Chapter 10
Flashback - 'Rescue You'
May 1, 1998
Once Draco informed everyone of what had happened that night in the astronomy tower - how he had disarmed Dumbledore, meaning he was now the owner of the elder wand - chaos quickly settled in. Everyone split into three groups, each assigned a different task to work on. Ginny and Luna were in charge of organising their entry into Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and Dean put together a war strategy and Draco and Hermione worked on a plan to break into Gringotts.
After a conversation with Griphook about the sword of Gryffindor and how Bellatrix seemed to think that it should be in her vault, Harry was convinced that a Horcrux was being hidden there. For the first time, Draco agreed with him. Bellatrix would give her own life if Voldemort asked her to, she was the most loyal of any of his followers. It seemed logical that if he were to entrust anyone to protect a piece of his soul, it would be her.
With Hermione now polyjuiced as Bellatrix, Draco dressed in the Death Eater robes that he had once considered burning, Ron’s appearance altered and Harry and Griphook hidden underneath the cloak of invisibility, the group entered the bank. Every goblin stared them down as they approached the head teller. While she physically looked like Bellatrix, Hermione’s mannerisms still shone through as her legs wobbled, unaccustomed to the heeled boots.
“Mister Malfoy, Madam Lestrange,” the old goblin nodded. “What can I do for you today?”
“I wish to enter my vault,” Hermione stated, trying her best to channel Bellatrix’s crass tone.
“Would you mind presenting your wand?”
“And why should I do that?” she asked.
“It’s the bank’s policy. I’m sure you understand given the current climate,” the goblin replied.
Draco knew that the polyjuice alone wouldn’t be enough to get them past the front desk. He had originally suggested that they start slaughtering them the moment they entered. Hermione wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, it would save them a lot of time, but Harry rejected it. He said that it would only draw attention and possibly earn them a visit from Death Eaters or even Voldemort himself. Draco argued that no matter what approach they took, the Death Eaters would be alerted.
Goblins didn’t pick sides but they would do what was necessary to not be on the receiving end of a killing curse. After the ministry fell, they made an agreement to send word if certain individuals entered the bank, in exchange for them being left alone. And considering Draco had turned on Voldemort, he was positive that his name was now on that list. It didn’t matter though, Draco was fully prepared for a fight. He was also fully prepared to balance out Hermione’s manners with a threat or two.
“You’d like to see a wand?” Draco questioned.
Draco could visibly see the goblin’s throat bob as he nervously swallowed and recoiled a bit. If there was anyone that the goblins feared more than Voldemort, it was him. Even though they refused to get involved, they always took it upon themselves to stay up to date with the recent news. Which meant they were well aware of Draco’s reputation.
“Y-yes,” the goblin replied.
“Okay.” Draco calmly nodded his head as he reached into his cloak. As he removed his wand, he reached forward and gripped the lapel of the goblin’s coat and shoved the tip of his wand into the side of his neck.
“There, you have your wand,” he said. “Now escort us to Madam Lestrange’s vault.” His voice was deep, commanding and each syllable emphasised the unspoken threat.
“Right away, Mister Malfoy,” the goblin answered, flinching slightly when Draco lowered his wand.
~~~
Bellatrix’s vault was just like her state of mind - a fucking mess. When Ron tripped over an old broomstick and knocked into a table, a large gold chalice crashed onto the ground and split, causing an identical chalice to appear. Griphook informed them that a Gemino and Flagrante curse must’ve been added to the room.
“Everything that you touch will burn and multiply,” Griphook shouted.
From there, it was like a never-ending domino effect. One item would split into two, those two items would then duplicate and so on until they were neck deep and struggling to hear one another as the clanking grew louder and louder.
“I got it!” Harry exclaimed as his hand shot up into the air.
As he pushed his way through the sea of gold, a tower of stacked books came crashing down. Lunging forward to avoid being hit, Harry’s grip on the Horcrux slipped. Hermione attempted to reach for the cup but before she could, Griphook snatched it.
