Disclaimer- Don't own it.
A/N- Sorry for slow update! But this chapter's longer than usual. And yes, I did change my username to potatocrazy4. I don't know if it updated, though. I didn't like the 'writer' part, because it was kind of obvious and kind of conceited, in my opinion. Well, onto chapter!
Chapter 15- Knifes
Hermione woke the next morning, and she knew it was today. Today was the day that Harry was going to come.
"Good morning." Draco's voice came from Hermione's closet.
"Draco? What are you doing here?" Hermione said, jumping out of her bed sheets.
"Woke up early. Wanted to talk." Draco exited her closet.
"What are were you doing in there?"
"Er… well, I kept our diagrams and things in your… underwear drawer."
"What?"
"I didn't want my father to find it!" Draco explained.
"Whatever… it's no use anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"Harry's going to come. He lied to us when he said he wasn't- I know he did."
"So? We can still get Lovegood and Weasley and them. I don't think Potter's going to be able to do that alone." Draco's real hope, however, was if that they released them, Lucius would forget about the task that he was to perform.
"I don't know, Draco. If Harry's coming, I don't think we should get them. It could be risky, considering Voldemort won't be preoccupied with trying to kill Harry." Hermione pointed out. "If we release them during the chaos, however, we'll most likely go unnoticed."
Draco was stumped. Why did she have to be so damn intelligent? It was going to kill her- literally.
Hermione looked smug. "It's settled then. We're going to wait for Harry."
"No! I…" Draco couldn't bring himself to say it. If he did, she would most likely go with the trademark Gryffindor line: "I'd sacrifice myself for the good of the wizarding world!" and then Draco would have to kill her. Or, they would try to escape, which would inevitably end in their capture. It was a lose-lose situation. He just wished that he could tell her one last thing before he did it- but how does one go about telling a girl he loves her right before he cold-heartedly murders her?
Again, he was in the ultimate lose-lose situation.
"Draco? I'm going to the library now. I honestly don't know how to prepare any more for what's to come. Unless, of course, you want to warn the house elves." Hermione said.
Draco nodded, not really listening. He didn't even notice that Hermione's voice was quavering just a bit, didn't notice the fact that she might have been very scared for what was soon to happen.
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Harry woke up shivering that morning, not for the first time. Waking up in unfavorable conditions was just one of the disadvantages of trying to escape Lord Voldemort.
He stood up and shook the scraggly leaves from his even scragglier hair, then straightened his ripped, stained, and bloodied robes. He even went as far as to wipe his face clean. He figured that if he was about to walk into a death trap, he might as well look good when he did.
Grabbing the phoenix feather wand he hadn't used in quite awhile, he gathered up his sleeping blanket and checked the sky. It was still relatively early- and a good fight-to-the-death battle wasn't cliché enough until it was late. He couldn't possibly show up so early and deprive onlookers of the classic war. He was Harry Potter- there always had to be a scene when he arrived.
And that was exactly what he planned on having.
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Hermione pulled some more books off of the shelves, adding another couple inches to the stack of pages waiting for her on the couch.
Reading always helped her forget about things, which was exactly what she wanted to do right now. She wanted to escape the world of wizardry, where war was looming over her like a storm cloud, and join the Land of Oz, or the vast prairie where Laura Ingalls played. Things seemed so much easier there. You just had to listen to what Papa told you to do, or follow the yellow brick road. Right now, Hermione couldn't find her yellow brick road. And she wanted to know so desperately where it led, how it ended.
Draco had been acting odd lately. Hermione wanted to escape that. She knew that something important had been discussed when Lucius called his son into his study the other day, but Hermione had yet to know what it was. It made Draco act weird- he kept giving her strange looks; ones that were desperate, longing, haunting, fearful, apologetic, and frightened all at the same time. It was not a pleasant look. So Hermione was escaping that.
Harry was coming. Hermione wanted to escape that. She knew that his coming could lead to her, and quite possibly Draco's, death. Obviously, she didn't want either. Strangely, though, she got a much more gut-wrenching feel when she thought about the latter. So she was escaping that.
