Love and War: Part 1
..........
"We're here!" Ron looked at the great building in front of him. He was so happy to be finally out of the forest. Laura and Ron had finally reached their goal.
Laura did a strange victory dance while he jumped up and down ("No imagination," she huffed) as they celebrated.
"I'm scared," Laura said in mid dance. "Why don't I care that I'm scared?"
"'Cause you've –we've- been through the worst. What else could happen?"
"We could die a bloody death, that's what!" she told him, laughing somewhat hysterically.
Ron looked bewildered. "Oh… yeah."
Laura regretted saying anything because Ron had stopped jumping around. To brighten him up, she said, "Want to take our time going into the castle?"
He, taking her meaning out of the sentence, brightened instantly. He started laughing again, putting his hands on her waist. They did a two-part version of Laura's previous victory dance for a minute of two before kissing again. They didn't stop for a very long time.
..........
Draco took in the site immediately. Pansy stood to his mother's right, her eyes fixed on Hermione. Her face was a mask of shock and horror. It seemed that Pansy was unaware of the fact that Narcissa was holding a dark muggle object he didn't recognise to her head. Draco didn't like the look of that object.
Narcissa, his mother, was standing in between the two teenage girls. Her blemish-free skin glowed eerily in the light. Draco suddenly noticed something about his mother. She was crazy. She was out of control. And she was ageing. There were definite crows feet by her eyes.
Her eyes. They were shining with a frenzied glee. She was searching for his reaction, greedily, impatiently, eagerly. This was what she had been waiting for, he knew.
Hermione… His eyes couldn't look at her again but he had to. When he forced, dragged, pulled his eyes upon her, he felt both mentally and physically sick. What had his mother done to her?
Her head was swollen, out of proportion with her body. Badly swollen. Her cheeks were enormous, making her other features insignificant. Her nose was swollen too, a huge bubble on her face with no real shape or structure. Her mouth was pushed open by large spiky teeth jutting out at right angles to her face. Her hair was completely gone, except for a small wisp of fuzz at the top. Her skin was a yellowish colour, with terrible burns decorating it. They were the worst burns he had ever witnessed. The only thing recognisable were her eyes, her brown eyes, portraying a pain and shame almost as ugly and strong as her new 'look.'
"Draco, help me," she whispered.
That voice. That voice that he loved. That musical, slightly snobby voice. That voice from that mouth that had uttered so many facts at Hogwarts, that had screamed bloody murder at him so many times, that had called him "Draco…"
"Hermione and I," Narcissa announced, "have made a deal. During our time together, I say we've bonded. What do you say, Hermione, dear?"
Draco didn't, couldn't, look at her. But she didn't make a reply. That he could hear anyway.
"Anyway, we've decided that if you, Draco, can still show your love for the girl, that is if you still do love her, she will revert back to her former self with her former looks. Otherwise, she's mine." Narcissa smiled at them all gracefully, the perfect party hostess.
There was a silence.
"It all depends," she said, "on whether you still love her or not."
Draco looked from his mother to the present thing that represented Hermione.
Draco was ashamed to realise he was uncertain. He had given up everything for Hermione. He had given up his beliefs, his clean conscience, all his former friends (save Pansy) and openly proclaimed his love for her. But that was when she had looked like herself… like a human.
Now she was ugly.
But it was Hermione, he suddenly remembered. Hermione. There were her looks, yeah, but that wasn't why he loved her. Hell, she wasn't even that pretty, really. Yes, to him she was beautiful but if he was realistic, her hair was too frizzy and her teeth rather big.
No, what he loved about her was well… her. He had seen her back with the slaves. She had given them her food. She probably would have given them anything if they needed it. She had natural maternal instincts. She liked to take care of people… she was like a mother.
A mother… he had never really had one.
And her strength. Hermione had strength. She wasn't like Potter. Potter had it easy. Potter was the hero. But Hermione was just human. She was the one that did all the dog work, really. She kept Potter and his friends going. She kept them out of trouble. She did all the research, all the studious work. She was taken for granted by everyone around her. Nobody really appreciated her the way they should. And Hermione wasn't invincible to it all. She didn't not feel the pain.
No, she cried. She left all her emotions out. She had breakdowns. She whimpered. She begged. She didn't want to die… she didn't like pain.
But she kept going. She kept living her life. She kept studying, kept being unappreciated, kept being a slave. She held on to her bit of strength and never let go.
And that's why he loved her.
