Chapter Nineteen
Let's settle that mean cliff-hanger nice and quickly shall we? Story rounding up now but still not confident about my ending... As always, all the beautiful characters belong to JKR.
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Lucius did not bother hesitating for even a moment, the face of his only son holding no sway over him now.
A burst of green erupted from his wand.
It was pointed straight at Hermione.
Draco launched himself to the side, thrusting his body against hers and knocking her to the ground. A searing heat rippled across the air above him, sending vibrations of dark, insidious magic crawling through his skin. He distantly heard Hermione gasp as she hit the stone floor, choking on her breath as she became winded. They both scrambled for a moment, each grasping their wands. He felt the humming of a ward wrapped around them and realised that she had cast a protective charm. Draco felt a trickle of relief, silently sending her a look of gratitude that she was so quick with her spells.
"Get up and meet your death, you useless piece of shit!"
Lucius's voice echoed surprisingly loudly around the vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall. It was a cold and chilling sound. Draco let his eyes dart around the large room briefly, but to his confusion nobody was waiting to help them. Then he saw why. A short distance away, Potter had evidently removed his invisibility cloak and was standing tall and proud, facing up to Voldemort with a strange sort of confidence. And standing by his side was Severus Snape, obsidian eyes blazing. His true loyalties were exposed at last and he was finally there beside Potter where he belonged. Voldemort looked positively white with fury.
In the next second, Draco's gaze quickly returned to the older Malfoy man before them. It was clear that they would get no help from anyone else. All eyes were drawn to the fight with Voldemort, a crowd gathering there in a haphazard circle. He felt Hermione's fingernails dig into his arm as she strengthened her protective shield, and he took a deep breath and started to rise slowly to his feet.
"Draco-" she muttered tentatively, voice still tight from how she had landed. He gave her hand a quick squeeze in reassurance before he held himself tall, facing his father head on for the first time in months.
"Put down your wand, Lucius," he said tightly, his own wand held out in a warning stance, "You've lost. Look around you. The Death Eaters are all dead or gone."
Lucius's jaw twitched as his lips turned almost blue from rage.
"Cowards and fools! I know what I must do."
Draco stared at him with disbelief.
"You would kill your own son?"
"Better dead than a disgrace to the name of Malfoy!"
Draco tightened his grip on his wand, feeling his palm moisten with sweat around the wood. He forced his teeth to grind together rather than give the older man the satisfaction of responding to his vile words. He thought of his mother, his poor fragile mother who could not bear to be part of such a life anymore. She had given up, fading away into nothingness. It gave him the anger he needed to throw his first curse at the man who had brought him into this world.
"Stupefy!"
Lucius flicked it away easily, laughing maniacally at the efforts of his son.
"Is that the best you've got?"
The hexes ricocheted back and forth between them, battering against the shield that Hermione was holding steady. Lucius was relentless. He was fighting to kill, throwing slashing curses and bombarding him with all manner of dark spells that would no doubt result in a slow and painful death. Draco was certainly not accustomed to this kind of fighting. Six years of patchy and sometimes completely useless lessons in Defence Against the Dark Arts had not prepared him for this. The sheer force of his father's fury drove his curses forwards, strengthening them and making them far more potent than they should have been. Draco felt his arm aching and becoming boneless, his wand shaking and weak inside his slippery hand.
Bloody…Potter…
He knew the scruffy haired menace had done something unusual to his wand! Something had changed the moment Potter disarmed him. It just wasn't working the same as it usually did. At that moment a streak of blue flames darted by him, close enough to singe his hair. Seeing the malicious gleam in his father's eye directed towards the curly haired girl near him, Draco quickly shuffled to the side, protecting Hermione with his body.
"You pathetic little mudblood lover," his father yelled at him as he advanced. And before Draco could react, a stinging curse was rippling through the shield and he felt a burning pain in his sternum, right across the old wound where Potter had torn him in two during sixth year. He tried to gasp, but the pressure in his chest was immense. With a faint tingling of horror, Draco became aware that his vision was swimming, a black haze descending on the room as his chest throbbed in agony. He felt himself falling; it felt like he was plummeting further and further into nothingness. He blinked rapidly but everything was becoming distant and the cacophony of sounds in the room faded to a mere echo.
