Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. Please see previous chapters for thurough disclaimer.

A/N: I am so impressed, yet again, with all of your great support of this story! Last chapter received the greatest response yet and we've just hit 700 hundred reviews. Many thanks also to all the people who added this fanfic to their favorite lists.

So, here it is: the final chapter of Part III. Sorry this one is yet again very short. Remember, we still have two more 'Part's to go. Thanks again for your support thus far and if you're still confused about the part division check out the clarification table of context below. Next week, we start Part IV. As always, thanks for reading! To avoid confusion you should note that this chapter actually moves back in time to where chapter 28 left off.

Stolen

"The heart has its reasons reason knows nothing of."-Blaise Pascal.

Part I: Hermione's Trap (Chapters 1-13)

Part II: Hogwarts (Chapters 14-22)

Part III: Christmas (Chapters 23-30)

Chapter 30: The Origin of the Tombs

"You're out of straws Granger, and out of time."

She sat, or rather dropped, dejectedly on her bed and looked around her hopelessly as if actually searching for an answer that might appear out of thin air. Frantically, her mind was scavenging for a thought that might retain a glimmer of hope. Why was she so determined not to leave Draco behind? He deserved it, didn't he? That was what he wanted, was it not? It was what he had chosen.

"First light has dawned." Snape's voice grew urgent. "Let's go." Again, he grabbed hold of her arm. This time she could break free.

"Wait; let me think a little while longer."

"Why for Merlin's sake are you fighting me on this? This is your life we're talking about, and it's disappearing as fast as the night outside and our time left to escape. I understand you've discovered bad people aren't always evil. Congragulations, now grow up!" he spat. "I thought you were smarter than this! This is his choice, Hermione." The man hissed in her ear. "You haven't failed if that's what you're worried about, not unless you stay here and let yourself be killed, for nothing."

She was confused, and perplexed as to why exactly she was so confused. Why could she not tear herself from the spot? Why could she not stop glancing at the door, hoping he would burst through the door at any minute? Barely understanding what she was saying, Hermione bit the tips of her fingers and told Snape in a hushed voice. "There's something else you must know. Something's happened."

"What?" He raised his eyebrows.

"It's what I was afraid of, what Harry was afraid of!" she said with sadness, even shame, realizing the truth at last. She felt sick. "I think I have feelings for him, just like you warned me not to, just like-"

"Dumbledore wanted." He finished for her.

"What?" She felt as if he had just struck her. Slack jawed for a moment, she could barely manage to stammer to the composed man before her; "You mean Dumbledore, planned this?" She was incredulous and a little hurt. "He wanted this to happen. He used me, made me pretend to love Draco knowing I would start to fall for him and then I would save him. I was his pawn and Draco was Voldemort's." She ended with disdain.

"No," he corrected "You were his hope, his dying and most desperate hope, to save a man who spared his life from a fate worse than death. You have done your part Hermione. Draco lacked the strength, or the courage, to do his. The old man believed too much in people."

"Or maybe just enough."

"What are you talking about?" he sighed, or rather growled, in exasperation.

She stood and paced a bit. She was resolved now, she understood. When Harry had first told her about the prophecy she had been so perturbed by his resigned compliance, his acceptance. She had tried to make him see that life was about free will for everyone. Whether they are house elves, muggle-borns, wizards, squibs, muggles, centaurs, half giants, werevolves, or vampires, everyone had a choice in their destiny. Now she saw something else, her own destiny and it was clear as any answer she had ever known. There was no walking away from what she now knew she must do, what was needed of her. She had hoped and looked for an answer that would save everyone, her friends, Snape, and Draco, and she was so close to it she could taste it. She could feel the ends dangling, waiting to be tied together. There was no turning back now.

"Damnit girl, enough with the teenage theatrics, this is not some great romance. He tried to brainwash you, remember? I'm going to get you out of here if I have drug you, so grab that diary and shut your-"

"That's it!" she suddenly exclaimed.

"What?"

"It's brilliant, professor Snape, just brilliant. Why didn't I think of it before?"

She was ecstatic, practically bouncing up and down. His expression clearly indicated he thought she'd really gone mad at last.

She was babbling on in choppy sentences, they way she did when she thought of something and was still piecing it together, filling in the details mentally, checking for hurtles. She was nothing, after all, if not thorough. The answer had come. It had been there all along really, waiting for her to be ready for it. Looking back at what had led her to the solution she had sought, it seemed many things were pointing to this moment.

"Drug me?" she repeated in disbelief. "Our very first potions lesson, that awful Skeeter woman said, great romance…it all fits!"

