't ignore the prickling feeling on the back of his neck that told him someone was nearby. Knowing that his instincts were usually good, Draco raised his wand to send a nearby suit of armour stumbling to the ground, but before he could cast the charm, a long fingered hand reached out suddenly from the darkness.

Draco felt his heart plummet, pounding against his ribs. The spidery hand tightened its grip and pushed him deeper into the alcove until he was completely separate from the hallway beyond. He went to hex his assailant in his panic, but froze when the moonlight cast its soft glow over the features of the person. He was still frozen when the disillusionment charm was abruptly cancelled and he stared up in shock at the dark obsidian eyes of his former professor.

Because right there in front of him loomed the ghostly figure of Severus Snape.

"Draco," the greasy haired man sneered down at him suspiciously, and he became aware that the circulation in his wrist was being cut off. His fingers were going numb but still the man held on, "What the devil are you doing here?"

He blinked dumbly for a few seconds before swallowing the pained lump in his throat.

"Snape…I…I'm just-"

"You'd better have a damn good explanation boy."

He glared at his former mentor and tore his arm away.

"I'm here on the Dark Lord's orders. To check up on you," he told the lie smoothly, trying to hold a contemptuous expression on his face. He had no idea where Snape's loyalties would fall in this confrontation. He had always had his doubts about where Snape stood, even after the murder of Albus Dumbledore.

"Nice try, Draco. But you can't lie to me."

"I'm not lying-"

"You've been missing for months now."

He licked his lips and felt his hands shaking, palms sweaty.

"I was captured. But I escaped," he stammered, knowing that it was useless. Snape had an uncanny ability to read truth and lies in somebody's eyes. He was an expert in legilimency; he seemed to be able to read minds without even needing to cast the spell. And now he was glaring angrily at the younger man, his lips thin and white with fury. Before he knew it a wand was pressed to his cheek, its point digging into his skin.

"Tell me the truth. You disappeared in the middle of a small skirmish. I heard you weren't even injured. You weren't under serious attack. You could have got away."

"So?"

"So I need you to be honest with me. There's no use pretending. I know for a fact you surrendered to the Order of the Phoenix. Just like I know you have feelings for Hermione Granger. And you've been living somewhere with her alone for several weeks."

Draco's jaw actually dropped open in shocked horror. He had no idea how Snape had come by all this information. He felt a clenching of terror in his stomach. He instantly closed his eyes shut tightly, fearing that Snape had read his mind through eye contact.

"Don't bother, Draco. I don't need to read your mind."

He squinted them open slightly, seeing Snape staring at him with a hint of wry amusement.

"But how…"

Snape shrugged, a gesture that looked strangely awkward on his skinny figure.

"Let's just say I'm friends with the portrait of a former headmaster who has his own means of gaining information."

Draco frowned at the explanation, but then remembered Hermione mentioning something about a big picture frame taking up too much room in her small beaded bag. He wondered if the two were connected.

"What are you going to do about it?" he snarled at the older man, facing him square on and looking coldly up at him. Snape let out a couple of quick breaths as he contemplated him.

"I'm going to help you."

The answer surprised him. His eyebrows shot up on his forehead as he tilted his head curiously to the side.

"Help me…" he repeated slowly, as if not quite understanding the words.

"Yes. We have more in common than you realise."

Draco just stared at him dubiously, remaining silent until Snape saw the need to continue and explain himself.

"I knew it as soon as I saw you take that locket from Miss Granger the night of the events on the Astronomy tower."

Draco cursed quietly, knowing that he had looked extremely odd doing that right in front of his professor that night. It must have come across as very strange indeed.

"Why didn't you say something?"

A slightly sad tinge of remorse entered the professor's black eyes.

"It was better left unspoken. But it was clear to me then that you…had some kind of connection to Granger…"

Draco nodded reluctantly. Seeing real sensitivity in his former teacher's eyes he didn't feel so concerned about admitting it now.

"I'm in love with her," he confessed in a low voice. It felt supremely awkward to be saying such a thing to the normally harsh, dour man in front of him. But honesty seemed the best option right now, "Severus, I never wanted this. I never wanted to be like him. Like Lucius."

