"So, this is it?" Draco asked, holding the small vial of Hermione's blood and her cure for vampirism.

Hermione nodded, smiling happily as she put away items from her workbench into various bags and boxes. She was still wrapped in her winter coat, the tip of her nose a bright red from standing in the cold with him. "That's it. Full strength. After you drink it, you'll feel lethargic, and will likely sleep for a day or two. But by the time you wake and come to your senses, you'll be human."

Speechless. It wasn't that he didn't think she couldn't do it, but he was at a loss for words with how amazed he was. Thanking her wouldn't be enough. There couldn't ever be words to describe what he felt. There was, however, a gnawing feeling of fear that struck his core.

It was unfathomable that he would no longer have the urge to drink blood. Worse yet, he feared the guilt that would surely consume him from the lives he had taken to sustain himself. Though he hated everything he was as a vampire, he wasn't sure if he would be content with what he would be as a human.

Would Hermione still feel as soft and warm as she did now? Would she still love him if he was no longer a monster and was instead a broken man? Would anything be the same?

"Draco, are you okay?" she asked softly, taking his hands in hers, holding the vial between their palms. She was so fucking warm it drove him to near insanity. He thought the only appropriate response would be to fall to his knees before her, to worship her as one would a god. To take her to bed and kiss her until she fell asleep and whisper how much she meant to him. But he stood, frozen in the overwhelmingness of everything at hand.

He thought about all the things he could offer to repay her for all that she has done for him and to atone for the wrong he has done to her. Every galleon he had in Gringotts wouldn't be enough, and she wouldn't accept it either. The only thing he could give her that he knew she would want is honesty.

"I think I'm scared," he replied after a long moment of silence, still staring at where their hands touched, not wanting to look into her big brown eyes.

"It's okay to be scared," she spoke, her voice soothing and ethereal, echoing in his head constantly. "Do you want to see what it will be like for a few moments?"

His puzzled face finally looked toward her, and he thought he would break seeing the kindness in her gaze. How could someone look upon him, a monster, with such kindness and love? How could someone like her of all people offer him salvation when he had so much blood on his hands?

She quickly rushed to a small box on the floor, rummaging around for a few seconds before pulling another clear vial from it and returning to his side. "If you drink this, it'll mask the symptoms of your blood curse for a few hours. Maybe even less since it's formulated for Astoria's weight. But you can take it, if you want to try it out for a little. And if you hate it, then you don't have to turn back, Draco."

"That isn't fair to you now, is it?" he sighed, trading the vials they had so he was now holding the temporary fix to the ailment he had been suffering from for so long.

"This isn't about me. This is for you."

He uncorked the clear liquid, smelling the acrid scent of billywig guts. "You're wrong, Granger. Everything I do now is for you."

In a quick gulp, he swallowed his fear along with the contents of the vial. It was horribly bitter, and he couldn't imagine poor Astoria having to stomach this. And as it began to settle in his stomach, he sat down on the pile of pillows in the middle of the tent after Hermione instructed him to relax. She knelt down in front of him, checking his heart rate and pupils.

After sitting around for half an hour, he nearly lost hope on the antidote having any effect. But his heart skipped a beat when Hermione smiled brightly, rushing to grab a small mirror and held it in front of him.

"Look at your eyes, Draco."

There was a sky blue swirl amidst the silver. And just then, Draco realized that he hadn't thought about his hunger and couldn't hear Hermione's heartbeat loudly ringing in his ear. Setting the mirror down, he couldn't help but to feel complete joy to be in her presence without the dark desires that usually fueled him.

Draco giggled, his laughter causing tears to fall down his cheeks as he looked at her without the urge to tear into her flesh. Hermione threw her arms around him, tackling him back into the pile of blankets as she laughed in unison. She felt heavy, not in a way that burdened him, but was a reminder that his strength was fleeting. Feeling her body weight was heavenly, a comfort he thought he could only find if he were no longer of this earth.

She was still so warm.

"You can hold me tighter, Draco. You won't hurt me," she whispered.

And he did, he held onto her tighter than he had ever had. There was no fear of breaking her ribs or leaving bruises on her body. Over and over, he kissed her lips, tasting how sweet she was, not for a second thinking of biting into her. He didn't know how much longer this would last, but he wanted to savor every second.

They laid face to face, and Hermione seemed almost transfixed by his eyes. She brushed her fingertips lightly over his lips, feeling as soft as she always had felt.

