A/N: Thank you to anyone and everyone who's still reading. Your reviews keep me writing in amongst the chaos that is life.
Disclaimer: I don't claim to own anything other than the words I've thought of.
They lay in silence, taking what comfort they could from feeling something warm and alive.
Hermione's head continued to throb as she resisted the urge to fall asleep. She turned over memories of Harry, Ron, Ginny – she thought about the first day at Hogwarts, remembered how the food in the Great Hall smelt, how The Burrow always felt like home. She strained, thinking of the last conversation she'd had with them. They had spent so long in their tent just waiting, whispering, arguing about horcruxes, not realising those were the last moments.
Draco's back protested from lying down on damp, hard stone, but he remained rigid. He had never done this with someone, let alone her. It paralysed him with a kind of unfamiliar awkwardness. If the Slytherins could see him now.
"Are you awake?" He croaked, irritated at how pitiful his voice sounded.
"Yeah."
"Ask me a question then Granger."
She stirred, looking up at him. Their faces were inches away – he had long eyelashes, she realised.
"Can I ask more questions about you?"
"Is that your question?" He felt, rather than saw her roll her eyes. "It's not like I can escape Granger, go ahead."
"Who are you close to?"
"My mother. Although, we haven't spoken for a while."
"Friends?"
"Blaise…Theo, Crabbe and Goyle, but only when it suits them, Pansy on a good day and those are rare."
She nodded against his chest.
"Were you and Pansy ever together?"
"Quite the inquisitor." He grumbled. "We…had a mutual arrangement of sorts."
"So, you used one another." Hermione frowned, unsure of why this disappointed her.
"What about you and Weasley then?"
Hermione shifted her weight off him, pinning herself up. "Was it really that obvious?"
"Are you kidding? Merlin Granger, the whole school knew. It was sickening, really."
"Well, nothing ever happened. I thought that maybe it would, but we were so focused on Harry." She rambled. "We're better off as friends."
"Good."
She whipped her head around at him.
"You'd get bored."
"Ron is not boring Malfoy, he's just-"
"Safe."
Hermione sighed, knowing he was right. This cell was fast becoming their confessional.
"Potter?"
"God no." She laughed. "He's like my brother." Her smile fell as she remembered they were far away.
Draco frowned, as if he were puzzling over something and slowly understanding dawned on him.
"So, you've never…"
"What?"
"Have you ever kissed someone?"
"Yes." She crossed her arms. "Viktor Krum, not that it's any of your business."
"I'm impressed."
"But no, I haven't done that if that's what you're thinking." She tucked a strand away from her eyes, staring at the ceiling.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of."
"No, I suppose not." She bit her lip, feeling the heat flush on her face. She was grateful for the dark.
"So, am I to believe that nothing sordid ever happened in this trio of yours? How disappointing."
"Sorry Malfoy, we were a little busy trying to destroy a megalomaniac."
"Right." He snorted and they lapsed into a silence, thinking about the unthinkable.
"We should talk about it." Hermione inched closer.
Draco groaned, "which part? The part where they'll make me murder you? Or the part when he drains us of our magic to become some fucked up experiment?"
"I-I want you to be the one that does it."
"What do you mean?"
"Just - if it comes down to you or them, I want you to do it before they bind us in the spell." She shuddered. "Promise me you won't hesitate."
"I'm not in the habit of making promises Granger."
"Please." She propped herself up against the wall, one hand touching her head wound.
Draco stared at her – this Granger felt like a figment of his imagination and he wondered whether he could kill her. Her eyes pleaded with him and for some twisted reason, he wanted to do this for her, if this was what she wanted.
"Fine, I'll do it."
He sat back on his heels and ran his hands through his hair again. She closed her eyes, relieved, maybe, or resigned, he wasn't sure.
Draco heard something.
Hermione's eyes found his – he grabbed her, pulling her up and placing her behind him. His eyes darted around the cell, forgetting which wall the entrance had materialised from. She turned so they were back-to-back, primed for a fight. Stupid Gryffindor, he thought.
They heard voices next, echoing down the long corridor.
"Remember what you promised me." Hermione breathed behind him.
"Fuck that Granger, I've changed my mind. Nobody is dying today."
The wall started to crumble, dust falling away as the bricks moved to reveal four Death Eaters in their robes and masks. Hermione thought it perversely reminded her of the entrance to Diagon Alley. Dolohov, Yaxley, and maybe Lestrange stood before them, noted Draco. One from the back stepped forwards to reveal their trademark long, silvery hair. Hermione tensed behind him.
