Sorry this is late and of course, my being lax in responding! It's December and it's my busiest month both writing and real life. I've got a Secret Santa exchange for my other fandom, a drabble ficathon and I'm writing a hopefully short piece for the GE December challenge. So…anyway, I hope you like this next segment – it kind of leads into the next part of this story which will separate Dramione for awhile. But I'll talk more on that later! Enjoy and if I don't get another chapter posted by Christmas, hopefully everyone has a lovely holiday. And I promise to respond to reviews within the next few weeks.

LCailan

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Marcus turned around when he saw Pansy's eyes flicker with interest at something behind him. There stood Fenrir wearing the same disgusting smirk that he always wore right before he made a conquest. This was unsurprising; Fenrir was the kind of man who was able to manipulate women into seeing beyond his animalistic, twisted side. Marcus wanted to know that secret.

The part that surprised him was the woman who happened to be at Fenrir's side. Astoria Greengrass Malfoy.

"How about that," he commented then as Pansy turned around, her expression still cold though he knew there was something beneath that iciness. Something bitter and hateful. "Looks like the wolf has a new Riding Hood."

Pansy rolled her eyes.

"It's disgusting," she spat.

"Coming from you?"

"Piss off, Flint. I'm warning you. What you and I had once was…and involving him-"

There was a moment when Pansy lost all ability to speak; in that moment she thought back to her rocky relationship with Marcus. She thought of those few times that she had given in to Marcus' strange, dirty desires and Fenrir had-

"She had everything," Pansy hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "Everything and she never once loved it- loved HIM! Never! And she comes here and offers herself to Fenrir like some sort of wanton whore?"

There was nothing, no words, no volume of passion enough to express what was in Pansy's heart. She could only stare at the wooden table her face a mask of utter despair. And Marcus wondered if it was possible to love someone more than he loved the woman seated in front of him while hating her at the same time. It confused him; the dizzying emotions seemed to flow within rendering him completely helpless on the outside.

How could he love her so and she not feel an ounce of that? How was it that he had given her so much over the years and she had never looked on him the way he hoped she would? The way he imagined all those long nights in the library at Hogwarts when she had been a first-year?

No, Marcus didn't understand much about the finite points of human relationships but he did understand her pain and frustration.

"It's over Malfoy, isn't it?"

She blinked, startled.

"Malfoy is dead. Whatever they had-"

She fell silent but he could still feel her pain and the longing in the ears of his mind. She would never want him the way she had wanted Malfoy; he would never been good enough and maybe…she didn't even know.

"It's hard, wanting someone that doesn't want you."

Once more her hatred melted away to reveal shock.

"What do you know?"

Marcus felt stupid; perhaps it was the way she spoke those words, the disdain in her tone. Perhaps it was something else. Either way, his tongue cleaved to the top of his dry mouth and somehow, nothing came out.

"You used to help me in lessons all the time. Remember?"

Her dark eyes focused on his face and Marcus felt like she had the power to shrink him with her piercing gaze. He had always likened her eyes to two beautiful, onyx gems. Her eyes were as mysterious as the stones themselves. But now he didn't want her looking at him the way she was, as if she could see into his very soul.

"I remember."

There was a silence between them but it was filled by the rowdy crowd as it swam around them in the Tabernacle. Marcus felt like time had stopped for him; he felt as if he and Pansy were in their own world, apart from the others. Just like he had always hoped. Finally, he had her full attention. It wasn't like other times. It wasn't like she was coming to him frustrated and in need of physical release. It wasn't just sex; it hadn't ever been just about sex. He wanted her; he loved her.

"I had hoped you'd go to Hogsmeade with me sometime," he managed to say, feeling more and more stupid. He wasn't able to look at her, but from the tone of her voice he could imagine how she was looking at him.

"You never asked."

"Would you have?"

"Does it matter now?"

The two stared at each other and suddenly Pansy was aware of the way Marcus was watching her. Had he always looked at her that way?