She was brilliant. She had, for Merlin's sake, caught on to Voldemort's plan before anyone else. She had realised that he was trying to draw Potter to the Ministry of Magic. Yet, when Potter had ignored her, she had gone with him. She had kept going. Loyally.
She was so bloody smart. He could never beat her in school. Never. Never once had he beaten her in a test. She was always that bit ahead.
And that's why he loved her. Because she was simply better than anyone else he knew. Strong. Brave. Genius. Compassionate. Fiery.
How could he not love Hermione Granger?
He was a Malfoy and Malfoys always wanted the best.
So Fuck her bad skin or baldness. Fuck it all to hell.
"Of course I love her," he told his mother, "and I always will."
"Touching," Narcissa said coldly. "Now, son, if I could just draw your attention to this object." She gestured to the object currently pointing to Pansy's temple. "This, Draco, is what Muggles so simply call," she smirked in mid sentence, "a gun."
..........
"Ron!" Harry caught sight of his best friend. He felt like he hadn't seen him in decades.
"Harry?"
The two ran to each other quickly and gave each other a brief brotherly hug. All grudges were forgotten. Ginny and Laura trailed behind, eyeing each other wearily. When Ron saw Ginny, he embraced her happily. Harry and Laura and perhaps even Ron, noticed that she responded quite coolly.
Then the four turned their heads towards Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"Ready to go in?" Harry asked, his voice quiet. Ron looked behind him at Laura. She offered him a small reassuring smile. He turned back to Harry and nodded.
"C'mon then…"
"How do we get in?" Laura asked, with a voice weak with fear and dismay, once Harry reached the large great doors.
"I guess," Harry said swallowing, "we… knock."
They all stood there until Ginny finally made an impatient noise and banged down on the huge knocker.
Harry hoped knocking on that door wouldn't be a move they'd all regret.
..........
Hermione was standing, looking at Draco. His eyes showed utmost horror. His eyes searched for something recognisable to him. His face was completely closed off to her.
It was then that Hermione realised she was crying. She realised that she didn't want him to see her now, looking like she did. She wanted to hide herself from him. She was ashamed and humiliated, her pride completely broken down.
Am I that weak, she thought with yet more shame? Am I really that bloody shallow? But, even after all that had happened to her, she was still a human being, still a teenage girl, and she still couldn't stop her tears.
Please don't lose all your feelings for me, she begged quietly. She didn't know why she didn't want him to hate her again. Was it just for her youth or was there something more?
"Draco…" she whispered through her mutated mouth. "Help me."
She realised she had called him Draco.
Hermione was terribly confused.
And so weak. She could hardly stand. Her eyes couldn't meet his. She could feel his revulsion from where he stood, could see him flinching.
"It all depends," Narcissa told him, "on whether you still love her or not."
That was what it all came down to, Hermione thought grimly. Love. Love meant everything in this game. Love changed everything. Love was what had started all this mess. Love was what had made Hermione so damn unhappy. Draco's love for her. Love was what had made Pansy stand by Draco all through the years, through all his tantrums and nastiness. Love was what had made Harry and Ron play that stupid game for her life. Love was what had changed Draco's life, transforming it so he went from a smug, sneaky, nasty Slytherin, surrounded by friends but possessing no real feelings, to a possessive, confused, unpopular, fatherless young man who had murdered, cried and fell in love. Love had ruined them all with its strength and yet brought them all together.
Love, it seemed to Hermione, had a cruel sense of humour.
It was love, and love only, which had brought them all to this exact moment of time, to this choice.
"Of course I love her," he said, "and I always will."
"Touching," Narcissa said coldly. "Now, son, if I could just draw your attention to this object." She gestured to the object currently pointing to Pansy's temple. "This, Draco, is what Muggles so simply call," she smirked in mid sentence, "a gun."
Hermione, who had had all her attention focused on Draco, turned her head sharply to Pansy. It was too terrible to react.
Why hadn't she noticed that gun before?
..........
Goyle and Crabbe opened the door. Their small beady eyes took them in and then they looked at each other stupidly.
Laura was the first to move. Harry realised he didn't even have his wand raised. "Step inside," Laura hissed at Goyle and Crabbe, wand ready. "Step inside before we make you."
Ron was very obviously impressed and surprised.
Harry lifted up his wand. His palm was sticky with sweat. He was nervous. It all boiled down to this, everything – his parent's death, his trip to the Department of Mysteries, Siruis' death, Cedric's death, Dumbledore's death, the DA meetings, his six years at Hogwarts, all the magic he'd learned, all the pain he had experienced. Everything he had feared was in this castle, waiting to be faced by him.
