Thank you all for reading! Here's the new chapter for the holiday weekend. A lot of Dramione goodness in this one.

Chapter Eighteen

It seemed like forever, but at last, they hit solid earth. Draco inhaled deeply and smelled salty air, knowing that his old house-elf had brought them somewhere close to the beach.

Draco stood up shakily, still carrying Hermione's barely-conscious form. He looked around and saw Weasley pointing to the house. He started walking as fast as he could to the house and heard Weasley running beside him.

"…Shell Cottage," Weasley was saying. "My brother and his wife live here. We'll be safe here…"

Draco barely heard what Weasley was saying. It felt as if everything had frozen. He couldn't think, he couldn't feel. All he knew was that he had to make sure that Hermione was all right.

"In here," Weasley said. "Hurry!"

Draco followed him blindly and didn't even glance up when he passed by a number of other people. He carefully laid Hermione on the kitchen table and cradled her head in his hands. She weakly stared at them before closing her eyes.

"Hermione…" he whispered. "Please be okay. Please be okay."

Weasley placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. He seemed to be crying. "Come on, Hermione."

At once, she stirred a bit. Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to sit up. Draco felt a swooping sensation in the pit of his stomach and gently pushed her down. He still cradled her head tenderly.

"Hermione?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I'm sorry—"

She raised a shaky hand and shook her head.

"Hermione—"

"Let's get her to a bed."

Draco turned at the sound of an unrecognizable voice. He saw someone with flaming red hair and instantly knew that this must be a Weasley. The eldest Weasley. Draco nodded and stood back as Weasley carried Hermione upstairs. He looked out of the window and saw Harry kneeling down over something.

He headed out of the house, passing by Dean Thomas, a Gryffindor Muggle-born from his year, carrying the goblin into the house, with the veela girl from the Triwizard Tournament following closely behind.

Draco stood next to Harry and saw the blood seeping through Dobby's clothes. The silver knife of Bellatrix's lay next to them, bloodied and used.

"I want to do it properly," Harry said slowly. "Not by magic."

Draco nodded and transfigured two rocks into spades. He and Harry headed to the end of the garden where the Weasley brother had pointed and began digging. They didn't say a word to one another, but continued to dig. The day dragged on and Draco could feel blisters forming on the palm of his hand. With each painful blister, he remembered each scream that came from Hermione. It pained him, even more so when he thought about how his former house-elf had saved them.

And now he was gone.

Draco dug as feverishly as Harry, trying to keep up with him. They both lost track of time, or maybe they just didn't care. Nonetheless, as the sun began to rise, they were joined by Weasley and Dean Thomas.

Harry looked up when they arrived.

"How's Hermione?" he asked.

Draco stopped digging to listen to the answer. He wiped his sweat.

"Better," answered Weasley. "Fleur's looking after her."

Nothing more was said as they jumped into the hole and dug alongside Harry and Draco. Together, they worked in silence until the hole seemed deep enough.

Draco watched Harry, Weasley, and Thomas all place items of clothing on the elf. They must've known him before, he figured. Why else would Dobby have helped them? Helped Harry?

"We should close his eyes."

Draco jumped at the sound of the voice. He hadn't heard the others coming through the darkness. The eldest Weasley was wearing a traveling cloak and his wife, the veela girl, wore a large white apron. Hermione was wrapped in a borrowed dressing gown, pale and unsteady on her feet. Draco immediately headed to her side and placed an arm around her, keeping her steady. She buried her head into him and he smelled a soft vanilla fragrance from her.

He listened as the Lovegood girl said a few words about Dobby. Harry seemed to be very cut up about this. He knew that Harry had freed Dobby from his family, but he never knew that Harry had grown that attached to him. Draco was never attached to the house-elf; he was just their servant in his eyes. But after seeing Kreacher with Harry before and witnessing this emotional moment, he saw house-elves in a different light, too. They should be treated more humanly because they had feelings, too. Inwardly, Draco felt ashamed for the horrible way he had treated Dobby when he still had worked for his family.

As soon as their makeshift funeral was over, Draco carefully led Hermione back to the house. He sat her down on the couch and sat next to her. Weasley patted Hermione's arm as he took a seat on the other side of Hermione. Finally, Draco took a long look around the room and saw that everyone was staring at him.

Immediately, he cast his eyes downward, uncomfortable at the sudden attention.

"Malfoy's with us," Weasley said in his defense. "We can trust him."