Merlin's bloody left-

She stopped thinking and could only look at him hear heart suddenly lurching and then beginning to thump strangely within her. Did it matter now, seven years later? Seven long, miserable fucked up years within which she had done irreversible, horrid things.

Would it have matter if she had felt wanted? If she had resigned herself to what may have been offered and not set her heart on a man who would never love her? It would never matter now, she realized.

"I don't know," was his reply.

Pansy couldn't look at him for she feared that he knew her heart. Perhaps he had known all along-

"You could have said something," she whispered raggedly. "All those nights…all those moments-"

"You didn't want me in those moments, you wanted someone else. You weren't coming to me because you cared."

No, he was right in that. She had come to him because he had been a hot-blooded man who wanted her and she hadn't wanted to sleep in a cold, lonely bed. Sometimes she had forced her eyes closed and had allowed herself to believe the man she was with was Draco. She had forced herself to forget that it was Marcus who held her; he had been the only man with whom Pansy had forged anything beyond a simple one night need fuck. She had always told herself one day, it would be Draco. She had tried to save herself for the one man in the world that her heart melted for.

Not this man, though. Not Marcus Flint who sat opposite her at the rickety table. He was the man whom had always sat across from her, who had always been just one step behind. He was the man who knew her mind and knew how to manipulate, to fight to fuck just the way she wanted.

And I don't want him. Why is that?

Pansy felt a rush of tears coming at her but quelled the need quickly, snuffing it out brutally and letting out a strange, strangled laugh.

"Look at you," she hissed, hating herself more than she could remember. More even, than the day she had taken Lily Potter. The only thing that was clear in that smoky, crowded tavern was that Marcus wore a look of stark hopefulness and it was foreign to her on a face that she had, for so long, associated with the darkest most miserable moments of her life. And yet, now, he sat there hoping.

And I hate him for it. I hate him.

"How could you not see it?"

She let out a bout of contemptuous laughter to cover what she knew was growing guilt and the unnerve she felt.

"As if I would pay attention to you."

The look on his face was not satisfying; the sadistic need to cause someone else's pain so they wouldn't see hers did not work on Marcus.

"I know you hate yourself," he whispered. "I know a lot of things about you."

"You know nothing, you piece of filth! Don't you dare assume that you and I have-"

Marcus sat back, shaking his head.

"What I wouldn't have done for you! I love you, Pansy!"

She swallowed. Once, then twice, working hard to keep her cool.

"In this world, love doesn't exist. You're even bigger a fool if you believe it does."

"This from someone who loves a Malfoy?"

"I love an illusion," said she. "I love a world and a life that I never believed could happen and now it never will. He was always too good for me."

Suddenly, Pansy found herself unsteady on her feet, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. Her world spun in a slow circle just like the circle that Marcus had been dancing around in for years and years.

"Go away," she whispered but this time her words were not nasty but a plea. Marcus stood but would not move and instead, she stumbled forward towards Astoria and Fenrir.

"She never even loved him."

Draco was on her mind; Draco who loved another and who probably wouldn't have given a damn what his wife was doing and with whom! The thought of Fenrir made her burning flesh crawl, and knowing that she, too, had allowed the man to seduce her-

"You judge her?" Marcus said from behind and Pansy wished she could turn around and claw his eyes out. She wanted to destroy Marcus Flint; she wanted no memory, no stain on her mind where he had been.

Do I blame him?

The unreasonable thought would not allow her rest and her heart thumped unevenly as she glared at the tall, dark-haired man.

"Go away," she warned again, this time her words more firm. "I don't want to see you."

"He promises them whatever they want so they'll sleep with him, you know."

The glorious flush of her cheeks told Marcus that Pansy had already known that. Maybe that had been the reason why she had gone to bed with him…with both of them. The fact that Fenrir had been a friend of the Malfoy family was not lost on him.

"Is that what he told you?" Marcus asked curiously. "That he'd convince Malfoy-"

"You loathsome, repugnant, piece of shit!"

He lifted his wand against her sudden outburst, the hatred making her eyes glow from within with some sort of hellish fire.