I'm not ready, he thought suddenly, desperately.
"If you're not ready now," Ron said, as if he'd been reading his mind, "then you never will be, Harry."
..........
"It's an incredible creation," Narcissa continued. "We have all under estimated Muggles. While we're so busy waving wands around, Muggles simply have to pull a trigger. It's very interesting."
""Please…" Hermione said feebly.
"Draco, let me teach you how a gun can be of use to me in this instant. You see, if you kiss Hermione, then I lose out on a lovely package of youth. But if I win – I win, Draco. I get her youth and a lovely new toy to play with. I always was the competitive type, as I'm sure you are too, Draco."
"You can say that again," Pansy said, smiling grimly but being careful not to move her head. "He likes to play games." She was of course, referring to the game he had forced Ron, harry and herself to plat for her freedom.
Hermione would have laughed if the situation had been even fractionally funny.
"But Hermione, while making the deal, did not make any objections to me making you choose between her, in her ugly form, and something else you hold of high value."
Narcissa had been in Slytherin too, in case you hadn't guessed.
"And this is where my lovely gun comes into play. I'm going to make you choose now, Draco. Choose between the two girls that you hold in high esteem. Your best friend, your only friend, or the girl who supposedly love who does not even love you back."
Narcissa smirked, pausing for a minute to enjoy and witness their reactions.
"Hermione or Pansy, Draco?"
..........
Goyle and Crabbe stepped to the sides. They looked confused, stupid as always. Laura held her wand close to them.
"What shall we do with them?" Laura asked.
Ron cast a silencing charm and a restraining charm on them. When Harry was pleased that they weren't going anywhere and when Laura and Ron had gloated for a bit, they went on, Ginny staying behind, silent and sulky.
Harry and the others advanced through the Entrance Hall. Nobody was there. Harry was sure security would only be tight around the Dark Lord himself.
They all felt incredibly small as they walked through the huge hall. How were they to defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters?
Harry thought of Hermione. If anything happened to him, he hoped she knew what he felt for her. But how could she, when he didn't even know.
With the risk of getting muddled and confused in his thoughts again, he sped up his pace. When he reached the door to the Great Hall, he hesitated. Voldemort was in there, he knew from the searing pain in his forehead.
"I'm ready," he said out loud to himself. "I am ready, aren't I?"
He wished someone smart like Hermione (or preferably just Hermione) were here to give him an answer.
..........
"Pick Hermione and I shoot Pansy in the head. Choose Pansy and she lives but Hermione is mine. I keep her, go far away and never will I have to bother with you again, except to perhaps call in on you once and a while to see if you're still eating well."
"Be reasonable about this, Draco. Look at them. Pansy is so much prettier."
Draco replied, "The effects of your spell on Hermione is only temporary, you said."
"Even so. Look at Pansy. She's been loyal to you all these years. She cares for you, even loves you. She will return your feelings. She has pure blood running in her veins. Doesn't that matter to you anymore? Marry her, and you won't be the scum of the Wizardry world. You will have power, respect and wealth. She would be a satisfactory wife. Draco, you know this. She would keep you happy."
He simply looked at his mother with cold grey eyes.
"Well, don't you agree?" his mother asked, obviously irritated.
Draco nodded. It was true.
"Now look at Hermione. Whatever feelings you have for her are only flimsy teenager hormones and teenage angst. You don't love her. You're a teenager. You're not old enough to love. And for Merlin's sake, you're a Malfoy. Malfoy's aren't capable to love. Haven't you realised that yet?
"You're wrong," Draco said quietly. "I know my feelings for her. I love her. I am in love with her. I don't know how or why it happened but I know that what I feel for her couldn't be anything other than love."
"Fine. You love her. Which brings me on to my next point. She does not love you. She has never loved you – she never will love you. What is the point, Draco? What is the point of holding an affection for her that will never be returned?"
"She's a Muggleborn. Do you think she will ever accept you? Her friends will never accept you. Her family will never accept you. She won't even attempt to, Draco, she doesn't like you. She never has. Surely you've realised that all she feels for you is revulsion. You killed her friend. Your father raped her. Who can blame her for hating you? All she can associate with you is bad memories and pain.
Hermione took in a breath to say something, Draco saw. But then she exhaled sadly and slowly.