One thing he did become cognisant of in that moment was the warm weight of arms encircling him. A soothing voice rang in his ear, begging him to be okay, pleading with him to stay awake, stay alert. Hermione lowered him gently to the floor. He could smell her perfume as a soft undertone to the pervasive scent of burning flesh and blood surrounding them. He felt the tip of her wand against his chest, a flinching pain he barely registered amidst the agony already there. He heard her low, chanting voice as she traced across his ribs, and the pain eased somewhat. Then there was a sort of numbness.
"Time to die, mudblood-"
Draco's body jerked at the words, his brain reminding him what he was supposed to be doing, screaming at him to get up, to protect, to fight.
Lucius…
He had suffered a blow, but Lucius was still a looming threat. And now his attention would turn to Hermione, whose only concern was protecting him.
Get up you bastard…
As his mind screamed these words, Draco forced his eyes open, jaw clenching and grinding in pain, and looked around. He saw Lucius towering there, wand raised and ready to strike the fatal blow. He saw a few loose curls draped across his cheek and forehead, revealing that Hermione was there sitting over him, cradling him to her chest to shield him from whatever was coming.
But then he noticed that Lucius had frozen. He was glaring in outrage at some point just above them, an expression of confusion on his features. Draco's eyes wearily slid up and he saw the new figure emerge from the soot and the dust. At first he thought it was Bellatrix, and believed for a split second that they were doomed. But that couldn't be right… Bellatrix had been fighting the Weasleys and she surely wouldn't leave Voldemort's side now. He pressed his eyes closed tightly for a second and opened them, trying to focus and understand what was happening.
"Stay the hell away from him," a familiar voice snarled, though it was in a tone he had not heard before; a fierce, protective growl. Lucius appeared totally bewildered. He gaped dumbly at the new assailant.
"You!" he exclaimed, a creeping sense of fear passing over his features.
Draco knew who it was then; the dark brown, almost black hair, the sunken eyes and pale delicate features. She exuded a cold, savage fury as she slowly raised her wand towards the blond man. Draco felt his own tingling of fear at the appearance of the woman, so fearsome and raw with power. He should have known that any member of the Black family, even an outcast, would be a sight to behold in battle. And Andromeda Tonks looked like she had been waiting all her life for this one single moment. Her soft, dull eyes were lit up like fireworks.
"This is for my sister…" she hissed, and then Draco was squinting his eyes half shut against the bright, flashing whoosh of a spell streaking through the air. The sound was followed almost instantly by the thud of a body as it crumpled to the stone floor, and he watched in horrified fascination at the sight he had been anticipating for many months.
Lucius was no more.
The steely grey eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling above. A shiver of relief passed through Draco, waking him from the numb pain that had consumed him.
His father was dead. And yet he felt a strange trickle of sadness; not for Lucius of course. That ship had sailed long again, leaving only bitterness and hatred. But for his mother. Narcissa had been gloriously avenged by her sister, and yet he wished she could have lived to breathe the fresh air of freedom and escape the toxic influence of her husband. He sent a quick thought to her, turning his face away from the sight of the blond man's body in front of him.
"Are you alright?"
Andromeda crouched down near them, her dark eyes wide with concern. She was trembling a bit, which didn't surprise him. Dark magic always left traces. But she was resilient, and she had saved his life. As he panted and struggled for breath, Draco nodded blearily. Hermione was still tracing her wand over his chest, and with every pass the pressure eased somewhat until he almost felt like he could draw in a lungful of air.
"Th…thank you," he stammered eventually in a hoarse voice. His aunt grasped his shoulder in an affectionate gesture, a melancholy smile cracking her lips.
"I'm very sorry, Draco," she murmured to him, "I know he was your father, but…"
He lifted his own hand to grab hers, giving it a squeeze and interrupting her.
"Don't. Please don't apologize for what you did. It was…right."
She hesitated, searching his face for any doubt, but then she nodded when she found only gratitude and peace there. Draco steadied himself with a deep breath and pushed himself into a seated position.
"Draco, you're still hurt-" Hermione began, her voice cracking with concern. He turned towards her, giving her a wry smile.
"Stop worrying, Gryffindor," he teased her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek through the layer of dust and grime caked on there, "You patched me up real good. But now I think there's somewhere else you should be…"
He pointed vaguely over to the other side of the hall where the circle of spectators stood, frozen with tension as Potter and the Dark Lord exchanged terse, meaningful words with one another. They were still circling one another like cats waiting to pounce. Hermione's face instantly turned white.