"You'd mock my choices, would you? And here I thought you loved me?" she mocked, her wand hand trembling just slightly. And just like that the anger was gone, replaced just as quickly by a heavy heartbreak.

"She had everything she could want! What could that man offer her? How could she sully herself with such a creature-"

Marcus took a breath, his gaze unwavering.

"Me. She wants me."

His voice was sad.

"Just like you, Astoria wanted the one man who couldn't love her."

All color drained from her face and Pansy stared, as if turned to stone.

Fenrir's voice was like a strange music to Astoria's ears. Within the Tabernacle with it's noisy surroundings and the sound of yelling and laughter, the voice against her ear was muted and much like a sinful velvet.

"There he is. So close…isn't he, Poppet?"

Astoria closed her eyes, shaking just slightly. Yes, there he was. The reason she was there; her only reason, really.

Why am I here? When he clearly will never love me, why am I here?

Once again the question begged an answer and she did not have it. She could only stand there pressed against the filth that was Fenrir Greyback because he was her only chance now. The only chance she had to get closer to Marcus…to make him see.

She hadn't known Marcus in school. What she had known was the stories Daphne had told her of the oldest Flint boy, nearly eight years her senior, the son of a family friend who had turned out not to be such a good friend after all. She hadn't learned until she got older that Marcus' father had cheated her own out of too many galleons to count after an investment gone wrong. Even now Astoria wasn't sure if the elder Flint had cheated her father or not. Either way, after that incident, neither girl had been allowed to be around any of the Flints…and that meant their two sons as well. It hadn't mattered to Daphne; she had married well and quickly, too. Astoria had been determined to do the same although she hadn't relished the idea…at all. She had simply allowed family propriety and the right thing to pull her along while she half lived her life. Indifference, she realized, had been a mild term for what she had been feeling.

That was until she had run into the eldest Flint boy simply by chance. Now, in retrospect, Astoria realized that it had been at the Three Broomsticks shortly after Voldemort had taken hold of the Ministry just about three months before the announcement of her engagement to Draco Malfoy. She still remembered his voice, deep and resonating.

So you do exist, yeah? Though I can't quite remember why I thought you were a little girl…

There had been a smirk on those full lips and a glint of amusement in his eyes. And from the moment she had locked eyes with the brooding, blustery dark-haired man Astoria had come undone. She hadn't known then that no other man would ever make her feel what Marcus had so easily, without even wanting to.

He had been exactly the kind of man her mother had warned her about. He had been moody, unpredictable, rude and conniving. Yet something in his dark, flashing eyes had been magnetic and undeniable. That day, Astoria had given up on what she should have wanted and had fallen hard for a man whose name she hadn't even known! Only later had Daphne told her (and quite condescendingly, too) who he had been.

Astoria had grudgingly accepted Draco's family ring and she had married him in a glorious and glittering ceremony. No one had noticed (at least to her knowledge) that the bride and groom had both seemed much too somber amidst such revelry and gaiety. She hadn't known what Draco had been thinking but she knew what man she had been thinking about. And unfortunately it hadn't been her husband. She hadn't hated Draco, per se. She had tolerated him because it was the right thing to do. But he hadn't been the one in her dreams and dominating her waking hours. He wasn't the one she would rush home to, instead spending her evenings in Knockturn Alley at the new establishment called the Tabernacle where Marcus spent most of his free time. There she had celebrated with him when he had been promoted in the Ministry. There, she had laughed and drank with him, trying to behave like a lady but wanting nothing more than to get lost in the endless depths of his dark, mysterious eyes. There, she had pretended she wasn't the wife of a Malfoy but just a girl drinking in a bar allowing herself the fantasy that maybe he might want her secretly, just as she wanted him.

She had watched the Ministry destroy him just like it did everyone, sooner or later. She had watched him grow angry and bitter as his obsession with Pansy Parkinson grew and deepened. She had watched with sad irony because she had known that Pansy was in love with Draco just as she was in love with Marcus. They had been a fucked up, unholy trinity of unrequited affections and love stories that would never be told. She had watched as Fenrir had nurtured a sadistic side that Marcus hid from most people but danced on the edge of succumbing to.