"Miss Granger you try my patience. You will explain yourself." So, she did.

She explained how in their very first potions lesson he had asked Harry several questions, one of which was 'what would I get if I added powered root of asphodel to an infusion or wormwood?'

Even in the midst of all that was going on, he seemed once again taken aback by her intellectual capacity for memorization.

"The correct answer of course was a sleeping potion so powerful it's called-"

"The Draught of the Living Death." He said slowly.

"Exactly." She said triumphantly.

"Of course, but how did you-?"

"You gave me the idea for that as well: some great romance, teenage theatrics. That awful Skeeter woman was right, a modern Romeo and Juliet."

"You do recall," he asked sardonically. "How that turned out for the first people to try it, do you not?"

"Well, it worked out well for Sleeping Beauty, and Snow White."

"Oh God, don't tell me Draco's your prince now?" he said in a mix of skepticism and disgust.

"No." she shot him a reproachful look, "Just not my enemy."

"I see," he said folding his arms. "And how do you plan to carry out this genius little plan of yours?"

"The elf!" she exclaimed. She thought she spotted the phantom of a ghost pulling at his lips. "She's bound to serve me, so if you leave to brew the potion and I send her to pick it up, she'll have to do it. Send with it an antidote to and tied to it a note in your hand so he won't question it. I'll stage things here, make it look like I was attacked in the night."

"He'll blame himself."

"Yes, he will. If he comes to you, instruct him to come to me, to make amends with the dead."

"Voldemort will test it."

"I know. Will I be able to withstand it under the effects of the potion?"

"Yes, unless of course he casts another killing curse for good measure."

She shuddered. That was certainly a possibility. Of course staying here without the plan meant certain death and as for running…she wouldn't. Someone unwilling to risk their life for their friends did not deserve to live. She wasn't a bloody Gryffindor for no reason after all!

"It's a risk we'll have to take," she told him. He seemed more willing to accept this. "And what will they do with my body?"

"Voldemort plans to have you incased in the Malfoy tomb, most likely to keep your friends from getting your body and to punish the Malfoys, but things could change…"

"That will work well if he does that! Just perfectly, and he does change his mind and I am buried, well, I won't really know so I guess it won't matter. What do you think?"

"I think it sounds like the perfect opportunity for many things to go horribly wrong," she stared at him. He sighed. "But it may work."

"Good. You must hurry. Go."

"Don't tell me what to do Granger."

"Sorry," she added bashfully.

He turned to go, all too aware of the time. At the door, he hesitated and turned back with an odd, torn expression on his face. He seemed to be looking at her as if it was the last time he would ever set eyes on her again.

"Are you sure?" he asked vigorously.

"Quite." She responded certainly. "I'll get things ready here."

The door shut and he was gone.

Alone in her room she thought little of her plan and even less of the ways in which it was not foolproof. Instead, she went to work. She threw things around, blasted the shelves with spells, and singed the ends of the bed spread and carpet. That's good, she thought, surveying the mess. She searched her drawers, pulling them out and strewing things about. She withdrew a skiving snack box and chewed it, giving herself a nosebleed. That would look like she'd been cursed, put up a fight. The diary was a final touch. She took it out and left it open to the last entry that would explain her apparent suicide to Draco, who would know immediately she was not murdered. Or at least, she hoped he would, hoped the diary would give it away at once.

She then summoned Knobby. The elf would have to think she was going to kill herself in act of joint loyalty and defiance. If she knew the truth, it would only put both of them in danger. She tearfully told her to go Snape's home and retrieve to bottles and a note she was forbidden to leave. The elf was startled, but obedient. When she left, Hermione's nerve got the better of her. She raced to the bathroom and lost her supper. Swiftly, she steeled herself for the house elf would soon be back and she was. Hermione was about to explain what she was to do when the elf proudly asked Hermione if she wanted to see the wedding dress the elves had prepared for tomorrow. Her eyes watered and the elf was quick to apologize, whole heartedly.

"No need." Hermione told her kindly. "You just leave it on the chair."

The poor thing became distraught when Hermione left her the note, bottle, and instructions. She knew what was going to happen, clever thing, and tried to persuade Hermione to go out to the gardens, probably to run away. Silly, sweet thing. Hermione tried to comfort her and told her to get some sleep. Practically being pushed through the door, the elf finally left her alone.