"Do you still want me even though you don't crave for my blood?" she asked.

"You are the only thing I want."

As she fell asleep in his arms, he felt his heart slow again. She became swelteringly hot, and he loosened his grip on her, realizing that he was morphing back into the monster he was.

—

There was nothing that could have ever prepared Hermione for the sight before her. It still seemed so unreal that Draco Malfoy, the subject of many of her nightmares, was the first thing she saw when she woke. She used to dream that he was tearing into her flesh, ripping her and everyone she loved apart limb by limb. Now, she couldn't picture a life without him.

His soft snores hummed against her chest, nearly lulling her back to sleep. She didn't dare move, not wanting to wake him from the already little rest he got, wanting to enjoy every moment of him resting. She couldn't help but wonder what he dreamt about, if he even dreamt at all, hoping it was of sweet memories and not the horrific events that have unfolded throughout his life.

With each breath out he took, she smelt the subtle hints of spearmint. It offered her a sense of comfort that she had been craving for so long. Her mind raced with ways of attempting to mend her parents' memories after the war, desperately wishing to introduce them to her new family, knowing they'd adore each and every one of them.

And though she knew it wouldn't replace the void Draco felt losing his own parents, she thought it could offer some solace as he healed. More than anything, Hermione wanted to give him a home. Somewhere that didn't harbor the bad memories that Malfoy manor held. One that felt warm and would let in every ounce of sunlight.

Draco's snores began to subside, and his eyelids twitched as he was stirring awake. Hermione traced her finger along the bridge of his nose and he smiled.

"Hey baby," he whispered sleepily, pulling her close to his cold, bare chest. She wished she could have laid in the pile of blankets on the floor for forever, but there was a war to end.

"We should get up soon," Hermione grumbled as he peppered kisses on her cheek. Draco sat up, still kissing her along her body, making her blush. Effortlessly, he lifted her from their nest of pillows, cradling her in his arms out of the tent and into the shared bathroom. He sat her on the counter and started the shower. As steam began to fill the small space, he slowly undressed her, peeling off her sleepwear layer by layer.

"How are you so pretty, Granger?" he asked after she was fully naked, still on the counter. Draco stepped back, taking a good look. "My pretty baby."

He undressed himself in the same slow manner, and she leaned back on her hands so she could take in the whole view. It was like artwork to her, his entire being. Something so beautiful and forbidden to touch, and yet she did anyway. It was her dangerous game to play.

His pale cock was fully erect, pressing against his abdomen, twitching as he looked hungrily at her. He got onto his knees, pulling her legs open to kiss her inner thighs. Cold lips found her most sensitive part, sucking softly, sputtering sweet nothings against her.

As her eyes rolled back and she laced her fingers through his hair, a loud knock came at the door.

"DAPH! YOU'VE BEEN IN THERE ALL MORNING. I need to wash my hair and you're hogging the hot water!" Astoria yelled.

Draco didn't stop, slipping a finger inside of her, making Hermione gasp. "Sorry… Tori. Just… just a minute," she choked out.

"Oh, sorry Hermione!" Astoria called back sweetly. "I thought Daph was in there. Are you okay? You sound out of breath. Should I grab Draco?"

"No! I'm fine," she assured while Draco smirked at her. The curling of his cold fingers deep inside made her breath hitch even more.

"Oh… okay! Well, let me know if you need me," her voice almost sadly rang. There was a brief pause before she spoke again. "You know, Hermione. If you want to stay with me today, instead of going with Teddy and Draco, I'd really like that. If I can be completely honest, I don't want you to go to the Ministry at all."

Hermione froze, but Draco continued to finger her while staring into her eyes, watching her reactions. She kept a tight grip onto his hair, but turned her attention to the door.

Astoria spoke again, her voice still heartbreakingly sad. "I know you're so brave and really, really tough and that you'll be okay out there. But, you don't have to go. You've done enough already. I think I need you here, for my sake. Draco's too I think."

Draco stood up, his fingers still hooked inside, pressing his lips against Hermione's ear. "You hear that?" he whispered. "She wants you to stay here."

"Tori," Hermione responded. "Can we talk… when I'm out of the shower?"

"Yes, of course," Astoria chimed, and they heard her footsteps walk away.

