The music was almost deafening, it shook the walls of the warehouse rhythmically. Thump-thump, thump-thump. The echoing screech of an angle-grinder was barely audible under the force of the base. The steel glowed and sparks flew in all directions as it was brought down repeatedly.
Hermione leaned against the doorway, two cups of coffee in hand. She was dressed in a light nightgown, a bathrobe thrown over her shoulders. She gazed at Draco thoughtfully; the protective mask hid his face but the tell-tale silver-blonde hair was unmistakable. He was always so strong, brave, and yet at the same time… So Slytherin.
He was strange to say the least but Hermione knew now that what the world had seen before the war was not the real Draco Malfoy but what his father had forced him to show.
Seeing a break in his work, she gently placed one cup on the bench and then laid her hand on his shoulder. He lifted the protection mask off his face and smirked. He clicked the music off, and waited for the grinder to power down before placing it on the bench.
"Morning Hermione." Draco greeted, letting his eyes wonder over her body. Even in that old nightgown she looked stunning. "Are you feeling any better?" She just nodded, not speaking. "Sorry about the early start, but I wanted to get this finished. Ron'll be back soon and hopefully then we can get Himto wake up."
"It will be hard… He's been asleep for such a long time." Hermione thought aloud. She motioned to the coffee with her free hand. "Thought you might need some…"
"With all that research you did… You'll know what to do." Draco blew softly across his mug before taking a sip. "You always do." Truth be known Draco had always been in awe of Hermione's intellectual prowess, he was a firm believer that if she couldn't do it, no one could.
Hermione fought a blush from creeping up her face. "This isn't supposed to be easy; he's in a bloody coma for Merlin's sake!"
"True… but it was chemically forced on him." Draco grinned. Privately he loved seeing her flush and get angry, her brown eyes seemed to light up like they used to; before the war.
"That doesn't make a bloody difference. It's been more than six years! I mean… We took him out of Britain! What… How do you think you'd feel, huh?" Hermione yelled her hand planted firmly on her hip.
Draco sighed and placed his coffee back down on the bench. "I don't know… Now, I need to get back to work." His hand paused before flipping down the protection mask. "Thanks for the coffee."
Hermione huffed and stormed off into one of the adjacent rooms, away from the workshop. She needed to see Him… Needed to talk to Him. Her feet took her there, to the back room, the one room no one went into.
Harry's room.
It was supposed to be the final battle, it was supposed to be about the light triumphing over the darkness in a blaze of glory, but it was more like slaughter. Voldemort's Death Eaters where too ruthless, powerful and organised, there were just too many of them. Before the Order could even rally their troops Hogwarts was overrun.
Hogwarts had fallen…
The air was filled with the sounds of screaming, shouting, and crying. Spells clashed, flashing a rainbow of colour on the otherwise bleak grey and crimson halls of Hogwarts. Above it all was alwaysthe ghostly laughter of the Dark Lord, who lazily wondered the corridors stepping over the gore and corpses of the many hundreds of students who had met their fate that night.
Harry stood in the centre of the Great Hall, his wand still raised even as he bled heavily from multiple cutting spell wounds. He literally shook with rage as Voldemort entered with Macnair and Malfoy Senior at his side.
The Dark Lord laughed at the sight before him, "How pitiful Potter! Still standing? Didn't you know? It's over, you've failed! This school belongs to me now! I've won." Voldemort yelled.
Malfoy and Macnair snickered, "I will never let you!" Harry screamed and lunged towards the Dark Lord, magic forgotten. The monster had killed his Mother, his Father. His minions had killed his Godfather and his mentor, Dumbledore.
Harry was blinded by the force of his rage and grief.
Malfoy caught Harry's wand arm and swung him down, his face crashing into the floor. Harry coughed and spat out the mouthful of blood that had threatened to choke him. He heard more than felt the crunch of his nose breaking.
"Harry, Harry, Harry. Why won't you join me? You are wasting your time with these… Filth!"Voldemort spat, flicking his wand in the direction of his friends. Hermione was holding onto Ron's arm, supporting him as his leg had been wounded earlier and would no longer support his weight.
"They're not filth!" Harry growled, wiping his mouth and struggling to get free from Malfoy's hold. "You're the only filth I see here Tom!"
Voldemort's eyes narrowed, "Don't call me that you pathetic boy! Macnair!"
"Yes my Lord!" Macnair's eyes narrowed and glinted maliciously as he patted his battle-axe lovingly.
Voldemort smirked, "Please keep our guest company while I see to the main event!"
Macnair smiled evilly, raising his axe above his head, "Will you scream for me Potter?" He asked before bringing the glinting weapon down onto Harry's back.
…tbc