Disclaimer: Please see previous chapters. Harry Potter is not mine.
A/N: Thanks so much for the response to the last chapter. Yes, it was quite a big twist in the end. Not the last to come, I assure you… As for the mystery surrounding her death, we'll get to the truth of that soon enough. Anyway, I'm so pleased with all the lovely feedback that I posting this chapter early. It was quite difficult to write so I hope it makes sense and keeps your interest. Now, to back to Hermione.
Stolen
Chapter 28: Out of Time
She could honestly say knew how he felt. Her reaction had been, oddly enough, almost the same when Remus had called her to the side that evening at Grimmauld place. There was that same feeling in the air that had hung in the Malfoy's entrance hall when they arrived, a strange stillness. She had wanted to run before he said anything. Felt faint, cold. Wanted to sink to her knees, melt in to the wall behind her, crawl in the cabinet of Kreacher's nearby and never come out. Just like Draco, however, she had stared in disbelief and rather than screaming and hitting someone in the face, she had walked calmly away, crying soundlessly. It wasn't real, she reasoned. It couldn't be. That's why she couldn't fall apart yet. It was just cruel joke.
She followed Draco to his room, though he appeared not to see her. His face had a dangerous looking scowl on, but she knew it to be hiding his grief. She let herself into his room.
He was staring out the window on a hideously clear and quiet night. He seemed to be talking more himself than her when he muttered, guiltily. "We were laughing, watching a play. We sat calmly in our box as she died, probably screaming for me. I should have been there." It sent chills down Hermione's spine. Irony.
Oh how she knew what he meant! So many times she had thought of what may have happened had she been home that night her parents were killed. She should have been at home with her family, she had told herself angrily as she was certain Draco was doing now.
"It's not your fault. You couldn't have known. Even if you had been there it may not have made a difference. It may have been harder for her." She tried to comfort him with the same words Remus offered her, and Harry. In the end all she could offer was a heartfelt but meaningless, "Draco I'm-I'm so sorry."
"Stay away from me." He told her with sick abhorrence.
"Wh-what?" she stuttered, at a total loss.
"Your friends killed my mother!" he turned and roared.
"And yours killed mine and my father!" she snapped back, instantly covering her mouth in shock. Then, softer, she offered, "Do you know it was them? Do you know it was my friends? Last time I checked Voldemort would kill his own people as fast anyone else if he felt the need."
"Father won't say what happened, but that could not be it. My father would have interfered!" he concluded with fervor, perhaps trying to convince himself.
"Maybe." She squeaked in little more than a whisper. She knew it was dangerous, but she had to plant that seed of thought in his mind. He literally growled. "Or maybe he didn't know." She quickly went on, moving forward with a face filled with genuine concern. "Maybe it all happened too fast."
He turned away.
"Or maybe you're right and the Order as responsible." She could feel the hatred pulsating off of him in hot waves. "Hell, maybe it was Harry or Ron who cast the curse. But if that happened I can assure you of one thing: it did not happen with her back turned, in her own home. It was not a trick. She was dueling with them and she chose to fight. People who live by the sword… on both sides…" she drifted off, left it hanging. She moved closer to him cautiously, taking his arm softly. He tore away from her grasp. She closed her eyes in hurt.
"I didn't wish her any harm." She wanted- no needed- him to know. "Look I'm not saying it was fair or okay even, but how is turning on me on our friendship going to change that? I know you are angry. Really, trust me I know. You're thinking of doing things you never before dreamed yourself capable of, but think about what you do for heaven's sake! Think about the choices you have."
"And if I chose to go against them what will happen to me, to my family?" At last he was speaking about it, what this whole puppet show had been intended to dance around. There it was before them in the open, the real question that had been there ripping him apart all along.
She leapt on it, prepared as ever. "A world in which Voldemort reigns is one in which everyone must live in fear, as we have been living. You know what that is like: carefully making each move because it might be your last, the lives of your family depending on a single madman's mood. Yes, you may live in such a world if you win his favor but for how long can you keep that favor, at what cost, and what kind of life is that? Is that what you want for yourself, for your family when you are head of the Malfoys? Is it fair to choose that sort of life for your children?" She was going for the appeal to his loyalty, his fear. She knew him well in that regard.