"Don't be stupid, Draco. You're not unintelligent," his mother purred. "Don't become so now. Hermione's too much trouble. There are too many things in your way. It'll never work. You will never be the happy. Pick Pansy, and end all of our pain! You know I'm right!"
Draco looked at them all. He looked at his mother, firstly. But there was no point. He would never get through to her. She wouldn't stop this. Not until she got what she wanted. She may have married into the family, but Narcissa was a pure Malfoy at heart.
Then he looked at Hermione, at her new "look." She looked so disgusting. But it was Hermione. He could tell by her eyes that she didn't want to die, she didn't want to lose her youth.
Then he looked at Pansy. She looked sick with fear. Her eyes caught his and he could see in those dark orbs that she didn't want to die either.
All of this pain, started by love.
Hopeless, helpless, hapless love.
Love that taunted and haunted him. Love that had destroyed his life and yet given such meaning. Love! Love had ruined and created everything. Love, stubborn, un-removeable love. Love that fought with a fierce strength.
They were all just victims of love, even Draco himself.
How could he fight it? How could he give in to it?
What was he going to do?
..........
"Ah, Harry, I was expecting you. We were all expecting you."
Harry, Ron, Laura and Ginny were standing in the middle of a large group of Death Eaters and Dementors, all sitting at the House Tables.
The speaker was Voldemort himself, sitting in Dumbledore's chair. Harry felt his fear drain away to fury as this registered with him.
"Get out of Professor Dumbledore's chair," Harry said lowly and furiously.
"But Harry," Voldemort smiled, "Dumbledore's dead. He will be using this chair no more."
The Death eater's all laughed roboticly.
"You're not worthy to sit in that chair!" Harry spat.
But Harry's rage even paused when he heard Ginny's shrill cry. He turned sharply as she cried out again shrilly.
"TOM!"
..........
"Hello."
Draco looked at her with a typical critical eye that he was only learning from his Father now. Short, he thought, and chubby. Hair too yellow and dress too pink.
"Hello." Draco stuck out his hand as he'd often been taught to. "I'm Draco Malfoy."
"Pansy Parkinson. I'm charmed."
Their parents turned away, probably discussing some dark matter, but Pansy and Draco were much too young to care.
Pansy collapsed into giggled. She giggled even more when she saw his bewildered face.
And then he started to laugh. He didn't know what they were laughing at, nor did he care. He felt strange then. His parents never laughed. He never laughed. Especially over nothing. But he had to laugh because Pansy was laughing.
She grinned over at him, a grin full of conspiracy and mischief, as if they were sharing their own joke. A joke nobody else would ever understand. Both of them, at that time, never knew that joke would last for another ten years after.
"C'mon," she said. "Our parents are going to be too busy to notice us. Let's go have some fun."
Draco smiled with a happiness so strong it made him feel light headed and giddy and followed her lead, gripping on to her chubby soft hand.
..........
Memories flashed through his head of Pansy. When he had first met her. When he had been in a bad mood and shouted at her, and she had shouted right back – something no one else had ever done before. When they'd first entered Hogwarts, hoping nervously for Slytherin. When he had found her, lying on the floor – sobbing and sweating. His father had just raped her. He remembered storming up to his father – and losing his nerve.
He remembered when she had gone to the Yule Ball – damn, she had looked pretty that night. When she'd had the crush on Blaise Zabini and how the two would stay late in the Common Room, plotting on how to get Blaise to like her.
And then when she'd turned up at his door, with the rain pouring down on her, and a small smile on her face, and said, "I heard about you falling for Hermione Granger. Everyone's out to get you. I was at home and bored and I thought things would probably be more exciting over here." She had smiled at him ironically and then, looking at him properly, her face had gone serious and she'd simply hugged him for what seemed like a eternity, sighing, "Oh, Draco. But I'll be here for you. We'll work it out."
Everything snapped through his head at that moment.
And he knew what he had to do.
..........
"TOM!" Ginny screeched.
"Ah, yes," Voldemort said, "Harry, I believe you've met myself as a sixteen year old." Harry took in the young man standing beside the older Voldemort. Tom was smiling smugly. Harry took this in mildly as he did Voldemort's words. He felt dizzy. "I decided to bring him back," Voldemort was saying. "I thought him a worthy ally. After all, who can you trust if not yourself?"
But what Harry was really aware of was Ginny. Ginny, who had been at the back of the group, stepped out towards Tom.