Draco's other hand went to her throat, pressing her back against the mirror. His fingers pushed gently into her pulse point. "Don't make me beg, Granger."

Hermione held his wrist, feeling his fingers twitch inside her hot cunt and around her throat. "Begging makes you look pathetic. I quite like that, actually."

Without a question, his lips began to trail her face, from her forehead to the tip of her nose. His thumb swirled around her clit, wetting it with her own arousal, making Hermione purr. He touched his forehead to hers, holding there.

"Baby, please stay here. I'll do anything you want," he mumbled. "I'll buy you anything you wish. Take you anywhere you want to go. Fuck you in every position you desire. But please, don't go."

"Why?" she breathed out.

"I want you to be safe," he replied, his cold cock throbbed against her thigh. "I need you to be safe."

"I'm safe with you," she moaned, riling him to the point where he squeezed down harder on her neck, making her breathless as she breathed him in. "Isn't that right?"

"I would never let harm come your way," he grunted after she wrapped her hand around his throbbing length, tugging on it at the same pace he slipped his fingers in and out of her.

"I'll be with you, Draco," she gasped, guiding his cock towards her opening.

"Fuck, you make things so hard for me."

The head of his cock replaced where his fingers once were, making her ache for more. He lifted her up, bringing her to the shower and letting the hot water fall onto them while he fucked her senseless.

"Please… please baby… please," he muttered in between each thrust. Hermione didn't respond, she simply reveled in the desperation of his eyes and movements, doing everything he possibly could to please her in hopes she would change her mind.

But she wouldn't be swayed. There wasn't a damn thing anyone could do to convince her not to see it through. And she had to be there to make sure Draco made it out with her unscathed and away from the grasp of the Order. Every action she took was calculated, and she wished everyone would see that she wasn't going just for her pride.

"You never… fucking… listen," he grunted as he nipped at her ear. Her back was against the hot tiles of the shower wall, feeling every inch of him ravage her body in every way she wanted. His arms hooked under her knees, his fingers pressed into her sides, and he slowly pumped his full length into her. Every stroke was deliberate, like he was attempting to prolong each second he was inside her.

"Draco," she muttered over and over in his ear.

"Merlin, your voice. Your pretty fucking voice makes me want to cum," he groaned, nestling deep inside.

"Cum for me," she moaned, feeling herself reaching the point of pure bliss.

"No, not yet," he grunted, holding her still under the water that was becoming cooler. "You always make me give in to you."

"But you call out to Merlin, never to me," she said, looking at his hardened face. It was as if he were trying to focus everything on not finishing, pressing his fingers into her hips, biting his lip, furrowing his brow.

He growled deeply, vibrating against her body. "You wish for me to cry out to you? To call your name when I plant my seed deep inside your hot cunt?"

Hermione nearly choked on her desire, wanting nothing more than to hear him say her name while he emptied himself. For him to moan it loudly and desperately as he filled her.

"Yes," she cried out. "Say my name. Say it, Draco."

Slowly, he began to fuck her again, his arms still under her knees, her arms around his neck. It was agonizingly slow, but she didn't want to rush him. By the expression on his face, she could tell that he was enjoying every second, not wanting to give in just yet so he could prolong their pleasure. He slid her all the way off of his cock, the head just on the outside of her opening.

"My pretty slut."

In a quick motion, he slammed her down, connecting their bodies fully. They were so close, she could feel every twitch of his muscles and every breath from his lips. A deep groan escaped his chest when he slid her away once more.

"My fucking whore," he breathed out before pulling their bodies close again, his forehead pressed against hers, the water dripping off his pale skin.

The water was now cold, causing Hermione to shiver with freezing delight. There wasn't any other sensation she would have asked for. To be pressed against him, being consumed by his lips, eyes, and body.

"My baby," he muttered, his movements becoming more desperate and frantic, no longer elegantly timed. It was raw and real, and he was with her.

Draco looked into her eyes, his forehead pressed against hers. Each thrust was unrelenting, she could feel the bruises forming on her thighs.

"My everything," he said clearly, making sure she heard it.

As cold as his skin and the water was, she felt a warmth deep inside of her. She didn't want him to stop, but could feel him coming to a climax.

"Hermione…" he whispered so softly, as if he were nervous to say it to her. It was so quiet, she nearly missed it. And as Hermione moaned out to him, he pumped his cock frantically to find release, squeezing her hips.

"HER."

Thrust.