Draco looked up and saw a look of complete confusion on Dean Thomas' face. The Lovegood girl sat near him, smiling and nodding as if he belonged. The veela girl wore a stern face, looking as if she was unsure of what to think. The Weasley brother was hard to read. Draco didn't want to stare too long at him, because his deeply scarred face reminded Draco of the night he led the Death Eaters into Hogwarts.

It was his fault that the Weasley brother was like that. And Draco knew it. He looked up at the scarred face and felt the utmost remorse for what he had done. He should've just killed Greyback when he had the chance last year.

"Malfoy, you remember Dean and Luna, right? This is my brother, Bill, and his wife, Fleur. The Beauxbatons champion from the Triwizard Tournament."

Draco nodded and forced a smile. "I remember." He looked at Bill. "Thank you…for…" he gestured around.

Bill stared unceasingly into Draco's eyes. It made him uncomfortable, but Draco was determined to not look away. "You really trust him, Ron?"

"Never thought I would say this, but yes, I do. With my life."

"Where have you been? Why did you show up like this?"

"I can't say anything, Bill."

"What the hell is going on? A dead house-elf, a half-conscious goblin, an old wandmaker, and Hermione looks like she's just been tortured, and the pair of you and Harry don't look any better!"

Draco and Weasley exchanged a glance. Weasley shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bill, but I can't say anything."

Bill rolled his eyes in frustration, but took a seat and began talking. He was telling Weasley about their family and how they were all in hiding now that it was obvious that Weasley was with Potter. Draco looked over at Hermione and saw that her eyes were engaged in the conversation, but she still looked rather pale. Draco took her hand and tried to give her an encouraging smile, but was afraid that it came out more like a grimace.

Harry barged in, dripping in dirt and blood. He and Bill exchanged a few words and Weasley tapped Draco. He gestured to Harry and the two of them helped Hermione to her feet and headed upstairs. Harry wanted to speak to the goblin and then the wandmaker.

Horcruxes over Hallows, it seemed.

Draco sat alone behind the cottage, overlooking the ocean. Shell Cottage was a beautiful place, he had to remember to let Bill know that. The past few weeks had been unreal to him. The whole year so far had been unreal to him.

And yet, he still hadn't really come to terms with exactly what he had done.

He had openly defied his father and the Dark Lord by leaving with Harry, Hermione, and Weasley. They knew that he was with them. They knew that he was working with them. And he knew that if he ever saw any of them again, save his mother, he would be instantly put to death.

Harry had told them that Lucius and Bellatrix had been punished severely afterwards. He had seen another vision while digging the grave for Dobby. But Harry hadn´t told him whether or not his mother had been there. Draco feared for the answer. He desperately hoped that Bellatrix hadn't noticed that Narcissa hadn't taken part in the fight. There was no doubt in his mind that his mother's sister would turn her in if it meant mercy for her.

After Harry had spoken to Griphook, the goblin, and Ollivanders, he had had another vision of the Dark Lord breaking into Dumbledore's grave to retrieve the Elder Wand.

So the tale of the Deathly Hallows was true.

And there was no doubt in Draco's mind that Harry was keeper of two of them already.

They spoke in great detail about this: he, Harry, Hermione, and Weasley. They talked about the possibilities of Dumbledore even being alive and what the other Horcruxes were. If anything, this little foray into Malfoy Manor seemed to have lit a fire inside of Harry again. It was too bad that Dobby had to die for it, but Harry seemed to be reinvigorated to go searching for Horcruxes, not Hallows. Especially since the Dark Lord already retrieved the Elder Wand.

"Wait…" he thought. "Horcruxes?"

Something clicked in his mind and he ran back to the house. He burst inside and interrupted a conversation between Fleur, Harry, and Hermione. Weasley was in the living room, talking to Lovegood.

"I think I figured something out!" Draco exclaimed as he ran inside. "Harry, Hermione." He gestured them to follow him outside. "Weasley, come on!" Draco ran out into the garden and looked around to make sure they were alone.

"What is it?" asked Hermione.

"My mother's sister was terrified at the thought of us breaking into her vault. She asked you," he pointed to Hermione, "What else we took. Maybe a Horcrux is in her vault?"

"Do you really think so?" said Weasley, doubtfully. "Why would You-Know-Who—"

"It was a sign of Wizarding importance," Harry said, excitedly. "You-Know-Who was too poor to have his own vault at Gringotts, so he used another old family´s vault – the Lestranges'. Draco – that's brilliant!"

"Do you have access to it, Malfoy?" asked Weasley. "You know, being her family and all."

Draco shook his head. "I only have access to the Malfoy vault. I don't even have access to the Black vault." He looked at Harry. "You do."