"So I should choose what? To live in world where Harry Potter is everyone's king and savior?" he spat, facing her again. "Where pure blood means nothing anymore? Where beasts and slave elves and mudbloods run Hogwarts and only part of our past is honored because Slytherin is unpopular? Where my children are looked down own for their noble heritage because it's not common or mixed enough; one where the contributions of my ancestors, their sacrifices, are utterly forgotten because it's no longer politically correct to honor them? Your friends will never fully trust me, never grant me respect. Don't you see? No matter what I do or what I chose I can never be on your side because I'm not welcome. They want to hold me accountable for the sins of my father."
"And you don't wish the same thing by holding mudbloods accountable for the death of your ancestor?" she threw back at him.
"Hypocrites!" he hissed. "Does not Potter hate Snape for holding him to his father's name? You said being a Malfoy doesn't mean aim selfish or untrustworthy, but being a member of the Order doesn't make you brave of honest. Look at Wormtail. They are killers too and some of them enjoy it just as much. Sirius. Moody. There is no difference between your side and mine."
"You can't honestly believe that." She scoffed. "Have you learned nothing from me? The difference is what we're fighting for!"
"And what are you fighting for?" he shouted. Then, desperation evident on his face, he repeated softly. "What are you fighting for?"
"Well I- I'm fighting because everything and everyone I love is being threatened."
"Likewise." He spat.
"But don't you see the difference? Look at who what you love, what it does to people, as opposed to me. If you were on our side no one would harm you, while I can't become a Death Eater even if I wanted to. Look who you're following and what he does, what kind of misery and destruction follow in his wake. Hypocrite? Well there is no bigger hypocrite than Voldemort. Tom Riddle is a mudblood. You cannot honestly buy the sales pitch about pureblood society, a utopia. That may have been his childhood dream but he's moved beyond that now. He wants power and control. He wants revenge against Harry. The more power he gets the more he fears the loss of it. You, his followers, are not his friends, he has no regard for your wants. He's never had a friend in his life. You are merely his pawns, to be disregarded without hesitation should business require it. You think he cares about family? He has no family of his own. He killed his family, grew up and orphan, made no family of his own. How can you trust someone who loves nothing? He cares about no one but himself."
"But my father swore him allegiance. Am I to turn on my blood? What am I then? What do you want from me? Do you not understand who I am, who I was born to be? I am a Death Eater, a Malfoy, a pureblood snob, a muggle hater! I loathe Potter. I am a Slytherin, not a ruddy Grfiyyndor, by choice! These are my decisions. My loyalties have been decided for me. I am who I am, not this man you want me to be. "
"You're wrong. You are a Malfoy, a pureblood, a snob, and a Slytherin, but you're not like them. You're not a killer. You don't hate me. If you don't get out now, you'll become one. He'll steal your soul, suck it from you. Not like a dementor attack but slowly, gradually. He'll turn you into a bad person."
"I AM A BAD PERSON!" he snarled in a way that would make anyone watching not the least bit doubtful of that affirmation.
"No you're not." She continued to protest stubbornly. "You're not a hero or a saint- neither am I- but you are a good person. Why are you trying to lie to me? Because you're afraid of what will happen if everyone knows you have a heart?"
"Standing up to him is no use! You will all fail. You have not seen the horrors that befall those who oppose him- I have. That fate I would do anything to avoid."
"Listen to me though. There is a way out. We can beat him. We know his secret. And I can show you how, but I'm going to need your help."
"I can't help someone who killed my mother."
"I helped your family." She reminded him quietly.
"My family didn't kill you parents Granger." He spat at last. She knew he wasn't supposed to tell her, could see it on his face that he had been holding it in for some time, but he was hurt and wanted to see her hurt, know the ugly truth as he had to face it. Maybe he still didn't want to be alone. "The ministry did, under Voldemort's thumb, and then they used their deaths to propel support for their stupid law. Protection Act my aunt ninny. They needed Potter's support, McGonagall's. Still know who you are fighting for?"