"MION."

Another deep thrust.

"EE."

And with the last stroke, he nestled so deep in her she thought she might break. His fingernails dug deep into her flesh as he planted every drop of his cum inside her aching cunt.

"Hermione…." he whispered again and again breathlessly, his cock still rock hard and slick with their pleasure, gliding in and out, desperate to make her cum too. In just a few more seconds, she was mewling his name back, their lips crashing as they called out to each other.

When she fell against him, tired and aching, he set her down gently, warming the water back up with a few spells. Her cheek rested against his chest and he began massaging soap into her hair and skin gently, barely applying any pressure, as if to repent for the sin of ravaging her body. After they were both clean, Draco wrapped her in a towel, drying her skin, standing at an arm's length to ensure she wouldn't be cold any longer.

—

Draco secured her boots onto her feet, tying the knot twice over to avoid them from becoming undone. When he finished, he kissed her knee and met her gaze. Hermione looked down at him, his demeanor was blank and empty. It pained her when he Occluded himself so fully, masking himself away, not wanting to think about sending her into war.

She almost wished he would act out and show how he truly felt. He was always hiding away from her in fear of pushing her away, but she loved seeing him act out in such a raw manner. At least when he yelled, she could try to help ease his mind.

"Are you sure you want to go?" he asked, standing up and taking her hand. She stood with him and adjusted his shirt, making the already perfectly pressed material a smidge straighter.

"Yes, of course," she said confidently.

"Merlin, you're so stubborn," he mumbled, kissing her cheek.

"Insufferable, even?" she smiled.

"To the point it drives me to insanity," he sighed defeatedly. He tilted her chin up with just a finger, and she looked into his storm colored eyes. "But I wouldn't want it any other way."

They exited the tent, Hermione's hair was still damp from the shower as she combed her fingers through the curls. She saw Teddy and Daphne sitting on the couch, speaking softly to one another. Theodore had his arm wrapped around the worried witch, his lips pressed against her ear, attempting to calm her from her stress. Astoria paced the living room, but turned her attention to herself and Draco when they appeared.

"I don't know why I thought you all would be in full suits of armor. What a silly notion," she mumbled, crossing her arms and holding herself. "But it looks like you're dressed to go off to war, so I am assuming you've made up your mind, Hermione."

Hermione nodded, walking slowly to her, pulling her into an embrace. "I'll be back soon."

"Pinky promise?" Astoria asked, her voice cracking as she held out her hand with her pinky out stretched.

Hermione latched her pinky to her's. "Pinky promise."

"I'm going to miss you," she said, her voice cracking. Astoria pulled away, looking at Draco intently, drying her tears. "And you better keep her safe, Draco."

"Of course, Tori," he said as she held onto him, her face buried into his chest and she began to sob. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and directed her to meet his gaze. "Hey, it's going to be okay. Nott and Granger are the toughest people I know. We're going to be fine. You've never been this worried before, what's the matter?"

She sniffled, pouting her lip. "I just want to make sure you're coming back to see me, before you two run off or whatever you're planning on doing."

"Of course," he said, but that was only half true. Hermione didn't know exactly when they needed to go, only that once the Order had seized the Ministry, they were on limited time. "And we will come see you whenever we can, isn't that right?"

Hermione nodded and smiled. They would try their best to see the Greengrasses when they could, she would miss them as much as Draco would. "Most definitely. Any chance we get."

Theodore stood up after giving Daphne a quick kiss. "Don't worry, Tori, I'll make them. We should probably get going here soon, don't want to keep Potter and company waiting."

They said their goodbyes, leaving the flat and making their way to the street. Just outside the building's door, she saw Pansy leaning back against the brick wall in a purple winter jacket, smoking a thin cigarette. Hermione smiled at her, and she nodded back in a friendly manner.

"Draco, can I have a word?" she asked. Hermione and Theodore walked further down the street to give them privacy, but Hermione watched them out of the corner of her eye, making sure that Draco wouldn't upset her in any way.

Theodore's boot nudged Hermione's, the soft sounds of the mechanical ticks from his leg reminding her of what he's lost. "Nervous?"

She shrugged. "It has been a while since I've been in a real fight. I was hoping that he will surrender easily, given the state he's in."

"Sorry, Hermione. I don't think Voldy would ever admit defeat, even if we transmogged him into the roach he is. Plus all of his zealots, they're crazed, I fear."