“We had a deal, Griphook,” Harry scolded.
“The cup for the sword!” Griphook demanded as he held out his other hand.
Harry let out an irritated groan and rolled his eyes before looking over at Hermione and saying, “Just give it to him.”
“But Harry-”
“It’s fine,” he interjected. “A deal is a deal.”
Reluctantly, Hermione reached into her small beaded bag, retrieved the sword and threw it over to Griphook. A satisfied and devious grin crept its way onto his face as he eyed the blade.
“Pleasure doing business with you all,” Griphook said as he tossed the cup to Harry.
“Yeah, whatever, now get us out of here,” Ron demanded.
Griphook shook his head. “That wasn’t a part of our deal. I said I’d get you in but I never said anything about getting you out.”
Before Draco could spit out a single insult, Griphook grabbed the other goblin’s hand and pressed it against the door to unlock it. The second he could, Griphook slipped out and slammed the door shut, locking the rest of them inside.
“Well that’s just bloody brilliant,” Ron scoffed. “Now what?”
“I told you to never trust a goblin,” Draco ridiculed. “People speak poorly about them for a reason.”
“Can we save the I told you so’s for a later time?” Harry clipped. “There are more important things to worry about right now.”
“Yeah, like the fact that we’re all about to die in this vault,” Ron complained.
“Oh please, Ronald,” Hermoine groaned. “We’re not going to die here.”
“I’m pretty certain we are. Unless you have some brilliant idea on how to get-”
“Reducto!” Hermione shouted, causing the door to fly off of its hinges.
Once the group managed to crawl out of the vault, they heard the distant sound of Griphook screaming, “Thieves! Thieves in the vault!”
The two bells needed to get passed the dragon that guarded the area were nowhere to be seen, leaving them stranded.
“I’m going to kill him!” Ron snarled.
Spotting a group of security guards rounding the corner with their wands at the ready, Draco kicked Ron in the stomach, causing him to fall back and barely avoid the curse that was shot his way.
“What the fuck was that for Malfoy?!” Ron coughed out.
“You should be thanking me, Weasley,” Draco said. “I just saved your life.”
Peeking out from behind the pillar, Draco took a quick count of the lot. Hex after hex was being thrown at them. While Ron slumped onto the ground and Harry took shelter behind the wall, Hermione met Draco’s eyes. She knew him well enough to know what he was thinking. Once she nodded her head to signal that she understood and was ready, Draco rushed off.
“Where is he going?” Harry asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied. “Do you have the cup?”
Harry nodded.
“Good. I have a plan to get us out of here, you may think I’m crazy but I need you to just trust me. But for now, stay put and wait for my signal, okay?”
“Okay,” Harry and Ron said simultaneously.
Carefully, Hermione poked her head out, looked out over the railing and spotted the basket of bells on the opposite end of the room beneath them. Raising her wand, she levitated one of the devices and cast a charm to cause it to subtly shake. Once the dragon recoiled and was at bay, Draco stepped out from the shadows and got to work.
Hermione had seen him duel at the campsite but he rarely did anything other than block. But now, Hermione was seeing him on the offensive side. She was seeing the side that earned him the name ‘The Grim’. Admittedly, she had always been curious as to what he was like as a Death Eater. It was hard for her to comprehend the fact that so many people were terrified of him. That he frightened them so much that they deemed him worse than Voldemort. She understood now though. He was ruthless, unforgiving and efficient as he made his way across the floor and casually switched between using his wand and nonverbal magic.
For the first time, Hermione found herself agreeing with Rita Skeeter.
Draco was deadly.
As soon as the final guard’s neck snapped and his body fell to the ground, Draco turned around and signalled Hermione.
Blasting the handrail to pieces, she looked at Harry and Ron and said, “Jump.”
“Are you out of your mind?!” Ron asked.
“You can’t be serious,” Harry said.
“No, I’m not and yes, I am,” she replied. “Now jump or I swear to Merlin I will hex the both of you into oblivion!”