She gulped at the hard rock in the back of her throat, swallowed the bile threatening to rise. "Not for the corrupt and ignorant ministry. I'm fighting against evil, which triumphs when good men do nothing. And I'm… scared for you Draco. You wait too long to chose sides."
"Are you asking me to forget her?"
"No one you kill can bring her back, nor my mother, nor Harry's, nor Voldermort's. I'm asking you, as me to you and you alone, help me do this. Help me end this, all this. Please Draco, we can do this. You don't have to be friends with Harry or condemn your mother or change your name. You think you'll just be friendliest with whoever is winning but what you don't understand is you are the one who can decide who wins."
He had no response.
"I guess you have some thinking to do. And I'm sorry about your mother Draco, I really am."
That was it then. He was right. He made his decision. There was nothing else she could do.
"I believe you Granger." She turned.
"Well the rest I'm not sure but I – I believe you're sorry. I don't know why you would be," truly puzzled. "But you are. I can tell."
She offered him the slightest comforting smiled. His eyes shone again, his face scowled. "But you're wrong about me. I am a bad person."
"What are you talking about?" And then she saw it. He had a secret.
Still chocking on his tears he asked her, "Don't you understand? Hermione, Hermione, how daft and brilliant can you be at once? There will be no wedding between us tomorrow. There was never going to be any wedding at all."
"What do you mean?" He burned with shame, anger, and grief. She didn't know what part of him to believe. She hushed the malicious whisper in the back of her mind surfacing again. He must be lying, she told herself befuddled. She clearly remembered his mother drawing up plans for a wedding.
"You're lying! What were those plans you made for if not a wedding?"
"They were for my wedding, but you and I are never to be wed. It was never going to be that way to begin with. Why didn't you see it? I tried so hard to make you see it. You read that damned book, didn't you, 'the mark still remains'? Do you think my father would ever consider having me really marry a mudblood? Why didn't you figure it out?" He pleaded now, his voice strained as if breaking. She wasn't quite hearing him. What was he saying?
"Father only did this to get out of prison and be safe with the ministry again. I'm sure you surmised that much, but you really didn't think Voldemort would approve of that, did you? No, we had to give him a reason. We told him it was to gain access to the ministry, manipulate you, and then, consequently Potter. I blame him for this mess! If it wasn't for him none of this would have happened."
"Voldemort or Harry?"
"Both." She shot him a look, but he did not return with the usual sneer, instead his brow wrinkled into a deep and conflicting concern. It unnerved her.
"The Wedding was for me and Morrissa Gouge." She felt her breath hitch, but carefully concealed it. There was a crack in her universe and her grasp on the world was torn momentarily. The pain had reached her well guarded heart and she was confused and devastated by it.
"So that's why she acted as she did at our engagement party. That's why you were out with her. And the Death Eaters! The guests! They knew all along. They were mocking me; hiding ugly laughs behind those hideous masks. I don't think I ever felt so humiliated." She huffed, her eyes literarily burning with shame, it spread to encompass her whole quaking body. She tried to steal herself. She felt dirty.
Draco crossed the room in one swift and jagged movement. He grabbed her by her upper arms, pinching her skin painfully and drawing her whole body up to gaze directly into his heated, livid face. He had never looked so powerful or strong as he did at that moment, but his eyes were no longer burning smoke. They were a wild and foaming sea. His form pressed to her shook with rage, his voice threatened to break, and his eyes glistened like a madman. Suddenly that passion that usually filed her at such a sight, died. It was no longer an exciting fear, it was heartbreaking to see such torn and tortured panic etched on his visage. He looked like a caged wild beast lamenting and yet fighting its fate hopelessly.
"Draco? What's the matter with you?" she asked in her strained voice. Without answering, he shook her body forcefully. She could feel the places where bruises would soon spread. "Draco?"
"You don't even know what you've done, do you? You don't even know! Tell me you see it now!"
"See what?" she snapped, ignoring the pain in defiance.
He let go, almost pushing her away from him. No training in the world, nor any book, nor all of her wit, could have helped to brace her for the blow that followed. He was crying. Tears, real tears, were actually coming from his eyes. Never had Hermione seen a man cry like this.