"Harry…" she whispered, and he gave her a nod of encouragement, letting her know without words that he was all right and that she was free to go to her friend. She stared at him and then before he knew what was happening she was planting a furious kiss on his mouth, a whimper of desperation escaping her lips before pulling away with a smile. With one last hurried kiss, Hermione immediately shot to her feet and flew across the room, dodging piles of rubble and what was probably a fair few bodies. Draco watched her go with a swelling of pleasure in his chest, burning underneath the lingering pain still there.
"She's a keeper, you know," Andromeda pointed out, giving him a slightly knowing smile as she helped him clamber to his feet.
"Oh don't worry," he assured her quietly, "I have absolutely no intention of letting her go."
And with that the aunt and nephew began to meander their way slowly towards the group, her supporting him as he walked with a tentative limp. He wondered if he should saying anything about Remus being dead, or seeing Tonks earlier, but he knew that it could wait. There would be time to mourn and gather families together later. For now it was nice to just sit back and watch Harry Potter, the boy who lived twice to finally take down that grotesque, snake faced bastard.
Which he did, approximately five minutes later…
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There was an odd, creeping silence that had descended over the castle in the late afternoon as dusk approached. Hermione shifted upright, pulling her woollen jacket closer around her. An unseasonably cold wind had picked up some time ago. In the calm after the battle, she had thought the gentle morning sunlight was strangely appropriate, like the picturesque dawn of a new era. But then the rain had come. And now she saw that this was far more suitable. It beat down upon the castle, washing away the dirt and blood as it cleansed their home and made everything fresh again.
It was cold, but nice. Like an icy drink of water at the end of a hot day.
The rain had not lessened the buzz of activity in the castle earlier. People had gathered in pockets, grieving for those who had been killed. Parents and families had been summoned. The might of the ministry had turned up, throwing its weight around before slinking back with its tail between its legs. Kingsley had swiftly taken charge, ridding the castle of any petty bureaucracy and declaring that Hogwarts was a place for those who fought and those who sacrificed, effectively getting rid of all the politicians as he tasked them with other responsibilities. The few key Order members who were not badly injured were ruthless and painstaking in identifying the bodies of Death Eaters. They knew it was vital to make a list of those unaccounted for, those who had fled. They would need to be tracked down by the aurors without a moment to lose.
Minerva had been instrumental in piecing things back together that morning. She was a tower of strength, calming down frantic children and facing all the madness with a dignity that Hermione envied. She was firm but kind, and nobody dared to argue with her when she gave instructions. It was just what they needed at that time.
Minerva had taken control of all the Hogwarts students, setting up a triage station to process everybody's injuries and assemble a team of healers. Hermione herself had worked tirelessly for hours, assisting Madam Pomfrey with some of the more serious cases. She had barely had a moment to herself since everything ended.
Eventually she had collapsed onto a makeshift cot in a little brewing wing off the main area. Her body was completely exhausted. She had fallen into a deep sleep, her mind a dreamy haze for what was probably an hour or two. A gentle kiss on her forehead had drifted into her consciousness during sleep. Draco's scent had been familiar, even in her dreams. He had spent much of the morning with Andromeda, giving her support as she sorted out the situation with Tonks and baby Teddy as well as helping Kingsley's men identify the Death Eaters. But despite that, he had still come to check up on her, placing a blanket over her shivering body and kissing her tenderly.
But now Hermione was awake and the blond boy was nowhere to be seen. She wished she could have tugged him onto the cot and curled up together, basking in his warmth. A yawn escaped her, but she couldn't bring herself to sleep again. Flashes of dark spells and screams had woken her, pulling her from nightmares that would probably never fully go away. And now there was just this sort of eerie silence. Obviously the hive of activity had eased, and people were starting to rest.
When another yawn threatened to overcome her, Hermione sighed quietly to herself and clambered out of the small cot. She stretched her spine with a few satisfying pops, before wandering aimlessly down the hallway in search of something to distract her. On her way she put her head through a number of curtains to make sure no one needed anything, but the entire hospital was soundly asleep. She wished it would come so easily to her.
As Hermione emerged from the castle and onto a rampart near the Hospital Wing, she noticed a familiar pale figure hunched over the railing nearby. His eyes were downcast and bloodshot, set against a white face sunken with misery.
"Hey Ron…" she murmured tentatively, coming to stand beside him and matching his posture, staring out over the grounds. A misty rain was drizzling over them both, but the red haired boy didn't even seem to notice.