"I know, Draco," Snape replied quietly. He reached out and placed an icy hand on the younger man's shoulder in what was probably the most affectionate gesture he'd ever received from the man.

"So you're not going to turn me over to the Dark Lord?" he asked with a sense of trepidation. Snape's eyes narrowed and he stared fiercely out the window near them.

"No. Draco I wanted to tell you…"

He paused for such a long time that Draco thought he wouldn't say anymore. Then those black eyes turned to meet his again. They appeared more open than he had ever seen them.

"I'm not what you think I am. There is more happening than anyone realises. But you can help me."

Draco shuffled on his feet, his curiosity piqued.

"How?"

"Are you with Potter? Is he here?"

He hesitated for a long time, wondering what the right course of action was. But this wasn't exactly a new revelation for him. Draco had always suspected Snape of not serving the Dark Lord as loyally as he appeared. Despite some conflict between them in recent years, he had always trusted the Head of Slytherin. The man had always tried to protect him, even against himself sometimes. So he grit his teeth and made a decision.

"Yes. He's here," he confirmed finally with a brusque nod. Snape looked almost relieved at the news.

"Good. I need you to do something for me…"

"What is it?"

Snape's eyes darted around the dark space, a look of genuine fear on his features. He leaned in closer, flicking his wand to cast even more protective charms on the space than he had no doubt already done earlier.

"I am probably not going to survive what's coming…"

Draco's heart skipped unpleasantly at the callous way the man announced the likelihood of his own death. He blanched and stared at Snape in horror.

"What do you mean?"

Snape sighed and a muscle clenched in his jaw as one oily strand of hair fell across his face.

"The Dark Lord is under the incorrect assumption that the wand he is using belongs to me."

Draco was confused. It didn't make any sense to him at all.

"Why?"

"It was Dumbledore's wand. He stole it, but it's not working properly for him. So he has concluded that because I killed Dumbledore, it must therefore have passed its ownership onto me."

"Does wand lore really work like that?"

"In a sense. However I was not the one who actually defeated the headmaster…"

Snape let his words trail off, gazing significantly at the blond boy in front of him. Draco took a moment to absorb what he was saying and his breath caught.

"Me? You mean I own Dumbledore's wand?"

"As far as I know. The headmaster was a little vague on some of the details when we spoke about it. But the important thing is that the Dark Lord believes killing me will fix the problem."

Draco's mind was spinning with information, not the least of which was the fact that Snape appeared to have discussed everything with his supposed murder victim at some point in the past.

"So you are… and I might…"

"I need you to deliver a message for me in the event that I am killed," Snape cut in with a tense voice. Draco shifted from one foot to the other, standing straighter and peering up at the older man in some outrage.

"Why don't you run then? Leave him and come with me. I can explain things to Hermione…"

"No, Draco. This is the part I must play," the professor interrupted him more firmly, his voice urgent now, "I have accepted my role and so will you." Draco shook his head but fell silent, his throat convulsing a little as he tried to swallow but found that he couldn't. The older man continued, "Here is a vial of my memories. When it appears as though everything is reaching a final confrontation and the snake is gone, you must give this to Potter. Promise me."

Draco numbly reached out and took the vial, but found that he couldn't speak as the obsidian eyes of his mentor stared down at him.

"Promise me, Draco!" he demanded fiercely, just as the sound of voices started growing from the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. Clearly people had gotten past him without him being able to raise a warning, based on the commotion that was going on.

"I promise," he said quietly, slipping the vial of silvery threads into the pocket of his trousers and reaching up to grip Snape's shoulder worriedly, "But you need to promise me you will try and stay safe. Tell him about your theory that I own the wand if you have to. I'll be alright. I can stay out of his way more easily. Just don't be a suicidal Gryffindor please."

Snape rolled his eyes slightly but gave a curt nod.

"I'll see what I can do."