"Separate them." Lucius drawled.
"You're an awful father, you know that." Draco spat as Yaxley and Lestrange bound his body, levitating him forwards.
Dolohov didn't bother using magic to restrain Hermione, taking pleasure in pinning her arms behind her back.
"Don't touch her." Draco snarled.
Lucius only rolled his eyes, flicking his wand so both Hermione and Draco were muzzled. Draco strained to look at Hermione as he was pulled from the cell – he caught a glimpse of her before it all went black.
Hermione lost sight of Draco as Lucius blocked her view, his trademark cane making awful clacks on the dungeon floor. Dolohov's rank breath tickled the back of her neck. She bade her time, watching their ascent into the hall – it was beautiful and terrible – a marble expanse with a gothic vaulted ceiling to rival Hogwarts. The moon mocked them through the floor length windows as they passed, and Hermione took some comfort in thinking that Lucius had been roused from his sleep.
She was led up a grand staircase which had two rooms at both ends of a long corridor – she wanted to believe Draco was there too.
Pushed inside, she stepped into what seemed like a guest bedroom. On the bed was a pile of black robes. She suddenly felt sick.
"Clean the filth off yourself and get dressed." Lucius sneered, giving her a wide birth.
"Fuck off." Hermione grumbled.
Lucius slammed her against the wall with a slight twitch of his wrist. "You will, Mudblood, or Dolohov here will help you."
Dolohov grinned maniacally.
Hermione nodded subtly and she was released, her body crumpling to the floor.
"Oh, and don't try to escape or kill yourself. The house-elves will stop you." Lucius gathered his cloak, sniffing to see it had been contaminated by her presence and proceeded to drag Dolohov out of the room.
"How could you do this to your own son!" She yelled.
The door slammed and Hermione burst into tears.
Draco pulled the robes over his head, grateful to be rid of his other clothes, but disturbed to find he looked like he was going to his own funeral, which he supposed he was. He paced around the room – his bedroom, or what was left of it – ignoring the beady eyed house-elf whose name he didn't know. The windows repelled him, the door burnt his palm and every conceivably sharp object seemed to melt in his grip. He thought about Granger – hoped she was ok, imagined she was mirroring his movements, trying to work a way out. He was struck with the realisation that he was invested in her – he wanted her to win.
Hermione pulled one of the drawers from a chest by the bed and threw it at the window. It bounced back, falling to the floor with a terrible clatter.
"The Mudblood must prepare for the ceremony." The house-elf motioned mechanically to the bathroom where a bath laden with bubbles taunted her.
"This Mudblood isn't going to do anything of the sort." She replied hotly.
Hermione's body lurched as the elf decided otherwise, pulling her body against her will into the tub. The elf began roughly ripping wet clothes off her and when she protested, they dunked her under. She decided not to fight, unwillingly comforted by the blistering hot water. The house-elf scrubbed until her skin was raw. Her makeshift bandage was discarded, and her wound healed. She supposed Voldermort wanted them to look clean for his obscene ritual.
"What is your name?" She asked, trying a different tact.
"I will not talk to the Mudblood."
"Of course, you won't." Hermione winced as the elf continued to scrub her back. "But you should resist – I can help you – let me help you."
The house-elf stilled for a moment and Hermione was sure she saw a flicker of recognition before it just as easily disappeared.
Hermione let the elf help her into her robes, feeling weaker than she wanted to admit. She let them sit her down at a dressing table and brush through the tangles in her hair. The motion reminded her of her mum, who used to mutter obscenities as she tried to make sense of the bird's nest.
"Can you tell me when the ceremony will begin?"
The elf did not reply. Her face was set with a blank expression.
"How long have you been working here?"
Still, the elf refused to speak. Hermione watched their wiry arms draw the brush through her hair stroke after stroke. She let her mind wander to Malfoy – she felt oddly connected to him at this point – as if he knew her in a way that even Harry and Ron didn't. She wondered if she would tell her friends about it if she got out, but it almost felt too private. Did it matter to him? Probably not, she thought, and physically shook the thoughts from her mind.
She refocused on the elf beside her, "do you know Dobby? You see, he's a friend of mine and he would want to know what was happening."
The elf's eyes flashed in her direction.
"You do know Dobby, but you can't say." Hermione waited for a sign from her to continue and she was sure the elf's eyes started to water. "You have to warn him and tell him to get Harry, please, I know it's dangerous, but you are not safe here, they will kill you." She started to shake with adrenaline. "We'll get you out too, you and your friends here." Hermione implored, attempting to catch her eyes.