"Hi," he said shortly, his voice somewhat hollow. There was an awkward pause as they both struggled with their mixed feelings and pain from the past few weeks. She shifted back and forth on her feet, feeling her mouth go dry as she contemplated him. Her heart skipped with sympathy when she saw the dried tracks of tears on his face.
"This is probably a stupid question but…" she paused and took a deep breath, "Are you alright?"
Ron snorted darkly, shaking his head with eyes that seemed to stare blindly into the distance.
"I don't know. It doesn't seem real, you know? As if it hasn't sunk in yet."
Hermione nodded, propping her chin on her hand.
"How's George doing?"
"Not sure," he replied heavily, "Dad took him home. It was like he was in some kind of coma. Wouldn't say a word, wouldn't even blink or acknowledge anyone."
Hermione felt her throat convulse painfully and she swallowed.
"I'm so sorry, Ron. Your poor family…"
Ron nodded curtly, almost imperceptibly, but when she reached out and placed her hand on his, he returned her grasp. They held each other for a long moment, giving and receiving comfort. And it felt nice, like old times. There was silence between them for what seemed like an age, before Ron twisted his body to face her properly. His cheeks were flushed and he couldn't quite meet her eye.
"I wanted to tell you that…" he paused, his voice choking on the words. He fell silent for a while, glaring at the skyline behind her before he spoke again, "I behaved like an idiot. I was a terrible friend. And I'm sorry."
"Ron-" she began, wanting to reassure him but not quite feeling ready to forgive him completely for everything that had happened just yet. Her voice was weak, but he held up a hand to stop her anyway.
"No, let me finish, please. I completely freaked out when I found out about you and…M…Malfoy," he struggled to say Draco's name, but the expression of resentment on his face had softened somewhat from what it used to be, "I was jealous. I guess I just always thought that you and I would get our act together somehow. I figured we would end up with each other. But I took advantage of you. I just assumed you would be waiting for me when I was ready, but I should have known someone else would come along and realise how bloody amazing you are. I hated him. And I hated you for not wanting me as much as I wanted you."
"Ron, you know I love you, right? You know I'll always be your best friend no matter what…"
"Yeh I know," he murmured, scratching the back of his neck self-consciously, "Which is why it was so stupid and cowardly of me to just run away that night with Harry. He didn't want to, but I insisted. And it was wrong of us. I've regretted it every day since, because your friendship is more important to me than anything else."
"Oh Ron…"
When a wave of emotion swept through her, Hermione leaned in the few centimetres between them and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. The ginger boy tugged her closer, holding her tightly in a bear hug. They stayed like that for a long time, until she felt the drizzle slowly soaking through her clothes and into her skin. She trembled a bit and pulled away. Ron was actually smiling slightly now, although it was fragile and his eyes still appeared haunted. He cocked his head to the side, giving her shoulder a little nudge.
"I also had to accept something very painful today."
"Oh? And what was that?"
Ron blushed.
"Malfoy's actually…well, I can't promise I'll ever like him or anything…but he's useful in a fight. And he's changed. A lot."
Hermione felt her lips twitch and then stretch into a grin. She stared at Ron in disbelief, but he was studiously looking at the scenery below and not meeting her gaze.
"He has changed," she agreed softly, "I think we all have."
"That's true. But I'm man enough to admit that I was wrong about him. He clearly didn't want to be a Death Eater. And he seems to care about you."
"He certainly does," she confirmed, answering his implied question with a tender smile, remembering the soft kiss placed on her forehead and the blanket draped around her shivering form as she slept earlier. Ron snorted and flushed, turning to lean on the stone railing once more.
"Alright, alright. But if he ever does anything to hurt you I will kick his ass."
Hermione chuckled, giving his shoulder a bump in return.
"Fair enough."
And the two friends stood there, side by side, for a long time after that, sharing a comfortable silence. The weight of their sorrow was heavy in the air, but every now and then their shoulders brushed and Hermione would let a little smile toy at her lips, thinking that maybe there was some hope there after all.
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Draco was awoken by a body wriggling under the sheets, nestling itself into the crook of his shoulder. His eyes fluttered wearily, but he didn't jolt up or even tense at the intrusion. He could tell from the scent of her hair and the soft skin pressing against him that it was Hermione. He smiled lethargically, wrapping a heavy arm around her waist.
"Finished for the night?" he drawled, running one hand lazily up and down her spine. Hermione hummed happily and snuggled closer.