And she had watched silently as he loved a woman who would never love him. So many nights she had been tempted to look him in those beautiful eyes and tell him that she wasn't the little girl that she had been and that nothing, not even a marriage and one dead son and all the money in England could make her heart stop wanting him. The heart wanted what it wanted. Someone had told her that many years before and only now was Astoria feeling the truth of such a statement.

Their eyes met across the smoky, brightly lit room and Astoria stopped breathing. She realized, not for the first time, how easily this man got to her and how hard it was to hide her feelings.

She watched as he whispered something against Pansy's ear and then the other woman went pale.

I hate her. I hate her for what she has and has never appreciated and I hate that she wasn't the one who had to marry Draco Malfoy. Bloody hell!

It was just then that Pansy yanked away from Marcus in a brutally graceful way and dashed out the wooden doors into the darkness, leaving him alone.

"Marcus," she managed and found it impossible that he could have heard her over the din surrounding them. Time slowed and Astoria felt like she couldn't move. He took a few steps forward, cocking his head.

"With Fenrir, I see?"

It was his words that brought her back to life and turning, Astoria found that the taller man had departed and was sitting nearby watching them with a hungry look.

"No, I-"

"I know how it is, Astoria. I've watched Pansy do the same thing over and over. You think that Fenrir is going to help you? Save yourself the misery…in fact, save both of us that misery."

She blinked feeling her heart in her throat. To say this was the moment of truth would have been the understatement of the century and she willed herself to speak though it was hard.

"Marcus, he's dead…D-draco is dead."

"So I've heard."

Both of their eyes moved to the door through which Pansy had disappeared. Her eyes flickered back to the hard lines of Marcus' face and she could see the tightening of his jaw and the same old pained expression. It was the same thing; he was hurting again because of Pansy's rejection. Even dead, it seemed Draco would get in between them. Astoria had a hard time deciding if she ought to let the bubble of triumph warm her heart. Perhaps now she would have that chance-

"You know I love you."

It was a desperate statement spoken in a voice atremble and she willed him to stop and look at her…reallylook at her this time. All the other noise in the room melted together, churned and then faded as Astoria held her breath. Never before had she uttered those words. Never before had she laid in on the line but she knew if not now, then never.

"It's always been you."

He stared.

"I've loved you from the moment we met at the Three Broomsticks. I was a silly girl, I know. Maybe I always will be but I can't help…the way I feel."

Astoria found herself recalling other moments with Marcus in the past where those eyes hid mysteries she desperately wanted to know. But not like this; never had she wanted to know what was on his mind more than in that moment. She nearly trembled in her desire.

"Please, tell me what you're thinking."

"Nothing's changed, Astoria."

"My husband is dead!" she exclaimed, tears filling her eyes. Her tone was incredulous – as if she was in shock over his mild rebuttal of her admission. "And my loving means nothing to you?"

He took a breath.

"Nothing would be too harsh a word. But you know it can't be."

"It could be if you wanted!"

A guarded, dark expression colored his features.

"Have you never considered the idea that I have? All those nights you came here to see me when you should have been with your husband? All the lies you've most likely told? The things you know about me that should have repulsed you and yet you still came?"

He shook his head and then she could see the misery glittering in the depths of his eyes.

"I'm a prisoner to a woman who…can't help feeling what she feels any more than I can! But at least I can rest at night knowing I wasn't blind."

It was impossible to move forward and he was clumsy; he couldn't get himself to do what he wanted, and that was to touch her for a moment.

"I knew you loved me. I could see it and I could never act on it. Don't you see?"

He was frustrated.

"It's always been her; it has to be her! We're alike, she just doesn't see it! You and I…"

He was saddened then and dropped his gaze.

"Would you believe me if I said I was sorry about Malfoy's death?"

Astoria was white with tension and felt a washing of weakness come across her. She stumbled forward, feeling dizzy.

"No," she hissed. "I wouldn't believe it. You've lost most of your sympathy years ago, haven't you? I told Draco over and over…that the Ministry destroys everything it touches and it's true because I SAW it! I saw them and what they did to YOU!"