Harry shrugged. "Back to the point. The Horcruxes—"

"But what could it be?" asked Hermione. "We've got the diary, the locket, the ring…"

"All we need is Hufflepuff's cup, something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor and the snake," finished Weasley.

"At least we know that it's one of those," said Harry, "because in order to retrieve it, we're going to have to break into Gringotts. And in order to do that, we're going to need—"

"Griphook," the four of them said in unison.

They begun their preparations for the Gringotts break-in. In many ways, it was a lot easier than the Ministry of Magic break-in, but in other ways, it was a lot more difficult. For starters, they were working with Griphook. And while Griphook was very knowledgeable about Gringotts and gave them tons of useful information, he had a strange affinity toward pain and relished in the thought of more bloodshed.

Draco could tell that this bothered the other three as well, but none of them said anything, for they each knew that they needed Griphook in order for the plan to run smoothly. It was odd for him, needing a goblin. Like house-elves, he had treated goblins like vermin. In return, they hadn't been very nice either, but Draco had never thought much about them.

He found that if all goblins were like Griphook or even somewhat like Griphook, he didn't like them very much. House-elves, he felt pity and sympathy for, but not goblins. He vaguely remembered Binns' lectures on goblin/wizard wars in History of Magic and knew that they could defend themselves against wizards, and they have, but house-elves could not. House-elves were completely at their mercy and they would not do anything about it even though they had their own brand of magic.

Ever since Dobby's death, Draco could not help but think about him and house-elves in general. If he had still been the Malfoy's servant, there was no doubt that his father would have ordered Dobby to die for them. But through Dobby, Draco saw that house-elves loved too, and this particular house-elf had loved Harry. And because of his love for Harry, he had been willing to save him and die for him.

This thought troubled Draco to no end.

But he didn't dare to voice his thoughts aloud to Harry, Hermione, or Weasley. Not that they would scoff at him or anything, in fact, he was sure they wouldn't. But he felt like he was going a bit mad. Why would a wizard care for the well-being of house-elves? He felt like Harry would probably understand, considering his relationship with Dobby, but Hermione and Weasley, not so much.

He was a bit sad at leaving this place. With the plan coming together, it was inevitable that they would leave soon. It was the most beautiful place he had ever seen and he quite enjoyed staying here. Especially after Bill Weasley, his wife, and Dean Thomas got over him being here. The Lovegood girl was still strange, but she never made him feel uncomfortable. If he needed a laugh, he went to find her since she always said something that made Draco smile. But he noticed the Lovegood girl and Weasley enjoying each other's company since they had arrived at Shell Cottage.

Draco headed upstairs. The door was open to Hermione and Luna's room and he saw Hermione standing next to the window. She was staring out at the ocean. He had just passed by Luna and Weasley talking in the garden and Harry and Dean Thomas doing something called "fishing" with Bill in the ocean.

Draco knocked on the door. "May I come in?" he asked, sticking his head into the dimly lit room.

"Yes, of course, Draco," Hermione answered. She smiled at him and took a seat on her bed.

"How are you?"

"Each day gets better, Draco. I'm sure you understand."

Draco nodded. "You get used to it after awhile. Sometimes, you don't even feel the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse." Hermione gave him a strange smile. "I mean…not that I want you to get tortured again, Hermione. Of course I don't."

She smiled at him again. "I know you don't, Draco. Thank you, by the way. It was a very brave thing that you did."

"I didn't do anything. Dobby was the one who got us out of there."

"But you were the one who stopped her from hurting me. And you—you disobeyed your father when he told you to kill me!"

"Well, of course I wasn't going to kill you, Hermione."

"And you left with us. So, now they know."

Draco shrugged. "And I'm still here."

"Yeah," she said. Hermione had an unfathomable look on her face. "You're still here."

Draco held out his hand toward her left arm. "Do you mind?"

Hermione shook her head and extended it. Draco pulled up her left sleeve and lightly ran his fingers over the letters that Bellatrix had carved into her arm. It spelled "Mudblood."

"I'm sorry she did this to you."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry about it."

"I'm not," she said defiantly. "I'm a Mudblood, yes I am!"

"Stop calling yourself that, Hermione."

"But I am, Draco! My parents are Muggles!" She held her arm up. "I'm not ashamed of this!" Hermione reached over and pulled his left sleeve up, revealing the ugly Dark Mark. "Just like you shouldn't be ashamed that this isn't you anymore."

Draco pulled down his sleeve. He ignored what she said. "Are you still in pain?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, not anymore." She looked deeply into his gray eyes. "Are you?"