"Yes. Madame Pomfrey insisted that I take a break."
"Good idea. Remind me to thank her…"
Draco placed a slow kiss on her collarbone, running his nose across the skin of her neck. He revelled in the whimper she released.
"You doing okay?" he asked, his voice muffled against her.
"Better. I spoke to Ron."
Draco stiffened a bit in concern, raising his head slightly.
"How did that go?"
"Surprisingly well. I think we might even salvage our friendship."
Draco just muttered quietly to himself, reserving the right to be sceptical about anything concerning that ginger haired moron. But he didn't voice his doubts. Weasley had just lost a brother. Not to mention the boy's former love was currently wrapped in his arms making little purring sounds of contentment. He could let sleeping dogs lie for now.
"Snape's gone," he told her instead, thinking back on his parting with the surly older man.
"Hmm? What do you mean?" she asked curiously but with a sleepy tone.
"He stayed long enough to help round up some Death Eaters and to identify the ones who's died. But I think all the hero worship was a bit much for him." He chuckled at the memory of a throng of students swamping the poor ex-headmaster. It seemed that everybody had just instantly transformed their opinions of him rather hastily. And, rather than being hated and reviled, he was now suddenly seen as some kind of romantic, Byronic hero swooping in to save the day and honour his lost love. What they'd failed to remember, however, was that, hero or not, he was still a callous bastard. He'd brushed all the fawning praise off with a look akin to disgust. He'd shared a few terse words of gratitude with Potter and Draco before vanishing with a crack. They'd watched the space where he'd disappeared for a moment before erupting into matching laughs, especially upon seeing the disappointed frown on Professor Trelawny's face.
"I can imagine," Hermione agreed, "He's almost as famous as Harry now."
"Oh don't worry. Your friend Potter seemed to do a pretty good job at keeping a low profile too. He kept popping up to speak with me from under that damned cloak all day. Scared me shitless more than once. Smug wanker."
He felt Hermione laughing, her shoulders shaking as she leaned up to kiss him gently on the lips.
"Admit it, you don't exactly hate him anymore."
Draco squirmed a bit, but her gaze was intent and he found himself blushing a bit when she placed another kiss on his jaw and then across to his ear.
"He's bearable, I suppose."
"Bearable?"
"Fine then… he's acceptable."
Hermione let out a pretty little giggle as she nipped at his earlobe.
"There. That wasn't so hard was it?"
He let out a throaty chuckle and slipped his arm further around her waist, pressing their bodies together more intimately and seeking out her lips for a thorough snogging. He'd much rather be kissing her than talking about Harry bloody Potter. When they finally emerged for air, he saw her smiling up at him and his heart clenched in wonder.
"What now?" she asked.
"Now we sleep, I suppose."
"No," she corrected gently, smile still very much in place, "I mean where do we go from here? What will you do now that it's over?"
Draco thought about it for a long time, but the answers were just out of reach, swirling around in a confusing jumble of plans, dreams and desires. Eventually he shrugged.
"I don't know. Anything, I suppose. For the first time in my life I'm actually free to do whatever I want."
He didn't think it was possible for Hermione to look any more beautiful than she did at that moment, her smile stretching into a grin that lit up the entire room and healing his broken soul.
"And what does Draco Malfoy want?" she asked in a slightly croaky voice. And this time he didn't have to think about it for even a second.
"I want to steal you away from here, take you back to that damn house in the valley and spend at least a year just ravaging you on that big old bed until we're both practically comatose from exhaustion and pleasure."
"Sounds…nice…" she whispered, her eyelashes fluttering as a pink flush spread across her cheeks. Draco sobered then, his smile dropping as he met her brown gaze with an intensity that he felt coursing through his entire body.
"And then, Hermione Granger, I'm going to build a life with you," he watched her gasp at his simple, meaningful words, but he powered on before she could interrupt, "I'm going to spend my life endeavouring to deserve you and to make you happy. That's what I want. Tell me you want that too."
The last desperate plea was said in a nervous whisper, his voice trembling as he waited for her response. And he didn't have to wait long.
"I want that more than anything."
And with those few words, Draco knew that his future was set in stone. And it brought him more happiness that he even knew a person could feel.
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Aw. Sorry it got a bit sappy there. It just felt like time for some fluff after all the death and despair. Going to finish up next chapter obviously with some kind of non-offensive epilogue. Let me know what you think please! Reviews are so very much appreciated and adored.