It was at that moment, before they could say anything further to each other, that they heard the sound of Harry Potter firing a spell at one of the Death Eaters who was stationed here as a supposed teacher. One of Carrow twins if his memory served him correctly. The shattering of stone into rubble was what alerted them, both spinning to stare at the opening to their alcove. The voice of Minerva McGonagall joined in then, and Draco was surprised to hear it here of all places in her old stomping ground where she had not been in almost a year. That must mean that the Order had arrived. Draco and Snape exchanged a look. It communicated more than just goodbye. It was something shared on a deeper level - two men who had been driven to the brink of despair by their pasts, trapped by circumstances beyond their control and desperate to escape. As he straightened and gripped his wand, preparing to leave, Snape shot him one last glance. It was intense, a spark kindling in the black depths of his eyes.

"You were stupid to come up here alone, Draco," he scolded almost mournfully, his tone agonised, "Don't let her out of your sight for even a second…"

And with that he had swept into the hallway to confront Potter and McGonagall, playing his role to perfection once more. Draco was left with those parting words ringing in his head. He assumed the man was referring to Hermione, but it made him pause, a troubling twist of nausea in his stomach. It sounded so personal, so heart wrenchingly real. As if Snape knew what it was like to suffer true loss.

And bloody hell, he was absolutely right too. Draco didn't give a damn what the Order had to say or who was there to watch them. He was going to return to Hermione this instant and refuse to leave her side until it was all over.

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Hermione's gaze darted frantically around the entrance hall. Rubble was flying everywhere and the sounds of terrified screams reverberated around the high ceiling. Worst of all, there was a pungent smell permeating the whole area, like burning flesh. Her chest had a searing pain inside it; partly from the furious thrumming of adrenalin coursing through her and partly from the dust she was inhaling with every breath.

Her greatest worry right now was for protecting her friends and Draco. The four of them were standing back to back in a close huddle, each facing a different direction so that they were fighting on all sides. But despite the cleverness of their plan, it certainly wasn't an easy position to be in. Not only was she battling with the infamous Harry Potter standing on her right hand side, but it had become painfully clear to the other Death Eaters that Draco Malfoy had betrayed them. He was back to back with the Chosen One, obviously fighting for the other side. The anger and violence that this triggered was overwhelming. Masked figures were yelling obscenities at them and Draco was probably dealing with the brunt of the curses aimed their way.

Hermione was out of breath and her arms and legs shaking with exhaustion when Harry sidled closer to speak with to her over his shoulder. He had to yell to be heard above the cacophony of noise in the hall.

"We need to get the hell out of here," he called out.

"Bloody right we do!" She heard Draco respond on her left between heavy breaths. She had been listening to him cursing vehemently as he threw hexes around, and it had sounded like he was swearing at his wand in frustration.

"We need to find the snake," Harry reminded them.

"Can you see where it is? Can you see into his mind?"

Harry groaned slightly.

"We need to go somewhere quiet."

"Over there…"

Ron pointed towards a narrow hallway that led in a roundabout way towards the northern tower and the group started to slowly make their way in that direction. With a pang of sympathy, Hermione could hear Draco having hoarse coughing fits. She knew that he had suffered the most from the fiendfyre that had driven them from the Room of Requirement. The black, noxious smoke had invaded his lungs and he was still in some degree of pain, his breaths rasping and uneven.

She also knew that he was feeling devastated by what had occurred shortly after they had found the diadem of Ravenclaw. He had tried so hard to reason with Crabbe, but the boy had gone completely mad. The hefty Slytherin was consumed by a dark, evil rage. And not even his old house companion had been able to get through to him.

But at least they had been able to save Goyle. The poor boy had looked so confused, so totally lost that Hermione had actually felt truly sorry for him. He was still a lumbering idiot, but he didn't seem to want to hurt anyone. Draco had insisted on flying back to save him from the climbing flames, choking and spluttering on smoke but ultimately rescuing him from certain death. Sprawled out and recovering in the hallway outside afterwards, Goyle had stammered out his lack of understanding about what was going on. He had almost instinctively turned to Draco to give him orders, probably out of habit from years of being one of his burly bodyguards. Draco had told him in no uncertain terms to get the hell out of Hogwarts while he still could.

Hermione's heart had gone out to Goyle. He had just watched his old friend die horrifically and now he was afraid and alone. But he had gratefully accepted Draco's instructions, apparating away clumsily with a small sigh of relief.

