"Victory is always bittersweet." - Nadia Scrieva
"Stupefy!" Hermione sent at a Death Eater.
The Death Eater dodged it and grinned. His mask flew off as another red light was shot towards him and he cast a quick shielding charm. It was Dolohov, she's sure, and he didn't seem to forgive easily from their last encounter. With a triumphant smirk, he muttered a spell - a dark one since not even Hermione could name it- and she was hit before she could react.
She immediately crumpled into a pile on the floor, limply. She was, at least, satisfied to see Dolohov get shot in the back with a stray Killing Curse. From her position, she couldn't see who had cast it in the ruins of Hogwarts castle. With all the strength she could muster, she dragged herself into a corner for safety. She flinched when several other Death Eaters chased a group of her classmates as they ran by. She tried to raise her wand to help them but she could barely lift her finger, yet alone her whole arm. Every muscle in her body ached and, starting from her toes, she could feel herself wasting away, like fire melting her bones. She had no idea where Ron and Harry were, after being accidently separated from them and individually ambushed by different Death Eaters. Panting, she tried to fight the blackness that was threatening to cave in but she had a hopeless feeling she could not fight it forever. Just then, a flash of platinum blonde hair caught her eye just feet away and, at once, she knew who it was.
"Malfoy..." she murmured weakly. Now she was on her deathbed, she made a split-second choice to admit her cleverly, and carefully, concealed feelings for her childhood tormentor.
His eyes snapped towards her limp form. "What do you want, Granger?" he hissed.
"Come here," she whispered, certain he would not attack her.
He hesitated for the briefest of seconds before glancing around to make sure no one was around and drew nearer cautiously. He attempted to hide the note of fear in his next words, as she looked so weak, so pale. He forced some contempt in his voice. "What?"
"I'm dying," she said, closing her eyes. The reality of it all seemed too abrupt. It hit her with a jolt as the words began to sink in. She would never see the end of the War and she wouldn't see Harry or Ron or her parents again. She wouldn't see Ginny or the rest of the Weasleys, or Luna, or Neville. She wouldn't be able to have children and watch them grow up. She wouldn't be able to be a grandmother. She would be... gone.
"Stay awake, Granger! Awake!" In her half-conscious state, she was sure that there was a hint of panic. Willing for her actions to take control, she forced her eyes open.
"I can't. I'm dying." She tilted her chin slightly and Draco leant down involuntarily so she could whisper in his ear. "I love you." She kissed him gently. Leaning back, she sighed sweetly, bitterly, and let her eyes slide shut.
'"Granger!" He muttered frantically and could feel a bit of rage kicking in. "Damnit, Granger, you can't just die! Wake up! I -" but whatever he was going to say was drowned by the sound of people coming closer. Wrenching himself painfully away from the unconscious girl, he hid behind a nearby statue, refusing to believe his eyes were damp.
"Ron, this way!" Definitely Potter. "Wait - duck!"
"I'm coming!" And Weasley.
"God, if Hermione's hurt..." He heard Harry say wretchedly.
"She can handle herself," Ron said confidently as they ran in, sidestepping jinxes and curses. "I'm sure she's fi-" He stopped short at the sight of Hermione's lifeless form.
"Hermione!" Harry yelled, lunging forward in his haste and Draco shifted; making sure the statue covered him. "Hermione!"
Ron grabbed her wrist, feeling for her pulse. He looked up, pale but mildly relieved. "She's got a pulse! Very weak but she's got it!" He picked her up carefully in a cradle lift and proceeded out of the room, Harry silently trailing after him, with his wand held aloft. There was no doubt their faces mirrored each other's - dread, guilt, panic.
Draco stayed behind the statue, even after they went. He choked back what could only be a sob.
He hoped for the sake of himself, the sake of Hermione, and the sake of everyone, it'd be over soon.