She couldn't seem to cry. Though overwhelmed and heartbroken, her face remained dry, the lump would not rise. She only felt shock and upheaval, but somehow numb. It was as if she were watching the disaster of her life from afar.
In the face of everything that had happened, all the trails he had gone through, and all the burdens he had been forced to bear, there was one that had broken him down. Unable to look away, she stared at wet face as if it was an anomaly of nature, something that plainly shouldn't be there but existed all the same. She hated the tears and felt nothing but sympathy at the look of anguish now smothering his features.
"Draco? What's wrong?" she placed a hand apprehensively on his shoulder. His body shook and her heart leapt in an unusual emotion that could only be compared to fear. What had taken Draco, so quick to anger by default, to crying before her? When at last he spoke, his words did nothing to console. In fact, although she did not imagine it possible, she felt worse.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry."
"What are you talking about?"
"My father began this plan with the intention of saving us. At first, we had to convince Snape, then Voldemort, then you. Think Hermione. Snape needed to be used to make sure the Order would go in on it and Voldemort would only allow this plan to go forth with one condition. It was a very smart request. It proved our loyalties, eliminated all problems that may stem from it, propelled his personal plans, and alleviated all the dissention other Death Eaters were feeling.
"Tomorrow, you will prepare for a wedding that will never take place. You will be taken out onto the grounds for the ceremony to find yourself immersed in quite a different one. The only way for him to be sure of this plan is for him, is if you die-"
Hermione gasped.
"And I kill you. Only then will they have the reassurance they need."
"But the ministry-"
"Will fall tonight."
"For certain?"
"As we speak. Your fate will be sealed with that owl. It is what father has been waiting for, to show where our allegiances truly lie. It was the only way to protect the Malfoy clan, to play both sides until the stronger of the two emerged."
"And you Draco?"
"What about me?" he spat with vehemence, but she persisted.
"Where do your loyalties lie?"
"The same place your do! With my own welfare, and my family! If Harry were a Death Eater you'd follow him to the grave!"
"I would not!"
"You would! Stop lying to yourself."
"Why would say that?"
"Because I know you'd try to save me, heaven knows how far you'd go for someone you truly loved."
He might as well have slapped her. She had no comeback.
"But there was a problem, a glitch in the brilliance I did not foresee. I don't even think I saw it when it was right before me. I chose not to see it I think. It was easier that way. I didn't have to think or feel anything, I could continue to manipulate you knowing all along it was me that would have to kill you if the ministry fell. If I told myself I did not pity you, or care at all, then I could bare it. But now…"
"What's changed?"
He turned to her honestly for perhaps the first time. "I knew for sure you wouldn't do that to me, not even for yourself, or your friends. That sort of compassion and loyalty it reminded me a lot of someone I once read about. I did not think you capable of such strength, Hermione." He hung his head.
"Of course not. You were taught muggles were incapable of it. Your blood does not determine your character. We both showed each other that." He rose and touched her face, very tentatively, as is fearful she may disappear. He studied her intently, not really seeing her, before turning away.
"This is so unfair." He lamented.
"So unfair? For you? For YOU!" She was irate now, and it was his turn to feel his eyes widen in shock. She was shaking, reddening in the face, her hair flying recklessly lose from her ponytail as she shook it violently. "You have stolen my entire life from me!" she yelled directly into his face, ironically unaware of how true that really was.
"And you-" he spat with deliberate vehemence and raw disgust "have stolen my heart!"
There was no joy in the declaration, not an ounce of comfort. There was nothing she could say in response. Absolutely nothing. She just stood there, staring like she had been looking at him all this time but had never actually seen him. He plopped dejectedly on the floor and, with a very surreal feeling she lowered herself on her knees to his level. It was now or never. This was her last chance. He had been honest with her, but could she trust him with their greatest secret?
"Draco," he turned and faced her. "Please Draco, there is another way." He did not give her the chance.
"What other way? What other way is there? There is no way out of this. None. Tonight the ministry will fall and tomorrow you will die."
"Then why tell me?"