They both raised their hands in surrender before taking a few steps back to get a running start and jumping off of the ledge and landing on the dragon’s back. Hermione waited for them to situate themselves before joining them.
“Come on Draco,” she called out. “It’s time.”
Draco looked over his shoulder as the sound of footsteps echoed in the air. He was surprised it took them this long to arrive. Hermione’s pulse quickened and her stomach dropped as Draco turned his attention back to her. She knew what he was about to say.
“No,” she objected. “We’re not leaving you!”
“I’ll hold them off and meet up with you afterwards,” he replied. “But if I’m not back within the hour, move forward with the plan and go to Hogwarts.”
“I’m not leaving you Draco!” Hermione cried out.
“I’m sorry, Granger,” he sighed as he pointed his wand at the chain binding the dragon to the ground.
Hermione’s eyes shot over to the other end of the room and she felt her heart break as a sea of black robes and silver masks came into view.
“Draco, get up here right now!”
“I’ll find you, I promise,” he said. “Relashio.”
The instant the metal severed, the dragon began clawing its way up the walls and out of the room. Hermione watched in horror as Death Eaters closed in and Draco surrendered.
~~~
“I’m going to go get him!” Hermione declared.
“Hermione, will you please just listen to me,” Harry pleaded as he chased her up the hill and into the small shack.
Angrily stomping her way into the kitchen and slamming her bag onto the table, Hermione reached inside and removed the dry clothes she had packed and forcefully shoved them into his chest.
“I did listen to you, Harry, and I get that we need to destroy the cup and do a million other things but we can’t just leave him with them! Have you forgotten that he’s the owner of the elder wand? What if you know who figured that out? He’ll kill him… he’ll kill Draco,” Hermione’s voice cracked as she choked on her tears. “I have to go.”
“Go? Where are you going?” Ginny asked as she stood in the doorway. “Where’s Malfoy?”
The mention of his name caused a sharp sting in Hermione’s chest. Grabbing her bag and turning on her heels, Hermione stormed off into the bedroom. She allowed herself two minutes to worry, overthink and cry before she collected herself, slipped out of her soaking-wet dress and changed into her fresh pair of clothes. She had just finished tying her shoes when there was a knock on the door.
“Hermione? It’s me, it’s Ginny.”
Hesitantly, Hermione let her in. Stepping inside, Ginny closed the door behind her and silently watched as Hermione threw on her jacket.
“Hermione–”
“Please Gin,” she begged. “I really don’t think I can handle hearing another person tell me that he’s going to be okay or that I have other responsibilities to tend to. You’re not going to change my mind.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You weren’t?”
“No,” Ginny said as she cautiously approached Hermione as if any sudden movements would cause her to flee. “You love him. I mean, you really love him, don’t you?”
Hermione wiped the tears from her cheeks and said, “I do. I know that he doesn’t come without flaws and is far from perfect but I love him. I have to go and get him, Gin.”
“Alright but I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Hermione said. “I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Consider it my apology to him for botching his hair,” Ginny replied. “Now, shall we go save your boyfriend or what?”
~~~
“Traitorous little shit,” Greyback snarled as he pushed Draco into a room.
The sound of the door slamming shut synced with the thud of his body crashing onto the cold and damp floor. Pushing through the pain that coursed through his body, Draco crawled his way over to the wall and propped himself up. Letting his head fall back, he closed his eyes and listened to the slow dripping of water that echoed through the room.
He hadn’t intended on playing prisoner for this long. He was going to let Greyback and Yaxley have their fun beating him and then he was going to rip out their throats and return to Hermione, but then Bellatrix arrived.
Draco surpassed Bellatrix in every skill, except for legilimency. The way in which she forced herself into another’s mind was brutal and caused more pain than any curse ever could. She was relentless and would exhaust the individual’s energy until their walls would falter. The moment she’d find a weak spot, she’d mercilessly rip through.