"I'm not scared of Auntie Bellatrix and Greggory Goyle, if that's who you're referring to," she tried to laugh.

"Oh, I know you're not scared of that old hag. Bested her already once."

Hermione watched as Pansy hugged Draco. He awkwardly stood, giving her a pat on the back. The way she held onto him was a tell-tale sign that she was seeking comfort, and Hermione hoped Draco would set aside his ill feelings to hold her back. To show compassion to someone who needed a glimmer of hope. But he pulled away, as he likely always did, cursing her to be without him.

They made their way to Grimmauld Place, entering to find it full of Order members. Hermione happily greeted several dozen people she knew but had seen in ages. Draco and Theodore kept their heads down, only speaking to a few they had known.

Harry and Kingsley stood at the banister of the stairs, announcing several reminders to the Order members. They listened carefully to his instructions, and Harry reiterated several times that they needed to be cautious of Dementors that were littering the Ministry. Hermione was grateful that Draco was able to summon a Patronus now to protect himself from Voldemort's reinforcements. Weeks of labor, revealing the darkest of moments, but worth it in the end.

The sun was setting as everyone made final preparations. They planned to enter at various entrances into the secured building and destroy various areas where protection wards were heavily laid for easier access. Hermione, Theodore, and Draco were tasked with traveling with Harry and Ron, their main goal to find Voldemort quickly. Draco knew he would be in the Death Chamber awaiting his fate, he was sure of it.

They went directly for the ninth floor of the Ministry, avoiding the barrage of spells being hurled in their direction. The sounds of small explosions and the echoing of curses reminded Hermione of the past ten years. Ten years of pain and anger, all leading to today.

Eruptions of flames licked up the stone walls as they made their way through the numerous floors. They passed by so much carnage and fighting, only stopping when they couldn't break past the reinforcements to find The Dark Lord.

Dementors and masked Death Eaters swarmed them, hurling killing curses directed at Draco. They were right to bring him to this battle, he was taking the brunt of the onslaught directed at them, shielding Harry from any major harm.

Instead of being Voldemort's weapon, he was now theirs. Flinging hexes, casting protection charms, all without uttering a single word. And he looked damn good doing it. The ferocity in his movements was gracefully haunting. Hermione didn't have a fear of a spell hitting her, she knew Draco wouldn't let a single one fly past without taking care of it.

"Are you okay, Granger?" he asked once they had a second to catch their breath. They were on the eighth floor, one away from the Death Chamber. It was sinking in now, the end.

"Yes," she replied. He tilted her chin from left to right to observe her face, making sure it was unscathed. His silver eyes looked like a cloudy sky, beautiful but bleak. It made her want to curl up with a book by the fireplace and wait for thunder to sound. "Am I back to being Granger now?"

"We are in the midst of war, you're Granger here. First names will be reserved for our personal battlefield," he softly said.

If they weren't so limited in time, she would have laughed and kissed him. But she could hear the muffled sounds of spells crashing into walls and the slight vibrations of the floor.

"I love you, Malfoy," she whispered.

He paused for a fraction of a second, wetting his lips, the spearmint on his breath lingering between them. "And I love you, Granger."

The sound of clattering down the long hallway tore his focus away. Harry and Ron readied their wands and stood guard of Theodore who was both breaking the wards to let them through to the Death Chamber. Once the barriers were broken, they barged their way up the stairs and to the ninth floor. Dread immediately flooded her, the Dementors circling around the high ceilings, looming over them like a bad omen.

Then she saw him. The shell of a man sitting at the throne across the large room. The monster who had destroyed everything. Taking away their families, ripping apart their lives bit by bit. They had all lost everything because of him. The true monster.

He was surrounded by several masked Death Eaters. The person directly to his left was lanky and her stance was contorted as she cackled. Draco's eyes fixated on Bellatrix, tracking her every movement as they made their way deeper into the chamber.

Hermione avoided several hexes as she descended the stairs. Flashes of torment began to litter her mind. Sirius' body falling through the veil of the stone archway in the center of the room. Her own torture at the hands of masked men, beating her until she couldn't breathe. The sound of Cormac's neck snapping, echoing against the bare stone walls. Seeing Draco burning at the hands of the Dark Lord, suffering pain far greater than she can comprehend.