She allowed herself on glance at the dress before she took the potion. It really was very well done. There were several layers of white gossamer fabric as the primary part, around the hips, an extra layer was gracefully bunched and draped. The top part was fixed like a corset, embroidered with tiny pearls in intricate pattern that made ivy and a pair of flowers. Up the sides, at the chest and hip, there was red ribbon, just enough to add an accent to it. It would also match her hair clip, she noticed. The texture was so soft she could resist but rub her fingers along its length. She had always dreamed of a bright summer wedding with a mix of many soft and vibrant colors against a backdrop of white and lavender, flowers. This was different. It felt like the season, wintry, but it was made with so much care and adoration and pride. She imagined it in the snow outside in the garden. It would have been beautiful.

A trickle of blood still flowing from her nose fell on it. Remarkably, the drops matched to a tea. She tore herself away from it and undressed, tossing her cloths about. One couldn't make it look too civil of this lot would never buy it. Sitting in her bed, the sheets wrapped around her, she took a deep breath, looked up at the clock. It ticked away uncaringly at one may be her last minutes. Under the pillow, where she had told Knobby to look in the morning, were the second vial and the scrap of paper. On it, Snape had written the words: "Give her the antidote." With it, she was to place the empty vial to be disposed of.

Her hands trembled as she lifted the container to her lips. Her senses, all feeling astute, seemed to perceive things in slow motion. Her heart leapt and pounded, as if it was keen to her idea and wanted out of this mess. She told it calm down and, summoning all her courage, swallowed the potion. She began to feel its effects almost immediately. There was that moment of poise when she was unsure if it had worked quickly forgotten as her eyelids began to dip heavily. Her chest felt heavy as well. All of her did.

"Wait," she said, or maybe thought. "I've forgotten something." Using all her remaining energy she forced herself from the bed, but tangled in the sheets, she slipped. Something was wrong. "Wait." She said again. And then, even in her odd position, she calmly fell into a deep sleep.

When she awoke, Draco was over her, his face illuminated strangely in the torch light and she started in surprise thinking, "Oh no, it shouldn't be over that fast."

Draco's already pallid face turned ashen and he backed away from her figure, falling over the raised platform. He tumbled to the hard stone floor with a thud and as she leaned over to look at him, not yet sure of her bearings, she noticed his eyes were almost as wide as hers. Then, she fell over on top of him.

There was grunt and an exclamation of pain and then their faces were suddenly very close, their noses almost pressing together. She would never admit it, but there was something comforting in It at that moment, though she may not be able to put her finger on exactly why.

"What in the bloody hell," he panted breathlessly. "Is going on?" She felt him trembling underneath her. Bloody coward, she reflected sourly. She rolled her eyes, coming back to reality.

"Well, obviously I'm not dead. So what's happened while I was asleep?" she said simply, rolling off him and rubbing her eyes as things began to come back into focus.

"A-a-a-asleep?" he stuttered like a frightened child.

She stood, dusting herself off. There wasn't much time left.

"Come on. There isn't much time. How do we get passed the rooms they are in and out into the garden without them seeing us? Draco?"

He laid on the floor and look at her as if she were mad, or perhaps as if he was.

She knelt, reaching to him slowly. He cringed and backed away swiftly.

"Are you a ghost Granger?"

"No. I took a sleeping potion one powerful enough to keep me asleep all this time. The sleeper can only be roused by the antidote."

"I thought it was true love's first kiss." She was about to laugh, but stopped. He wasn't joking. His eyes had a strange, distant quality to them. She frowned in concern. "I saw you die," he tried to tell her.

"You haven't gone batty have you?"

He rubbed his forehead looking distressed. "I don't know." He replied honestly. Again, her eyebrows shot upwards, but immediately she composed herself again. He had experienced too much too quickly, he was about to go into shock. It was overwhelming him and he was about to crash. Gently she rubbed his shoulder, trying to show him she was real.

"I'm alive, Draco. I have been all along. It was a plan you see, only I can't explain now. We have to leave or they'll kill us both. I'm terribly sorry for doing this to you. I am, but we've got to leave now. You've got to come along now. How do we get into the garden?"

"The elves." He half whispered.

"The elves?" she repeated baffled.

"The elf passages, servant passages."

"Okay, how?"

"We've got to the kitchens."

"How?"

"Through the dining room where the Dark Lord and all his Death Eaters are," He replied.

"Oh my God, I should have thought have that before." She put her hand to her mouth.

"We can summon Knobby but then she'll know if they ask her."

"We could take her with us."

"If they summon her she's magically bound to return." Just then, somewhere high above them, there was a rather loud thump. Both heads shot upwards, mouth open.

"Come on Hermione think!" she told herself forcefully. They can't come down here yet." Nervously her eyes darted around, searching for a solution. There must be a solution. If only an idea would come to her. Think. Think. Think. Another thud, this one softer, carried down into the depths of the tomb. She whined anxiously. Next to her, Draco seemed mesmerized by thin air. He wouldn't be any help.