He tried so hard to fight back. As soon as she’d knock a wall down, he’d repair it over and over again, but eventually the back and forth grew too much for him. He was too tired, too weak. His brain felt like it was on fire as she tore through every last memory. He was done, he didn’t have it in him to shut her out anymore. But then, Bellatrix started to close in on the only thing he still wanted to protect – Hermione.
Bellatrix could sense his panic and he knew that if he wanted to divert her attention, he needed to offer her the one thing that would sign his death certificate. Draco didn’t give it a second thought and pushed the memory forward.
As soon as Bellatrix reviewed the information given to her, she retreated from his mind and apparated. He was certain that by now Voldemort had already received word that Draco was the owner of the elder wand. So now, as he sat in the dark and grimy cellar, he came to terms with his death.
He was okay with dying, that part didn’t scare him. What did scare him was never seeing Hermione again. All he wanted at this moment was to feel her touch, hear her voice and tell her how much he loved her. With his eyes still closed, he used the last of his energy to picture her.
“Draco,” he heard her voice say.
It was so clear, so real.
“Draco,” she said again.
“I love you, Hermione,” he whispered.
“Draco, open your eyes!”
A pair of hands gripped his shoulders, causing his eyes to snap open. Immediately, a combination of panic and rage filled within him. His hand flew up, tightly wrapped around the individual’s neck and slammed them onto the ground.
“Draco,” she choked out. “It’s me, it’s Hermione.”
“No you’re not!” he seethed.
Bellatrix was in his head again, he thought. He was being manipulated. She wasn’t real. She wasn’t Hermione. She couldn’t be. Bellatrix had already made him believe that he was burning alive at one point. She must’ve found out about Hermione somehow and was using her as one final torture method before Voldemort came and killed him.
“You’re not her, you’re not her, you’re not her,” he kept repeating.
“Please, Draco,” she begged as she gently placed her hand on top of his, which was still pressing down on her throat and cutting off her air supply.
“Get out of my head!” he screamed.
“What the fuck is going on?!” Ginny asked as she rushed forward and drew her wand.
Hermione held up her hand to stop her and looked back at Draco. She didn’t know what they had done to him but she knew that it was bad. There was so much pain in his eyes. He had suffered so much in the short amount of time that they were apart and it broke her heart.
“I love you,” she said to him as she slowly reached for her wand. “You’re going to be okay, Draco. I promise.” With a slight flick of her wrist, Draco’s body went limp and he released his hold on her.
“What was wrong with him?” Ginny asked as she helped move Draco’s body off of Hermione.
“I don’t know,” Hermione replied. “Let’s just get him out of here.”
~~~
Ginny graciously answered the hundreds of questions Harry and Ron began spewing out the second they returned to the shack, giving Hermione the space and privacy needed to work on Draco, who was still unconscious.
The second she laid him down on the bed she began running diagnostics. There were no signs of curses and aside from a broken rib, a gash across his abdomen and one on his right thigh, all of which Hermione healed, he was physically okay. His nervous system, however, was a mess. It was a miracle that he was capable of still forming a coherent sentence.
Countless times Harry and Ron tried to come and talk to her. She felt bad for snapping at them each time but she wanted to be left alone She understood that they were behind schedule, she understood that others were waiting on them and that there were important things that needed to be done but all she cared about at the moment was Draco.
“Hermione?” Ginny called out as she knocked on the door. “Can I come in?”
Closing her eyes, Hermione took a deep breath and stepped away from Draco’s side to go and answer the door. She didn’t mind Ginny’s company because she understood. She saw the way that he was in the cellar.
“How is he?” Ginny asked.
“I did what I could,” Hermione said as she returned to her spot on the edge of the bed and grabbed Draco’s hand. “I won’t know for certain until he wakes up.”
Ginny nodded her head and lowered herself into the chair against the wall.
“I know what you’re thinking, Hermione,” she said. “What happened to him, whatever those psychopaths did, it’s not your fault.”