"No. Like I said, you get used to the aftereffects of the Cruciatus—"

"I wasn't talking about the Cruciatus Curse. Your father…Bellatrix…they…they said some hurtful things."

Draco's face hardened. "Nothing I haven't heard before."

A horrified look came across Hermione's face. "That's what you lived with? No wonder why you were such a prat, Draco." She gave him a small smile. "That's a horrible way to grow up."

"That's why it isn't so strange to find out that my father had been using the Cruciatus on me since I was a child." Draco shrugged. "How did you grow up, anyway? Mummy and Daddy reading bedtime stories to you every night? Walks in the park?"

Hermione nodded, blushing a bit at her easy childhood compared to Draco's. "Yes. I had a very nice life. That is, until my magic started to show. Then only my parents loved me. Everyone else thought I was a freak."

"They just didn't understand. They didn't know."

"I know that, Draco. It's a bit surprising coming from you."

Draco thought about what he had said. "Was I defending Muggles just then?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes."

He shook his head, but looked down at the word on Hermione's arm. He continued running his fingers on it as if it would somehow disappear. "Tell me something about yourself," he said softly. "Something that you've never told anyone else."

She stared at him for a long time. He instantly regretted his words. Why would she trust him with something that she never even had told Harry or Weasley?

"I…I used to hate myself. Everyone called me a freak and I believed it. That's why I started reading a lot. It was the only escape I had."

Draco looked at her, listening intently. He didn't let go of her arm, nor stopped touching the mark Bellatrix left on her.

"I threw myself into my studies and read all the time. I didn't have many friends in the Muggle world and…when I received my Hogwarts letter, I was overjoyed. Finally, there was some explanation to my…abilities. My parents didn't really understand, but Professor McGonagall came to my house and explained Hogwarts and the whole Wizarding world to them. They agreed to let me go and were happy that I was happy.

"I thought that coming to Hogwarts…I would finally be around people who were just like me. People that wouldn't make fun of me or call me a freak."

A sinking feeling overcame Draco. He hadn't helped when she had come to Hogwarts and he knew it. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione shook her head, stopping him.

"It wasn't only you. Of course, coming to Hogwarts, I had already read all the books, plus more, so I was sort of already prejudiced against Slytherin, too. It was only natural coming from the Slytherins, I guess. At least from what I read." She looked down and when she looked back at Draco, he was a bit surprised to see tears in her eyes. "But it hurt when it came from my own House. None of them were nice to me…not even Harry or Ron. Harry was always civil to me, but…" She wiped her eyes with her other hand. "Everyone was just horrible. I imagined that I would go to Hogwarts and have all these friends because they wouldn't make fun of me for being a freak. We'd have fun practicing magic and all. Instead, they made fun of me for being a know-it-all. Laughed at me because I didn't have any friends. I tried to put it off as if I didn't care. So I read more and I studied more. Tried to be top of the class so I had something that I could be proud of.

"But…the part that I've never told anyone, the part that I'm ashamed of…I was tired of it. Tired of being hated because of who I was and all…it was hard, coming to a completely different world with no friends and no family to understand and help me. So…I jumped into the lake. During first year. I jumped into the lake and tried to drown."

Draco felt like the air was being sucked out of him. He held his breath, squeezing Hermione's arm to make sure she was still before him.

"I saw the merpeople in the lake and hit my head on one of the rocks. I think a grindylow got to me and I remember closing my eyes, thinking that I was ready to die."

"What happened?" Draco whispered.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't really know. When I woke up, I was in the hospital wing and Professor McGonagall was sitting beside me. She told me the merpeople had chased the grindylows off and the giant squid had brought me to shore. Then she gave me a long lecture about safety and being a Gryffindor and facing my problems instead of running away from them. But she was there for me. She took care of me when no one else did. I asked her not to tell my parents. They'd pull me from Hogwarts. I think she understood. She never said a word to them. The following night was Halloween. And it was when Harry and Ron saved me from the troll. They never knew that the day before, I tried to commit suicide. I was only eleven."

Draco didn't know what to say. He was silent for a few moments, looking into her eyes. He saw the tears filling her eyes and remorse filled his heart, remembering how badly he had treated Hermione during their years at Hogwarts.

"I-I.."

Hermione gave him a small smile. "It's okay. I'm fine now. I'm here now." She squeezed his hand. "I've told you something. Now you tell me something."

Draco frowned, thinking hard. "I don't know. With my father and Bellatrix and my mother…you know those things."

Hermione smiled. "What have you been thinking about when you were out by Dobby's grave?"

"You've seen me?"

Hermione pointed to her window. Dobby's grave was out there, surrounded by flowers. "Yes, I have."