Come on Hermione, she told herself. Where is that light bulb? Nothing. They were trapped mice, waiting to be discovered or die, most likely both. A draft carried through the tunnels of the catacombs.

"The tunnel!" Draco shouted in a hushed voice.

"What?"

"Our catacombs are intricate tunnels that lead deep down under the earth, right under our garden!"

"But how do we dig up that far?"

"We don't have to dig. The beginnings of these tunnels were begun by the Malfoys when they were in hiding, to let the children escape. Those that caught them knew of the secrets tunnels because they were betrayed by their friends. At the other end of the tunnels are the first crypts at the house of Casus Malfoy and his family. That's where the air comes from down here, it leaks in."

"Draco!" she gasped, lunging forward and wrapping him a big hug. "You're a genius!" He looked vaguely surprised, but had no reaction apart from that. He seemed numb, as if in a dream. Perhaps he thought he was dreaming. He seemed very confused. Watching someone dead come back to life must be rather upsetting, and he had just lost his mother. She looked at him again in a concerned manner. She really had to hurry before it caught up with him. She couldn't get away with him falling apart all over the place. Focus on the task at hand, she told herself, that will keep him calm. "Which tunnel?"She asked.

"I'm not sure." He squinted into the darkness. "Maybe this one." He indicated the one leading from their chamber to a lower one.

"It's a starting place." She sighed, hurrying forward. She performed a simple spell to use her wand as a compass while Draco lit his, abandoning his torch inside the tomb. It was very dark underneath the earth, inside the wet underbelly of the world. They ran. Often they came upon dead ends, stumbled upon rats, slipped, fell down, and scraped their hands and knees. Still they kept running. They kept on running though the cold air stung their lungs and they were dizzy with being lost so many times. They ran so long they no longer noticed the eerie stare form the eyeless sockets of so many corpses, nor the strange and putrid odor, nor the masses of cobwebs tangling in their legs and hitting them in face. As the air grew colder, they realized they were at long last headed in the right direction, but they grew still more apprehensive. What if someone where waiting for them? What if somehow they had discovered their plan? They had been in the tunnels so long they had lost track of time, could they have discovered her body was missing already?

Light became visible ahead; just the faintest light, and then she realized with jubilation that they were nearing a trap door. Standing ready on either side of it with their wands erect and taking a steadying breath they were listened in the silence for a sign that someone might be waiting above. There was none. Hermione cast a spell to open the door which flung aside like a cellar door and immediately Draco sent a stunning hex into the room above them. There was a startled yelp and then someone, or something, fell to the floor.

They both leapt in surprise but remained silent, poised, and ready. There was no retaliation. Throwing questioning cautious glances at one another they waited, straining their ears, but the only thing they heard was the sharp cry of a falcon, possibly Draco's. Hastily, the two scrambled out, nearly tripping over Draco's dog Porthos who lay stiff on the floor of the cottage turned falcon roost. That had been the form Draco had stunned then. He must have heard them coming up ad came to investigate. She felt rather sorry for the poor surprised thing, as did Draco apparently who petted him apologetically before fleeing the cottage. Once in the clearing of the woods, they looked at one another wide eyed and breathless. Hermione then extracted the stopper placed on the potion vial and safely tucked away the vial itself along with the note from Snape.

She looked at him in his bathrobe and she in her wedding dress, both rather dirty and cold. "Not the most inconspicuous outfit, but it will have to work." She shrugged, trying to be light hearted. Draco just stared at her oddly.

"Grab this," she instructed, holding up the cork. He did so only at the last minute and, after that sickening pull around the navel, they were jolting forward to another place. The world around them disappeared and in a split second everything, even the very earth beneath their feet, had changed.

A/N: Exciting? I hope you enjoyed it, please review!

Some of you wondered why Hermione could not simply apparate from the Manor, or apparate with Snape. That would give away that someone had warned her and Draco or Snape might be blamed. Snape's plan was to apparate with her and blow his cover, but she objected. Some also hypothesized that knobby and Hermione switched places, and that was quite clever, but Hermione said she could not ask anyone to do that in chapter 28 when snape proposed it as that would be asking them to risk or maybe even sacrifice their life for hers. She's a Gryffindor! Also, the polyjuice potion, she's already learned the hard way, is for human transformation only. Some of you were quite close! Most of you suspected I did not kill her off, since I have two more parts to this story to go, but you know me, I couldn't resist a cliff hanger. Nice guess on the four words btw!

Next…Part IV