Hermione winced at her words.
“I should’ve made him leave with us,” Hermione replied, her voice breaking.
“I may not know him as well as you do but I think it’s safe to say that there was nothing you could’ve done to make him leave.”
“I could’ve bound his arms and legs and forced him up onto the dragon or I should’ve jumped off the dragon and stayed with him. He would’ve fought against them then.”
“Maybe,” Ginny said. “But it doesn’t do you or him any good to focus on that right now.”
Hermione knew that Ginny was right but she couldn’t help it. Guilt had been eating away at her ever since they returned to the shack. She knew that if the situation at Gringotts was reversed, Draco would’ve never left her.
He had sacrificed himself for her multiple times and she hated that she never did anything to stop him. That she never did anything to try and save him.
Hermione was done standing idly by. She was done being the one that needed saving.
~~~
Harry, Ron, Ginny and Dean left for Hogwarts half an hour ago. It took a lot of repeating herself but Hermione managed to convince them that she’d be okay on her own.
“We’ll catch up with you,” is what she had told them. Because they were. Draco was going to wake up soon and he was going to be himself again and then they’d join everyone at school, she was sure of it.
Ginny was the most hesitant to leave. She was worried that Draco would wake up and that he wouldn’t be himself. She knew that Hermione wouldn’t be able to do what was necessary if he was violent towards her again. Ginny didn’t hate Draco, she had actually grown rather fond of him during their time together at the cottage. But if she had to choose between saving an unstable Draco or her best friend, she’d choose the latter.
Hermione understood where Ginny was coming from but she couldn’t afford to think like that.
She was going to be fine.
He was going to be fine.
~~~
A small groan caused Hermione’s head to shoot up from her hands. As soon as she saw Draco’s eyes begin to open, she moved up the bed and leaned into him.
“Draco?” she said softly, her heart racing as she anxiously waited to see which version of him was waking.
“Granger-” Draco whispered.
“Yes, it’s me, Draco. It’s Hermione.”
“No, I know that it’s you,” he softly chuckled. “I was trying to tell you that your elbow is digging into my chest.”
“Oh!” Hermione quickly sat up and lifted her arm off of him. “Sorry.”
Finally, Draco fully opened his eyes and looked up at her. “Hi,” he said, his lips stretching into a soft smile.
“Hi,” she smiled back, tears instantly rolling down her cheeks as a wave of relief washed over her.
“Why are you crying?” he asked as he wiped the tears with his thumb and caressed her cheek.
She shook her head. “I just-I was worried that I had lost you.”
“You’ll never lose me, Granger.”
Leaning her head into his palm, she said, “I love you, Draco.”
“I love you too, Hermione.”
Present Day
There were certain memories from the war that Draco refused to remember, they were too painful. The ones like the manor and Bellatrix torturing him would occasionally slip through the cracks but other ones, like when he had nearly killed Hermione, were buried so deep that he had no recollection of them.
It was his way of coping. He needed to be strong for Hermione, even if that meant suppressing traumatic events instead of working through them. Draco had decided that perhaps when Hermione was better he’d finally process everything that he went through. But until then, he was content with not remembering.
A sharp crack caused Hermione and Draco’s heads to turn.
“Master Draco, your guests have arrived!” Bippy informed him.
“They have?” he asked, surprised by the statement. “Who all is here?”
“Miss Ginny Weasley and Mister Harry Potter are in the foyer and Bippy saw Mister Blaise Zabini, Miss Pansy Parkinson and Mister Theodore Nott approaching the gate,” Bippy said, her cheeks flushing as Theo’s name fell from her lips.
“Very good,” Draco nodded. “Please tend to our guests and offer them refreshments. Then in ten minutes, escort them all to the west wing.”
“Yes Master Draco,” Bippy replied before apparating.
“Miss Granger,” Draco said as he got up from the sofa. “Would you mind accompanying me to one last place this evening?”
“It would be my honour, Mister Malfoy,” Hermione playfully replied.