"Because … because you are right. I do not particularly want to kill anyone, least of all a friend. But,"
"But?" He avoided her gaze.
"But if you were to escape I could not help it. If you were to find a way out and I had no idea, then no amount of probing could notify them of your hiding place nor find me guilty. If your brilliance could make another show before dawn, then…" he trailed off, eyes begging her to understand.
"I understand." She said detachedly. "Goodnight Draco." She said, standing.
He leaned forward, eyes sparkling with grief. "Kiss me." He said it softly and so quietly she barely dared to believe it was said at all. When she did believe it she felt no temptation. Her body clamed up, her face contorted with a grimace she slightly turned her head. She could feel him glare at her, so she did the only thing she felt she could do: fled the room, slamming the door behind her on the angry and grieving young man who had failed her and yet tried to save her…
Back in her quarters she paced, thinking hard. Perhaps Draco would return, perhaps the elf would bring word that he had decided to flee with her and live under the protection of the Order she dared to dream, but of course no such dream could be believed. Hours passed with no sign he had come to his senses.
Emotions began to flood back as the shock wore off, leaving her trembling and sobbing, overwrought. Her mind came back as well though, and it did not take long for her logical side to come to the conclusion that she needed Snape to get her out of there. But how? How could she communicate with the Order without being discovered?
The dairy! Rushing to her desk she extracted the diary and flew to the last page. Grabbing her quill, she quickly scribbled: "Had a horrible fight with Draco. Feel as though he is not who I thought he was. I feel trapped by this marriage which is now planned to be moved forward to tomorrow. I must get out!"
She hoped that would suffice. Hermione sat on her bed and waited anxiously, tears burning her eyes and breathing unsteady. She seemed to wait forever, heart thumping away loudly in her chest, wanting to be ripped out, to bleed freely. Snape would come, she assured herself. He'll come she prayed. He
must come, she begged. Death had never felt so near, so real. It was the like cold draft on her back, the frost pressing in on the windows, and she was powerless to stop it.
At long last, her door flung open. Snape was angry, wet from the ice outside. "What is it?"
"Did you know?" she stood to face him, weeping silently but brave nonetheless. He was taken aback, shutting the door.
"What has happened?" he demanded.
"Did you know? They planned to kill me all along. Tomorrow, in the garden." She shuddered. She had walked with Draco there many times and along he had known.
He sighed. "It was not supposed to be tomorrow. Lucius just told me. Narcissa was killed so he upped the date for the wedding. He's out for your blood."
"Did you know?" she asked. There had to someone on her side, someone she could truly trust, didn't there?
"At the wedding only, if the ministry fell." He answered simply, confirming her fears. "We have tried to keep that from happening, but about the same time as your diary entry we got an owl that informed us the Dark Lord took control tonight. We planned to get you before then."
"Can you get me out now?" she asked with her voice steady though everything else in her quaked. He must have seen it, looking at her, but did not respond. "Can you get me out?" she demanded softly.
"I will try." He said, obviously thinking fast beneath the placid surface.
She began to cry openly now. How could she not? She had been betrayed and now she was going to die! Never, in her worst nightmare, has she dreamed such a fate would be hers.
"Quiet." He shushed her with surprising gentility though he made no move to comfort her. "We'll apparate from here. It will completely blow my cover, but it's the only immediate and sure way out that I see. Get your things. Make sure to bring the diary. We leave no links behind."
She nodded, racing to collect said things, but she stopped suddenly and peered over her shoulder at the man who was staring into the fire. Taking deep, calming breaths she stood. A strange feeling washed over her, she could feel it move over her and immerse her body and mind, as if everything had suddenly became very clear and simple. It was a surreal, emotionless epiphany.
"No." she told him. He snapped back around, livid.
"What do you mean no?"
"I'm the one who failed, not you. Your position is too important to the Order to be sacrificed. Without an informant inside the circle of Death Eaters we are lost."
"Don't be selfish Granger. If anyone deserves to get out of this life of deception it's me. I've paid my dues." She wasn't falling for that.
"You have nothing outside of this. You plan to die in this war. This mask is all you have."
With barely contained fury, he began to raise his voice, "Do NOT PRESUME to tell me who I am, girl!"