There were tears burning down her face, feeling hotter than they should have for blood ran cold within her veins.

"They ruined you..."

"And no one cares but you."

He turned to go.

"I think you know this conversation is over."

But his voice trembled and Astoria rushed behind him, moving towards the door, willing him to wait, to understand, to love her. She was nothing in this world if she didn't have someone, if someone wasn't there when she got home. She wouldn't make it without Marcus.

"Wait!"

She watched him hurry out of the Tabernacle hearing the sound of Fenrir's laughter behind them just as the door shut. It was dark in the alleyway and the moonlight did nothing to help her see. Trembling, she pulled out her wand, her voice hoarse.

"Lumos."

Marcus watched as a thin, whitish light filled the space in the alley and in that light Astoria looked ghostly and frightening; she was nearly a skeleton with dark, glimmering eyes and long, dark hair. Like a vampire, he mused, or even a banshee. Those were bloody awful things. Somehow the declarations she had made only made him uncomfortable, because she had made a strange, long-forgotten emotion awaken in the pit of his belly.

Do I feel sorry for her? Am I guilty because I can't feel what she wants me to?

It was true. The woman at his side now had done nothing to harm him. She had only loved him and he felt badly for her. He felt horrible that he had made her come so undone.

"Astoria," he managed, reaching forward, hoping to calm her but she shook her head, rage causing her small body to tremble.

"Don't!"

"Fine," he spat back in the same, disgusted tone. Then he whirled on his heel and began to stalk away leaving Astoria standing there, bereft. Tears blinding her vision and she moved.

"You can't just leave me!"

Up ahead, at the junction of the next alleyway she could see Marcus stop because Pansy stood there and he said something to her but it was too dark to see beyond that. It hurt to watch him stand there wanting someone else, especially now, when she was all alone. But more so because it was Pansy. Pansy who didn't want him because she had-

Stumbling, Astoria followed them blinking away her blinding tears.

In the darkness, Hermione couldn't see him. Not even the flash of white-blond hair against the pillow. The snowfall outside was pristine and thick and the clouds had covered much of the moonlight.

But she could feel him warm and solid against her body and for that she was eternally grateful. She snuggled in against his body, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and the rumble of his voice as she spoke.

"Did you?"

Distracted, she had stopped listening to him.

"Did I what?"

Hermione could nearly see Draco's tolerant smirk.

"Did you have dreams? You know, before?"

She blinked in the darkness, her fingers playing along the tantalizing lines of his body as she began to think.

"What kind of question is that?"

The words faded in the room as she considered his question. Did he not know what life had been like? Of course he did, and of course for him it would have been vastly different. There hadn't been time for dreams, for a life plan, for any of that. There had only been fear and the idea that if they didn't keep moving something terrible would happen. Not even marrying Ron had changed anything for they hadn't had time to lay out a plan, to hope and fantasize about the future.

And here she was planning a future without him; she was in the arms of the last man she had ever believed would love her.

Oh, Ron!

It was strangely painful and nostalgic to think of him now, after everything that had happened.

Draco nudged her.

"I'm sorry I asked, then."

Hermione sat up, heavy, unruly curls spilling around her nude shoulders as she studied his silhouette intently.

"No, don't be. It's just that…no one has asked me that. Not since the Ministry fell."

She bit her lip.

"And no, I've never thought about it. Though I imagine what you have…everything you've…done since Hogwarts…do you count that as your future?"

There was a long silence before he sighed.

"I didn't choose most of what I have."

The room was silent and she could see that Draco was unable to look at her. His voice was cautious.

"A plan…hopes…a future…none of that exists unless someone wants it. The job was given to me. And Astoria was a trophy. Everything was for show, really."

He paused.

"Scorpius being an exception, of course."

Then he gazed up at her for a brief moment and Hermione could see his eyes flash for an instant.

"Life wasn't worth living until you walked back into mine. As shitty and fucked up as it was, Granger," he finished wryly, though there was sincerity in his words. "I'd rather live in fear with you at my side the rest of my life than ever go back to the nothing that was my life before you."