As the four of them rounded the corner and entered the hallway, Hermione quickly cast some wards to seal off the entrance, plunging them into an eerie silence. Draco collapsed onto the floor immediately, rubbing at his chest with wracking coughs and nursing a burnt hand. The attacks on him had been brutal out there.

"They seem to really hate you," Ron commented mildly, looking down at the blond Slytherin boy in morbid curiosity.

"Yeh no shit" he replied in a croaky voice, "I'm out there fighting next to Harry fucking Potter. I'm just glad that Lucius hasn't made an appearance. But then that son of a bitch is probably snivelling somewhere behind the Dark Lord's robes, too cowardly to do anything except kiss his arse."

Ron snorted, reluctantly amused despite himself. They all turned to watch Harry for a moment, but saw that he was crouching down with his eyes gently closed, brows furrowed as he immersed himself into Voldemort's thoughts. He was totally absorbed in his task. While they were waiting, Hermione knelt down next to Draco, checking him over with a worried gaze.

"Are you alright?" she murmured quietly, and he nodded once in response.

"I'll be fine, as long as breathing isn't too important" he croaked, giving her a wry smile. She returned it, lifting her wand and casting a few simple charms to clean his lungs and air passage. As she did, he took a deep gasp of air in, a look of relief on his face.

"Much better," he assured her, sounding slightly less strained. She beamed at him, but then shivered slightly as he reached up and brushed his fingers over her cheek. His thumb ran just across a long gash in her skin and he leaned forward to place a small kiss there.

A strangled coughing sound made them both jolt away from each other, totally forgetting that Ron was standing right next to them. She shot a guilty look towards her friend, who was staring at the wall and looking rather green.

"Sorry," she mumbled, rising to her feet. She darted a quick glare back down at Draco, trying to warn him not to look quite so cocky. His smug smile certainly wouldn't help the situation.

Before the tension could shift at all, Harry was returning to them with a convulsive jerk of his body. He blinked his green eyes and stared around blearily as he got his bearings.

"Well?" Hermione asked him eagerly, seeing that determination in his eyes he often carried.

"The snake is with Voldemort," he said in a strangely calm voice, not afraid to say his name now that the taboo no longer seemed to matter. Not with a battle raging around them, "He's protecting it in some kind of shield. He knows we're going to try and kill it."

"How do we get to it, then?" Ron asked with a frown, his skin so pale it made his freckles stand out clearly on his face.

"I don't know," Harry replied, staring almost blindly at the opposite wall, "We could try and sneak up on it. They're in the Shrieking Shack…"

"He probably doesn't know about the secret passageway," Hermione reminded him with a slight shrug. Harry nodded numbly, before his gaze sharpened and he turned to stare directly at Draco.

"Snape was there. He was talking about you."

Hermione shot a confused look down at Draco. But to her surprise he didn't seem at all phased by this revelation. If anything he was looking thoughtful and he was nodding. But before Harry could elaborate on the reason for this, a shrill sound echoed around them and the four of them winced as a cold, high voice pierced the air, echoing around their heads and instantly creating a sharp headache behind her eyes.

"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

As the voice faded away, Hermione's eyes sought out her friend instantly. She looked at him with a sense of dread as sickness twisted in her stomach. Harry's face was stony and grim. It made her dread increase, knowing the agony and the guilt he felt when people made sacrifices for him. There was a genuine possibility that he would do something very noble and very stupid.

"Harry no-" she began, before emotion forced her voice to trail away and she felt that stinging in her eyes that signaled tears. She wanted to beg him not to try and be too brave, she wanted to throw herself at him and hold him, keeping him with her. But before she could say anything, her eyes were drawn to the blond head next to her that had finally sat forward, looking equally serious as he reached into his pocket with a shaking hand. Draco drew out a small glass vial slowly, its contents shimmering and silvery. He inched forwards, holding it out in front of Harry in the palm of his hand and swallowing visibly.

"Well, Potter," he murmured, "I think it's probably time to give you this…"

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Oops. Another cliffhanger. Please leave reviews! They always inspire me to write faster (I was probably too slow with this update, my apologies!) Looking forward to hearing from you.