"I'm sorry professor," she continued quietly. Her demeanor was unnerving him. He seemed to think she'd finally cracked. She didn't really care. She knew what she had to do. Hermione Granger had never failed yet, and she wasn't about to start giving up on people now. Not when they had just given her hope. If she did that Draco was right, what was she fighting for?
"But I'm not leaving him. He doesn't want to do this. Maybe he won't. Maybe he'll back out of it, be a coward at least, but not a murderer."
"Draco?" he scoffed in disbelief. "Oh I'm sure he'll back out of it, but he'll only end up dead and then Lucius will kill you. Don't be a fool." He snarled in disgust at what he apparently considered weakness.
"But maybe he won't. Maybe we can disappear. I'll pretend I know nothing of the plan and come to the ceremony for my 'wedding', then I'll use the portkey you slip us to make us both disappear into London and from there-"
"Then it's not his choice, is it? That is the point, was it not? Besides, a portkey will be detected by their security." She had strong inclination he was referring to 'Angels of Justice'. "Face the facts, Granger, and walk away before this gets any worse."
"I will not give up on him. He tried to save me by telling me everything. You think if I escape one of you won't be killed for this? You forget who I am. I'm not stupid."
"No, but you are stubborn as hell. Look Granger, Draco is not a noble soul. He tricked you and lied to you. You owe him nothing. This was a game, not some great romance. Stop trying to be a martyr! I promised the Order I would get you out and I am not about to go back to Harry Potter and tell him I failed!" he fumed.
"Neither will I! And Draco, he's just confused, torn. He's been brainwashed into thinking he owes this to his family. He loved his mother. No doubt Voldemort suspected he would have trouble taking a life and the bastard killed her to spark Draco's fury."
"Even the most bloodthirsty Dragons coddle their own young, Hermione. You've been brainwashed by his own manipulation into thinking he's a good man."
"He's not a killer." She affirmed. He paid her vow little attention, as if she was a naïve child swearing f the existence of the Eater Bunny.
"He will be." He declared with an air of absolute certainty. "You can't save him. It's time to go home." He stated it plainly, a fact. It was logical, reasonable. But there was something else there besides logic and reason in Hermione's, something less clear.
"I have to try! It the only hope he has in our side is that we do sacrifice for others, even those who don't risk themselves for us."
"It won't work. The Dark Lord himself will be there. A portkey could never be slipped in undetected. You could go to Draco now and try to talk to him, see if you can coax him to leave, but other than there is not time for a plan. That is unless you have someone, perhaps someone more skilled, drink a polyjuice potion and take your place."
"I could not ask that of anyone."
"Are you sure?" he raised an eyebrow. She was offended he was not sure of it.
"Yes!" she affirmed.
"Then get your things! It's time to go." He grabbed her arm.
"No!" she resisted, drawing her wand.
"What has gotten into you?" he asked breathlessly, a low growl of frustration begging to rise in his throat.
"Maybe if we lied and said I was pregnant with Draco's child!" It was one of her more brilliant plans for certain. "Lucius Malfoy would never let his own precious young be killed, even if it was only half blood. It would be an abomination. If he believed that, then he would let you slip in the portkey right under Voldemort's nose. Draco could go to his father tonight and beg him, then Lucius would surely come to you and ask you to take me to the Order…"
"Not a bad idea Granger," Hermione felt a spark of triumph. "That is, until he performs a simple spell to see if you're lying." The spark died.
"Isn't there some sort of potion that could help me fake a pregnancy?" she appealed.
"Yes, if I had a lab and tree weeks to brew it." He informed her promptly.
"Oh." She said, her hope faltering like an injured bird and then plummeting to earth.
"You're out of straws, Granger, and out of time."
IMPORTANT A/N: So this was a fairly short chapter, but it was very important. Actually, this chapter and the next two of part III are pretty much the climax of the story. There were many BIG revelations in this part, so much so I thought of naming it Revelations part I. I have planned on this from the beginning, just to let you know. Does Draco's wishy-washy behavior make some sense now? But what are Hermione and Draco going to do next? Leave a review and you'll find out soon!