Harry noticed her suddenly – perhaps it was because he was so nervous and aware of everything but he suddenly noticed all the differences in Ginny Weasley. She was wearing all black – Had Ginny ever wore black before? – tight black pants and a black string top. He jacket had slid down her shoulders. He noticed her womanly shape – When had Ginny grown up? – her new hips, the curves by her chest, her long legs. She was alarmingly pale – why didn't she possess the Weasley freckles? And right now she was in the middle of the Dark Lord's army, small, unprotected, her head titled towards Tom, her eyes wide, stepping closer to him.
"Ginny, get back!" Ron shouted. But fear seemed to have paralysed him. He didn't move. Nobody moved. Everyone was watching Ginny as if in a spell.
Ginny suddenly dropped to her knees, red hair flinging down her back at the sudden drop, and let out a kind of moan. Her thin pale lips were half-open and her eyes were large and white. "Oh, Tom..."
"Hello Ginny," Tom said confidently. He seemed amused. So did Voldemort.
"Tom… I missed you," she gasped. "Oh Merlin, you're back, Tom. I've waited so long. For so long." She suddenly let out a sob that half turned to a giggle. "I thought I-" She cast a glance at Harry. "I thought I- but of course not. He's nothing compares to you, Tom. I've been silly. It's only because he reminds me of you."
She was talking about Harry, he knew. He didn't really understand. But then, Harry never really understood girls.
"Oh, Tom…"
Tom got down of his seat – Snape's seat, Harry realised, - and started to walk towards her.
"No…" Laura breathed. Harry knew he should stop this. But he was so confused and the pain in his head was so severe.
Tom reached Ginny and she straightened. He lifted one artistic finger to her face and caught one of her tears that escaped her huge eyes. "You've grown up, Ginny," he said, with a note of appreciation.
"And you haven't," Ginny said, offering him her best smile, despite her tears.
Harry was so aware of how little she was, as Tom looked her up and down with a flare of… something in his eyes. Desire, Harry thought. He likes the new Ginny.
"I think of him as a son," Voldemort told Harry, standing up now. "After all, I never had a proper father, had I? So I might as well be a father to myself."
That's sick, Harry thought slowly, but fear held him dumb.
Ron jerked as Tom slowly brought his face to his sister, her tilting her head towards him willingly to meet his kiss.
"I've waited for so long," she whispered, her lips brushing against his. Then they kissed and that was what brought Ron out of his trance.
"Stop!" he yelled. "Ginny, are you mad?"
Ginny stepped out of the kiss to stand beside Tom. Tom's eyes flared with amusement. Harry felt sick and dismayed.
"I'm sorry, Ron," she said softly, "but this is who I am. I'm not a Gryffindor. I've tried, I really have. But the Sorting Hat wanted me to go to Slytherin. I shouldn't have tried fight it, I realise that now."
"The Sorting Hat wanted to put Harry in Slytherin too! But do you see him snogging a young Dark Lord?" Ron sounded desperate.
And then Ginny did the worst thing she could have done. Harry heard it and shut his eyes as if to try block it out. Ginny giggled.
She giggled and Tom laughed and then Voldemort joined in. And then the Death Eaters.
Ron looked stricken.
"Well," Ginny said through her giggles, "Tom's not really Harry's type, I think. But then, he does like Hermione…"
"Don't you talk about Hermione that way," Ron said furiously.
"Oh yes, the precious Hermione. Oh well, it doesn't bother me anymore. I'm afraid, Harry," she said, peering over at him, "I didn't really love you after all. You do look rather like Tom, you see, and sometimes when you speak-" Ginny shook her head. "Well, that doesn't matter anymore."
"So, what, you're going to the Dark Side then?" Laura barked.
"I've always been there. Wherever Tom goes, I follow."
"You stupid idiot," Harry said finally.
"Excuse me?" Ginny snapped.
"Look at him, Ginny. Do you see him defending you? This is all a joke to him. The only reason he hasn't killed you already is because-" Harry was too confused to be embarrassed, "B-because you's suddenly got boobs! He doesn't love you, he never has, and he never will."
"You can't judge someone for something they haven't already done, harry. He isn't really Voldemort yet. He's Tom. And I know him better than anyone."
"Are you really that thick?" Harry yelled at her, suddenly frustrated. "He tried to kill you – and me. And all those Muggleborn that Basilisk went after. Hermione, too. You know, your best friend."