"You have to promise not to laugh."

"Why would I laugh at you, Draco?"

"Because it's a ridiculous thought."

Hermione giggled. "No such thing."

He dropped her arm and pointed to her accusingly. "You're already laughing!"

She laughed out loud. "No, I'm not. Your reaction is just funny, that's all." She quieted down, but smiled at him. "Now, come on, tell me. What do you think about out in the garden?"

Draco looked out of the window. "I didn't know you had a view of the garden. It's very beautiful."

"Yes, it is. Now stop trying to change the subject. Do you miss them?"

"My father and Bellatrix? No. My mother? Of course I do. When I stayed with Aunt 'Dromeda and Uncle Ted…I felt like I was in a real family. A normal one. And Nymphadora felt like an older sister even though when I was there, I only saw her a few times."

Hermione smiled. "You seem to think highly of Tonks."

Draco nodded. "I do. She made me laugh. And she got me to talk to her a few times. After I stopped acting like a complete Malfoy prat to her, too. I wish I could see her again. And Remus. I wonder if they've had their child yet."

"Me too. But surely they're not the only thing you think about in the garden? You're out there an awful lot."

"You're gonna laugh if I tell you."

"I already promised I won't."

"I've been practicing the Disillusionment Charm. It was the last thing Uncle Ted taught me. And I couldn't pick it up. I feel like if I could get it, he'll be proud of me."

"I think he's already proud of you, Draco."

"There's more, Hermione." Draco stared out of the window at Dobby's grave for a few moments before turning around and sitting across from her again. "I've been thinking about, well, about Dobby. And Kreacher. And house-elves, in general. They do everything that we bid them to do and receive nothing in return. And Dobby, a 'free' elf was still willing to lay down his life for someone who was not his master. He lost his life protecting people who were not his masters. And he wasn't ordered to do it. He wanted to, he protected Harry and the rest of us because…well, because he wanted to."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in surprise. She stared at Draco incredulously.

"And…they're magical, too. But they have never used their magic against wizards, like goblins have. They use it to help us, to make our lives better. To do things that we don't want to do. Cook, clean…hell, even raise our children. And what do we do in return? Remind them of extra punishments so they can hurt themselves more. Rule over them to make yourself feel better. Make up stupid commands so they have another reason to punish themselves. They have feelings too and house-elves, like Dobby, could love their masters and they could—"

"Draco, do you want to free house-elves?"

He shrugged. "I don't...I dunno, but they should at least be thanked for their services."

She looked at him in wonder. Draco saw something more in her eyes, something more tender. She had never looked at him like that before.

"What?" he asked defensively. "You think it's crazy."

"Of course I don't think it's crazy. I…I…you never cease to surprise me, Draco."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Can you hand me my bag, please?"

Draco looked at her in confusion as he passed her the beaded bag. She opened it and reached in, pulling out another bag. She opened it and pulled out a worn journal.

"What's that?" he asked.

"My journal. I've been writing in it since I was seven years old. When I got to Hogwarts, I found out how I could expand it and keep it at the same size." She smiled at him and held it up. "Magic does wonders. Here. Have a look." She held it out to him.

"Are you sure? It seems…I dunno, private."

"It is. Nobody's ever seen this before. Open it to page thirteen."

He looked at her curiously, but she nodded to him.

"Go on, open it."

Draco nodded, opening the worn book. He smirked at the handwriting of the seven-year-old Hermione and showed it to her. She shook her head and waved her hand, so he opened it to the page she had directed. At the top, it said,

"Things I Want To Do Before I Die," Draco read aloud.

"I wrote that list when I was nine. Some of it is crossed off, already."

Draco quickly skimmed down to one of the things she crossed off. "Being in two places at once?"

She quickly explained how she and Harry used a Time-Turner in their third year to save Sirius Black.

"Ah, so that's how that happened."

Hermione nodded and smiled.

Draco looked down at the list and saw that it was numbered starting at one hundred. "What's number one?" he asked, skimming down to the bottom of the page. He turned the page and skimmed down the back of it.

Hermione waited a bit.

"To witness a miracle," Draco read. He looked at her questioningly.

She passed him a quill. "Would you mind crossing it off for me?"

"Why?" He took the quill and held it to the page, but didn't cross it off. "What miracle have you witnessed?"

Hermione pulled him down so he was sitting next to her on the bed. He was looking down at the page, still. She reached up and pressed her fingers to his chin, pushing it towards her. Her brown eyes stared tenderly into his gray ones.

"You," she said simply.

Please let me know what you think!