She smiled in the darkness, their hands linking instinctually.

"I'll hold you to that," she whispered, leaning in to capture his lips for a moment of oblivion.

"Well, it starts tomorrow," he reminded against her lips, pulling her closer so that they were side by side. He reveled in the steady beating of her heart. "We leave in less than a day and then it's a new life for us, Hermione."

She was close enough now that she could see the hope in Draco's eyes and unable to keep the smile from her face, Hermione allowed herself to believe that this time, things would go right for them. She had made her choice she knew, and there was no going back. Her future was with Draco, come high or hell water.

"I know," she replied nodding and setting her jaw. "And there's no one else in the whole world that I'd rather have by my side. I love you."

He nodded.

"And I, you."

He kissed her forehead and the warmth that filled her lasted for the moments after, when he got dressed and put on his winter cloak to meet with Pansy one last time and ensure that their plan was as full-proof as possible. Outside the night sky was beginning to lighten to a gray and Hermione stood to kiss Draco goodbye at the small door leading from the flat.

"I'll be back soon," he promised and she watched him disappear down the crumbling, cement steps. Then she gazed behind her, at the small wand that lay on the dresser and clutched it tightly in her fingers.

Without another thought, Hermione followed after him, because she would protecting him if need be. Perhaps trusting Pansy was the only thing they had to hope for but that didn't mean she wouldn't be cautious.

The sky began to lighten as Pansy slipped into one of the alleys near the Thames, the wind blowing something fierce and making her teeth chatter. It was always colder here, she mused. Perhaps it was the river. No one was about and the air was still, the streets empty and the sidewalks covered with a pristine, unadulterated blanket of white snow.

She hurried along, marring the beauty with her heavy footsteps, her heart pounding within her chest viciously. Her mind was feverish with delirium and it was that and not much else that was keeping her warm. Astoria…Astoria and Marcus? Astoria loving Marcus this whole time while she was married to a man so much better-

"Unbelievable," she whispered in shock, her breath pluming in the early morning air. But what did it matter? Draco wouldn't be hers even if Marcus had run away with Astoria.

And he won't, because he's in love with me.

What a cruel, fucked up place the world really was. Huddling down against the brutal wind, Pansy ran across the alley and turned the corner. Draco was waiting for her just as he had said he would, his black cloak billowing just slightly against the wind.

"I…"

There was too much on her mind and not enough time to actually speakand Pansy could only stare.

"Parkinson-"

She wondered if telling him about Astoria would help. Perhaps they could laugh about it and break the tension that had begun to build within her since Marcus' confession. It wouldn't matter if Draco knew or not; he had never loved his wife.

In the end, Pansy was too late and lost her chance to ever say a word. From behind them came a cruel, dry laugh.

"Well, well, well…someone's been lying to me."

Marcus looked paler in the morning light, his face ghostly against the black of his clothing and the black of the hair that haphazardly fell into his eyes. His bloodless lips turned up in a smile that never reached his eyes as he gazed on Draco.

"And here I thought you were dead, my friend. I fell to mourning, you know," he mocked softly taking another step towards the two that stood nearest the sidewalk. "I was so pained to know that we had lost such an asset to the cause."

Dark eyes glittered menacingly as Marcus advanced, stopping in the middle of the snow-covered street and lifting his wand. His tone mocked the truth.

"And here you are! Alive and well."

Draco carefully lifted up his wand aiming it at the other man.

"Take another step, Flint, and it'll be your last."

His words of warning died on the freezing air and were replaced by a cruel laughter from Flint.

"Or what?" he challenged. "What will you do? What more can you possibly take from me that you haven't already?"

"You're insane to even open your mouth, you sick, heartless piece of shit."

Somehow it was impossible to speak of the child that Marcus Flint had taken from him and Hermione even though he was desperate to say the words. Marcus' cruel laughter interrupted Draco's broken thoughts.

"If anyone is insane, Malfoy, it's you. Thinking you can fool the Ministry? Running off with your second whore, are you?" he asked, his eyes glittering as he glared at Pansy.