She was falling in love with Draco. Hermione wanted to escape that. She knew that she was, she had been for a while. It was just a matter of admitting it, which she was never good at. Hermione had always been one to be in denial, that was just part of her personality. But now seemed like the most inopportune time to be in love with him. A war was coming, and all one needed was two words to kill either of them. So she was escaping that.
Hermione opened her book. And escaped all of that- or at least tried. Unable to help herself, she let a couple tears stain the book's crinkled pages.
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Hermione had been in the library for five hours straight now, and Draco was beginning to worry. That was a long time to go with only books, and she hadn't even come out for lunch, or to use the loo. Five hours was quite some time to hold your piss.
He had gone over the Manor maps one more time before deciding it was time to go find her already. He was about to leave the room when a rough arm grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Draco!" An urgent voice hissed. Draco looked up. It was Lucius, eyes wide and crazed. He dragged Draco into his study and threw him onto the armchair. "It is time, Draco!" Lucius was practically dancing.
"What time?" Draco said. His voice was filled with dread- he was trying to buy time, but he knew Potter was here.
"Harry Potter is here," Lucius rasped. "He is sneaking around here somewhere- the alarms signaled that he broke our wards. And the Dark Lord requests that the first thing he sees is the dead body of his Mudblood companion, signaling that he fell into our traps again!"
Draco's eyes were wide, and he was trembling in fear, but Lucius took it as excitement. "It is your time to prove yourself, Draco- embrace it!"
"But Father, I… I… now?"
"Yes, now! Why are you not excited?"
"I…" Draco was desperately trying to buy time, willing Potter to burst out of the walls and distract his father. "How will I do it?"
"Ah… that is just where I was getting." Lucius spun around and walked to his desk. Carefully, he lifted a black velvet box. "Here."
Draco gulped. The box was thin and long, the perfect size for…
"A knife," Lucius said as he lifted the finely crafted piece of silver from the parcel. "Only the best for a Malfoy." He ran his finger down the smooth metal, stopping when he reached the impossibly sharp point.
"A knife? Why can't I just kill her the wizarding way?" Draco asked in panic. He wanted her to go peacefully, not with torture and pain as her last moments.
"The only respectful way to kill a muggle-born is the muggle way, of course. It's what the Mudblood deserves." Lucius sneered. "But enough of this talking. It is time for you to fulfill your expectations for the Dark Lord." He held out the knife expectantly.
Draco bit his lower lip, then reached out to take it. It felt cold and uncomfortable in his hands, and he internally dreaded what he was soon to do with this piece of metal. It seemed so innocent by itself, but in his hands, it was an instrument of pure pain and death.
"When you have killed her, when the deed has been done, you must drop the knife. That is all we want. It is made of special goblin metal, and makes an echoing clang when dropped. Then we will enter, the Dark Lord will take the body, and you may honorably bear your Dark Mark."
Draco nodded. This was exactly what he never wanted.
"You may leave now, Draco."
Draco gripped the knife as hard as he could and stood, shaking. As he exited his father's room, he caught sight of himself in a mirror. His face was even paler than usual, if that was possible, and beads of sweat decorated his forehead. He looked a mess.
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Harry was running.
Thump. Slap. Thump. Slap.
His heart matched the beat of his shoes slapping the ground furiously as he darted through the passageway.
Thump. Slap. Thump. Slap.
He had entered Manor territory, he knew that. Voldemort was waiting.
Thump- thump. Slap! Thump-thump-thump. Slap!
He was going to see Ginny again.
Thump. Slap-slap! Thump. Slap-slap!
He was almost there, he was slowing.
Thump. Slap… Thump. Slap… Thump… Slap…
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"So… what happens now?" Ginny was huddled up on the wall, leaning against Luna, who was sleeping.
Ron bit the inside of his cheek. "I don't know. I was just wondering… why did they separate the walls between our cells? It just gives us a more likely chance to escape."
"I think something must be happening- something important." Neville pointed out. "Hermione's been released, we've been reunited. They must think that it's no longer worth keeping us so heavily guarded."
"But what does that mean?" Luna said. Apparently, she hadn't been sleeping.
Neville sighed. "I don't know!"
Ginny frowned. "I suppose we just wait, then."
And that's what they did.
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The walk to the library was the longest, and most painful walk Draco had ever taken.