"Oh, harry," Ginny laughed shortly without any humour. "I don't care about Hermione. I never really have. And, and I don't care about you either. I don't need you! I have Tom!" Ginny was very red. She didn't look very pretty anymore.
Tom was smirking. So was Voldemort.
"You're just jealous, Harry," Ginny told him hotly. "You want me now that you can't have me! Well, that's just tough luck!"
"You're a fool," Harry replied coldly.
"Ginny, please…" Ron pleaded.
"And I don't need you either, Ron. I don't want to be a Weasley. I'm sick of you all pulling me down. No respect. No reputation. Just poverty. Oh," Ginny suddenly smiled, "that reminds me. I'll have to tell Malfoy that the deal is off."
"…Malfoy?" Laura said weakly.
Ginny smiled knowingly but said nothing. Ron stared at her with horror like she was some stranger.
It was at that moment that Harry felt a sudden uproar of anger.
..........
"Pansy," Draco said. "I'm so sorry. Not just for this but for everything. If there was something, anything, I could do-"
""Don't be a fool, Draco," Narcissa snapped. But it was too late. He could see it in his mother's eyes. She knew. So did Pansy. So did Hermione. So did he. If he had a chance to save Hermione, then he would, no matter what the cost.
"I'm sorry." And Draco really meant it. He'd lost everything now, including his best friend. All that was left was Hermione – and he could never have her now.
Everything that had made him Draco Malfoy – his beliefs, his respect, his family, his friends, his loyalty, his protection – were gone, leaving behind a young mean who was just as confused and unhappy as everyone else in the world.
But he'd made up his mind, at Pansy's expense.
Pansy stared at him, with huge tears rolling down her face. He couldn't expect her to understand, to accept it gracefully. She didn't want to die. She'd been chosen over someone else and she didn't want to. She had lots of things left to do. She didn't ask to be dragged into this. She had one it, for him, sorted out many things, for him, and this was how he repaid her, by killing her?
Draco kissed Hermione, to end the bet.
Draco would never get the blood off his hands.
..........
Harry was angry, furious. Everyone had lost so much, just because of Lord Fucking Voldemort.
Everything. His parents. His childhood. His Godfather. His Headmaster. His girl (indirectly).
And now?
Ron had lost his sister. Mr Weasley had lost his little girl. Mrs Weasley had lost her only daughter. The twins had lost their ally in mischief. Bill and Charlie had lost their little sister to protect. And Harry had lost a friend.
So much pain, Harry thought dizzily. Everybody had suffered so much. So much pain and suffering. Everything that had happened to Hermione was Voldemort's fault. Everything that had happened to Ron was Voldemort's fault. Everything that had happened to Ginny was Voldemort's fault.
Everything that had made him Harry Potter – his beliefs, his respect, his family, his friends, his loyalty, his protection –were gone, leaving behind a young man, who was just as confused and unhappy as everyone else in the world.
This was it.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice destroyed him, born as the seventh month does… and The Dark Lord will mark him as an equal, but he will have powers the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…
That was the prophecy, right?
One of them had to die, right?
Right.
So let it be so.
Harry suddenly stood up straight, walked over to the Dark Lord, and pointed his want at Voldemort's heart.
Chaos ensued.
..........
"We will always come second to Gryffindors, won't we?" Pansy said quietly. "Slytherin can never really win."
Draco had kissed Hermione only briefly, only enough to reverse the spell. Hermione, in her original form, looked back at him and then at Pansy.
"Pansy, I-" Hermione couldn't get any words out properly.
"I'm sorry," Draco said somewhat pathetically.
"Any last requests?" Narcissa said.
"Yep. Don't kill me."
Narcissa laughed with amusement. "Anything else?"
"D-do it the Wizard Way," Pansy said.
Narcissa contemplated, then nodded. She held up her wand to Pansy's throat.
"Any last words?" Narcissa said spitefully.
"Yes," Pansy smiled at them all. "See you all in hell."
The next minute was a mist of confusion. Narcissa muttered, "Avada Kederva" and then there was a moment of silence. Then, like slow motion, Pansy fell to her knees, then to the floor, face down. Hermione saw her face, pale and shocked, in a quick flash and a new jagged scar decorating the base of her throat before she met the floor.
There was a shocked silence and then-
Suddenly Draco fell to his knees beside her body and the roar the burst from him was the most terrible thing Hermione had ever heard.
"PANSY!"
..........
Just continue along now… I updated with two chapters, not just one. Are you all happy now? :)
If you want to review twice, then that's GREAT!