She had taken a step between the two men without thinking, her first instinct to protect what she had always treasured the most. It was not lost on Marcus; nothing she did or said ever had been.

"It's pathetic, Pansy. Here you are, still pining after some bastard who'd rather fuck a Mudblood in the streets than be with you!"

He was laughing and the wand wavered in his hand which was trembling with rage and pain. She lifted her chin, tears glimmering in her eyes.

"Nothing you say and no names you call me will change the fact that I will never love you," she hissed with menace. "You call me stupid and pathetic but you need only look at yourself in the mirror!"

The tears fell from her eyes, burning hot against icy skin.

"Shut up!"

"And you think-

"SHUT UP!" he hollered crossing the street and erasing the distance between them. His hand came up, roughly shoving Pansy out of the way because he would never, ever hurt her. Not Pansy, not the reason that he-

"Marcus!"

The breathless word caused them all to halt and Marcus turned, his head dizzy with anger and pain. Astoria stood on the other side of the street, her eyes wide and tears streaming down her face.

"Why did you follow me?" he exclaimed incredulously. "Why are you here? We finished this conversation didn't we?"

He shook his head faltering for the second that Draco needed to launch himself forward, at Flint, raising his wand high.

"Stupefy!"

The words fell from Draco's lips and with them the whole world seemed to fall into a horrific, slow motion. Draco saw the red light shoot out of his wand and towards Flint but at the same time he saw Astoria fling herself forward, pushing Flint out of the way and into Pansy who took the curse head-on.

Her small body was flung backwards and she was tossed into the air and fell to the icy ground with a heap. Was she dead? Had she hit her head on the way down? Moving quickly, Draco dropped to the ground on his knees just as he saw something that made his heart stop.

It happened too quickly.

"You bitch!" screamed Flint who launched himself at Astoria just as the raven-haired witch tried to dodge the clumsy attack. Holding Pansy's limp hand in his own, Draco stumbled to his feet to aid his wife.

It was too late. Before Draco could counterattack, the small street was filled with a flashing green light and Astoria screamed. It was over in two seconds and she lay dead on the ground whilst Marcus stood over her, trembling with rage and uncertainty.

"What did you do?" Draco managed, his eyes wide.

His wife was dead, lifeless on the frozen ground and he crawled across the space between them to touch her one last time.

"I didn't-"

Draco didn't give Marcus time to think or act, simply leaping up like a cat and grabbing him around the collar. Both men fell to the ground and Draco clung to Flint as if his life depended on it. After all, there was no telling what an insane man, especially one as sadistic as Marcus Flint, was capable of.

"Geroff me!" he hollered just as Draco delivered a swift kick to his groin, making the dark-haired man scream in pain. He rolled across the ground and then Draco began shooting curses at him, the alley filling with light over and over again. Marcus was stupid but he wasn't weak in a duel and he dodged Draco's unplanned attacks, fumbling forward on the pavement to get his bearings.

"Expelliarmus!" he screamed, flinging the attack over his shoulder and causing Draco to stumble and lose his wand. It gave Flint the moment he needed to leap back to his feet and aim more precisely.

He advanced like an animal, blood marring his bone-white face.

"They're planning a funeral for you, mate. Best not disappoint them," he spat, coughing up blood and raising his wand.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

But it wasn't Marcus' voice that filled the morning air. Instead, the lumbering man fell dead on the spot, dying with his eyes wide open. Draco's heart stopped beating and when it started he had never thought it could beat with such fury and speed.

Whirling around he stumbled and lost his footing falling into a heap on the ground.

Hermione stood in the middle of the street holding the wand that he had lost. Tears streamed down her face and she trembled but there was an unmistakable look of determination on her features.

"He killed our baby," she whispered before breaking down completely.

Behind them, Marcus was dead and no longer a threat. But now, Draco knew, the Ministry would be tracking who had used the Unforgiveable. Unfortunately, they were much more of a threat than Marcus ever had been.

And she had used his wand. Thank Merlin…they would be after him.