When it came to life, Draco never fully realized things until they were happening. He hadn't realized the pure evilness of the Dark Mark until he was branded. He never realized the scarring experience of murdering until he had done it. And he was sure that right now, he still hadn't fully realized what he was about to do. It was more like a surreal dream, and he was going to wake up before anything bad happened.
He was just waiting to wake up.
The colors on the walls seemed to mix and swirl together as he walked by. He then realized why- he was crying. Or about to, anyway. Lucius would be furious. "Killing is a part of being a Death Eater," he would say. And it was, and Draco had to accept that. At one point, he even had the sick, twisted enjoyment of torture. But that had never been Hermione. With her, it was different. With her, it was love.
One tear spilled down his cheek.
He turned the next corner. Lucius and the Dark Lord would be waiting outside those library doors once he entered them. And if he didn't murder Hermione, Narcissa would surely be killed, and likely himself as well. He was never a Gryffindor! He wasn't cut out for this. Strangely, though, he felt that he might have given his life for her. Maybe it wasn't Gryffindor-ness that did that to you, maybe it was love. Maybe this whole time, the only things that made Gryffindors Gryffindors was love. And the Slytherins were just deprived of that. Until now.
Another tear spilled down.
He turned the last corner, and saw the dreaded double doors at the end of the hallway. Slowly, he took the steps on the carpeted floor as though he was walking to his own death sentence, not Hermione's. He wiped the remaining tears from his eyes, wanting his act to be as realistic as possible. She wouldn't have to know he loved her, because she most likely didn't return the feeling. It was less painful if she went thinking he was just an evil Death Eater.
Two steps forward, and he found himself face-to-face with the doors. Faintly, he could hear crying coming from inside. Wonderful, one more thing that has to make this more painful, he thought.
He wretched the doors open, and stepped inside.
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When Hermione heard the doors open, she knew it was Draco, so she didn't bother to hide her books or wipe her tears. Instead, she cried even harder. She was so busy weeping that she didn't notice Draco's pale face, his trembling hands, or his damp hair.
"Hermione? What's wrong?" Draco walked to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"I… I…" she wanted to tell him she loved him, but couldn't choke the words out. "It's… Harry."
Draco's face fell. "Oh… Harry. What about Harry?"
"Well, he's coming, Draco! And I'm worried. What happens to me? To you?" His heart lifted at her worry about him.
"Well, things will turn out to be how they're supposed to be," Draco said. He couldn't promise her, however, that something wouldn't happen to her. It was unavoidable.
Instead of feeling better, Hermione felt worse, and burst into a fresh wave of tears. Suddenly, she threw her arms around Draco and held him close. Draco was surprised.
"Draco, I… I have something to tell you." Hermione stuttered. Her voice was muffled, as it was coming from behind his shoulder.
Draco didn't know what was coming. Did she know what was going to happen? He couldn't bear to hear this; he reached over and pulled out the dagger. It looked so sharp, so dangerous, in his hand, and Hermione's trembling body against his was so innocent, it was unbearable. Another tear escaped his eye, and he body quivered in a convulsion of shaking.
Hermione felt it, loosened her grip a bit, and whispered in his ear worriedly, "Are you alright?"
"I… Hermione…" Draco bit his lower lip hard and squinted his eyes. Do it! Now! He raised the knife higher and poised it above Hermione's back. His hand was shaking so hard, there could have been an earthquake going on.
"Draco?" she whispered questioningly.
"Hermione- I- I'm sorry." Draco breathed in her scent one last time, raised the knife higher, and prepared to bring it down. But, he gave her one last moment before he did.
One last moment for her to take a last breath.
One last moment for her to take a last sight.
One last moment for her have a last thought.
One last moment for her to drop her last tear.
One last moment for her to, maybe, just maybe, Draco was hoping, to tell him she loved him.
But she didn't.
He slowly brought the silvery metal down, about to strike, then-
Let it clatter to the ground.
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A/N- Ha ha! I was originally going to make this chapter longer, but I decided to end it here. Hope you enjoyed! If you want the next chapter, the review! I need the encouragement. (Seriously.) So REVIEW! Thanks
~Potato