"Granger!" Draco yelled as a ball of acid crashed into the steps next to her, only missing due to the hard tug on her arm from his gloved hand. Another one went flying towards Ron and Harry, and in an instant, Draco had diverted the attack. "Heads up, Potter!"

Harry was thrown back several feet from a jinx that came flying across the room. Hermione ran to him, helping him to his feet. The side of his face was swelling from the impact, and he grit his teeth. There was an anger in him she rarely saw, and it nearly mirrored Draco as he pulled away from her and marched to The Dark Lord. She walked shoulder to shoulder with her best friend, waving her wand to protect them both from any harm, hoping that the Snatchers and Dementors would stay at bay.

Their presence was already draining, if they came any nearer, she was sure they would need to retreat. There were so many Dementors swarming now, some leaving the Death Chamber, sensing defeat at hand. The ceiling of the room was already a pit of darkness, she wondered how many were actually lurking in the shadows.

"Oh Auntie Bellie!" Draco called out, taunting her and drawing attention to himself. "Come give your dear nephew a hug."

Bellatrix's cackles rattled the broken stones of their arena, almost as if to rile Draco further than the frenzied mania that was already radiating from him. He was out for blood. Her blood. Hermione knew very well that he would have loved to be the one to kill Voldemort with his own hands, but since the discovery of the horrors beneath his aunt's home, his eyes were red with hate for almost exclusively her.

To him, she was now the cruelest monster. No amount of torture he had endured would ever compare to what happened to his mother. And he was now here to rectify it.

"Show your face, wench. I want to see the fear in your eyes when I rip your fucking heart out," he called out.

Her silver mask clattered to the floor as she pointed her wand at Draco. Her stance was deadly, but had a sense of elegance and command that would make most cower away. A word didn't have to be uttered from her lips for her to cast the most dangerous spells. Her power was undeniably remarkable.

They stood at either end of the chamber, a flurry of green, red, and purple colored spells crashed into one another, briefly lighting up the dark room in beautiful colors. Every spell was lethal, if there were any doubt before that they might have felt a kinly bond between them, it was completely dissipated. Several additional Death Eaters joined the fray, attempting to assist Bellatrix, but becoming unintended casualties in a war between aunt and nephew.

It was dangerous for her to be focusing so much on his actions, she needed to center on her task at hand: Getting to Voldemort while Draco and Theodore distracted the rest of his forces.

The Dark Lord looked frail, his pale skin cracked and dry. His veins were nearly black, and even among the chaos of curses that were being cast from all angles, she could hear him coughing. It was unfathomable that this monster was the one that had topped the Wizarding World a decade before.

Next to him stood a man who had also been the hand of much of her ire. Instinctually, she pointed her wand at Goyle, his mask no longer able to hide who he was. For the first time, she had power in his presence and she was going to take full advantage of that now.

Goyle stepped forward, taking a defensive stance against the trio, positioning his body in front of the monster. Without a thought, Hermione let a string of flames shoot from the tip of her wand, aiming each blow directly at his chest. The shields he cast to block them managed to divert most of the damage, but the cinders caught onto his robe.

They began to catch, and Harry and Ron expertly capitalized on this opportunity, sending out spells to enhance the fire and illuminate their path further. Nostalgia crept over her as the three of them fought through the barrage of jinxes and curses coming their way. Reading each other's movements, not skipping a beat. It was as if the last three years never happened, and they were all still as close as they always had been.

There was hesitation in her hand when she considered her next move. The killing curse was one she rarely had ever casted, and though Goyle had done some horrific things, she couldn't help but picture the boy she had sat across from in potions class. Memories of helping him weigh his toadstool and calculating the temperature at which to brew a cure for boils. Though she wanted to, she couldn't think of the times when he called her a mudblood or made fun of her hair in the Hogwarts courtyard. She couldn't even think of the more recent times when he beat her or killed someone she cared for. He was just a kid too, just like Draco. Just like her.

But he no longer was a kid, he was a man. A man that turned into a monster of his own kind. No fangs, no scales, not even horns adorned his head. But he was now attempting to kill in the name of the Dark Lord, aiming all that he could at Harry while other Death Eaters were keeping herself and Ron distracted.

Her damn heart will get her killed, she could practically hear Draco say, feeling it breaking in her chest as green light flittered from the tip of her wand. She almost hoped that Goyle would have averted the spell, but it struck him cleanly. For a brief moment, he turned his stunned gaze, looking at her under silver. Then his body hit the ground.