The door to the room swung open with force where Lucius stood once more. "Is the thing ready?" He hissed.
The elf nodded and disapparated, leaving her alone with him. He reminded her of Malfoy in lots of ways – they shared the same insistent posture and bone structure, but Lucius' mouth and eyes were crueller.
"Mr Malfoy, please, he's your son."
"Silence." He spat, approaching her quickly. She flinched, waiting for the blow. He simply stood before her, looking down at her with utter contempt.
"You can't let them kill him." She whispered.
His eyes flicked towards her for a moment, before grabbing her by the shoulders and roughly pushing her from the room. Her head darted around in panic, looking for Malfoy.
"I'll walk." His voice rang out behind her.
Lucius stopped as he heard it too – she whipped her head around to see him. He was magnificent – taller somehow, walking with as much confidence as he always had. He had a new bruise on his face, which made her bubble with fresh fury. He nodded once in her direction and she smiled.
"Father, lovely to see you again." Malfoy said lazily, as if he was bored of the whole ordeal.
Lucius turned away from him and marched Hermione down the stairs. The great hall was filled with a mass of robed bodies who started to leer at them as they passed through. Outside the sun rose with a violent pink.
Draco felt his stomach drop as the Death Eaters parted to reveal Voldermort on his makeshift throne, Nagini draped across his lap. He grinned awfully, revealing a set of yellowing teeth, leaning forward to look closely at them. Draco moved to stand beside Hermione in a protective gesture, which Voldermort noted curiously.
The Dark Lord stood, allowing Nagini to slither down him and circle them.
"Welcome." His voice echoed terribly, as if it were inside your head. "The pureblood heir," he glared at Draco, suppressing a grin, "and the infamous Mudblood – come here to die."
The Death Eaters rumbled and Voldermort stilled them with a slight raise of his hand. He swept closer, and with a jerk of his wand pushed the audience back to reveal a circle around Hermione and Draco. A second later the border ignited with Fiendfyre.
"Nobody interferes." Voldermort ordered. He ripped Hermione and Draco apart, fixing them to opposite ends.
Hermione looked around frantically, as if she was searching for something, or someone. Draco stared at her, remembering what she'd asked of him, except he couldn't move. He had no wand and even if he did, he couldn't do it.
Voldermort laughed maniacally, inside both of their minds, taking peverse pleasure in their shared hopelessness. "Ligareinmorte!" he stabbed the air before them, twisting his knarled wand as if it were a dagger.
Hermione locked eyes with Draco, feeling the swell of magic. Their bodies were joined by a beam of searing light and both were bent over in pain. Draco felt as if his nerves were on fire, he could hear his blood rush and was sure he started to feel his body fill with new magic, her magic.
"No." He tried to resist, focusing on repelling her. Voldermort, whose eyes were closed in pleasure, snapped to him, and sneered.
"What are you doing boy?" He hissed, twisting his wand again, his hand shaking with the force.
Hermione refused to look away from him, she was in too much pain to speak, but he knew that determined expression. Draco smiled and continued to block Hermione, instead allowing some of his magic to flow to her. She realised what he was doing and tried to shake her head, but he didn't listen.
In the background, some of the Death Eaters began to break ranks, plumes of inky smoke leaving their bodies behind. The walls vibrated, glass smashing.
"Hermione!" Harry's voice rang out, his body appearing through the flames, flanked by members of the Order.
Voldermort roared, snapping his wand back and disappearing.
Hermione and Draco sank to the floor. Spells flew overhead as a battle broke out – streams of purple and green. Draco crawled to Hermione, grabbing a wand from his father and Rodolphus who lay frozen.
"Granger, catch!" He slid a wand across the floor to her.
She grabbed it and leapt into action, "Stupefy! Protego!" she shot at two Death Eaters. "Harry, look out!"
Harry turned quickly, disarming Dolohov. "The wards are down. We need to get out, now!" He grabbed her.
"Wait! Harry, I'm not leaving without him." Hermione yelled above the noise.
Harry paused, confused, "are you sure?"
"Trust me." She urged. "You go, I'll get Malfoy."
"There's no way I'm leaving you here!" Harry shouted, dodging another spell.
"We don't have time. Get the others out of here. Go!"
Harry growled, running into the crowd again.
"Malfoy!"
"Right here Granger." He grabbed her hand, so they were back-to-back again.
"You're not going to like this, but we can fight later." Hermione turned around so they were facing one another, grabbed him with both hands and thought of Grimauld Place.
They landed with a thud on the lacquered floor.