Harry stormed to Voldemort, who shakily stood from the throne. He lifted his frail arm over his bald head, his curse clashing into Harry's spell. It flickered back and forth, the power pushing between them. And as she and Ron fought off the grunts attempting to protect their leader, Harry's wand let off a final spell.

The husk of Voldemort collapsed against the throne. His frail body almost melted away into the stone. At the same instance, she heard the shriek of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione turned back to face the stone dais to see Draco's teeth sunk into her throat and his fist buried deep into the center of her chest. Bellatrix's eyes were wide, her hand shaking as Draco tightened his grip, yanking her heart from her ribs. He released his fangs, letting her body tumble to the ground. Covered in blood and burnt clothing, he stood beside the archway of the veil, throwing the still beating heart down, letting it roll to the floor below.

It was over. The Dark Lord was gone. The room became eerily still as everyone processed the scene before them. But that changed quickly once the Dementors began to stir. The remaining Death Eaters and Snatchers began to scatter away, attempting to avoid and dodge the cold air that quickly began to encircle them.

"Get her out of here, Theo!" Draco yelled as he casted several spells in quick succession, temporarily warding off the approaching Dementors.

Hermione felt the brush of an icy breeze at the back of her neck, dread and emptiness. And though she felt the warm touch of Theodore's hand, she fell to her knees as a dark void came around her. It was much more intense than what she had experienced from the Lethifold. The helplessness felt overwhelming, like she couldn't even bear to stand. She eventually found herself laying prone next to Theodore, looking directly up into the dark void of the soulless fiend. Her breath began to escape her, along with any happy memory she desperately attempted to conjure.

Memories of days with her mother and father at museums. Her first days at Hogwarts with Ron and Harry. Holding James, Albus, and Lily. Stargazing with Draco.

And as she felt her own consciousness leaving, she saw the glimmer of a silver otter sweep past her. The Dementors that had surrounded Theodore and herself scurried away, the spectral otter giving the pair life again. Her soul was nearly pulled right from her lips, but the warmth of Draco's Patronus pulled her from the grips of death. Hermione quickly turned onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows to make her escape.

It happened so slowly in front of her, but in hindsight, likely occurred in just a fraction of a second. Draco's wand drawn, pointed in her direction. The stoic look on his bloodied face as he concentrated on the spell. The light of several Patronuses warding away danger. His storm colored eyes that aimed right into hers. Then, a swarm of Dementors fleeing pushed past Draco, throwing him into the veil of the stone archway.

The room cleared, and Hermione stared at the structure in the center of the room, expecting Draco to appear at the other side of it. She waited. Waited what seemed like an eternity for him to come to her side. As one second became two, two seconds became three, she felt a panic fill her lungs.

"No… no… no…" she began to heave, crawling towards the veil, the jagged floor cutting up her hands and knees.

"Hermione, don't," Theodore weakly called to her, grabbing her ankle to stop her from moving forward. She attempted to kick away, but his grip stayed firm.

"He's in there," she mumbled as if she understood the situation at hand. "I have to go get him."

Theodore was now holding her down, wrapping his arms around her. "There's no 'in there.'"

"There has to be," she said, attempting to forget that she had seen Sirius fall to the same fate. It wasn't the same though, right? Sirius had been killed before he fell into the veil. Draco was alive. He was in there. He had to be. He had to be.

Theodore pulled her deeper into his chest as she tried to claw her way towards the stone dais, he whispered softly and directly, "I've seen Voldemort throw dozens of people into that thing. They don't come back."

"Let me go!" she screamed. But he didn't. He held her tight, sitting her up, rocking her as her screams turned to sobs. Any rationality she tried to keep about her mind was now gone. She was fully unmasked now, desperate to see Draco. "Let me be with him!"

Theodore hushed her gently, "He wouldn't want me to do that, Hermione."

Harry and Ron stumbled their way over to her, asking what happened, breathless from their own near encounters with death. But she could barely hear them over her own cries. She felt the cold press of glass to her lips, and the taste of peppermint coated her mouth. A calming draught.

"You have to let me go…" she felt the warmth of the potion creep slowly over her mind. "I told Draco… I would follow him."

"And I vowed to him that I would keep you safe," Theodore said as they pulled her to her feet, ripping her away from the carnage and out of sight of the stone archway.