As they walked through the manor together, Draco fiddled with the black stone on his ring as the nerves began to settle in. He had been planning this moment for months. The week after the battle ended he purchased her ring. He didn’t tell anyone, knowing that they’d say he was being impulsive and should take time to think about it but he didn’t want to. He understood that they were still young but they had done it. Against all odds, they had made it out alive, and if surviving a war taught him anything, it was that he wanted a life with Hermione.
He never thought the day would come when he would be excited about the idea of marriage but that’s what he was, excited. Sure, some things still needed to be worked on and he knew that there were several hard days ahead of them, but he was ready. They may not be in the cottage they talked about or had bought the flat in a muggle neighbourhood but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to him was being with her.
Reaching the west wing, Draco felt his hand shake as he gripped the handle and opened the door for Hermione.
“Don’t tell me you’ve put together a second library,” Hermione jokingly said.
Draco let out a small laugh as he tried his best to hide his nerves. “Unfortunately, I did not,” he replied. “Do you remember that time when we stayed up all night planning out our future?” Draco asked as he guided her through the room.
“Of course.”
“And do you remember telling me your dream proposal just in case some miracle happened and I managed to remove the broom from my arse and change my stance on marriage?”
“Yes,” Hermione giggled.
Snapping his fingers, the lights in the room shut off and hundreds of small dots began to glow in the space above their heads to form the Orion constellation. While Hermione looked up at them, Draco removed the small box from his pocket and got down on one knee. The sound of the box snapping open caught Hermione’s attention.
Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at the ring in his hands. “Draco, what are you doing?”
“I know that I said I’d never want to get married. That I didn’t see a point in the titles or the rings or the ceremony, but I do now,” he began. “I know that we’re still young and by all means, we can wait as long as you’d like to make it official, but I want this, Hermione. I want this with you.”
“Draco…”
“Wait, please,” he requested. “I’ve rehearsed this speech a million times but if I don’t get it all out I’ll probably forget something and I really don’t want to.” He took a deep breath, gathered all of his courage and continued. “You are the most amazing woman I have ever met, Hermione. If everyone viewed the world as you do, and was in the possession of the heart that you have, it would be a far better place. I kick myself daily for taking so long to make my way to you but Gods, I am so happy that I eventually did.”
Hermione stared down at him with glossy eyes. She knew that she should stop him but she couldn’t bring herself to. Selfishlessly, she wanted to hear everything that he had to say.
“Before you, I was nothing more than a product of my father. I was a child who was raised like cattle to serve a single purpose, to act accordingly and carry out the family name. I had never dreamt of a future for myself because I had no reason to. But now, all I dream about is my future… our future. You have shown me that it’s okay to be vulnerable, to let people in and to have hope. There are a lot of things that I can’t promise but the one thing that I can is that I will always love you, Hermione. I will love you on the easy days and I’ll love you even more on the hard ones. Whatever challenges that may arise, we will face them together. There is nothing that I want more in this world than to build a life with you. Marry me, Hermione.”
She didn’t know how to respond. He had done the one thing he said he’d never do and it was for her. He had given Hermione her dream proposal and poured his heart out and it was perfect, he was perfect. Her heart broke as she looked down at him on one knee. It was everything that she wanted and it killed her to know that she couldn’t have it.
“Draco I–” she began but she was cut off.
“Draco?” Pansy chimed as she and the rest of the group walked in.
“Pans, good to see you,” he replied. “If you could just give us a moment.”
“Us? Draco, who are you talking about?” she questioned.
“Did your travels fry your brain Pans? I’m referring to Granger and me, obviously. And if you couldn’t tell by the ring in my hand and the fact that I’m on one knee, I’m kind of in the middle of something important. I didn’t expect Bippy to be so prompt with getting you all here.”
“Mate,” Theo said as he stepped forward. “Hermione isn’t here.”
“What are you talking about Theo? She’s standing right in front of me,” Draco said as he turned and looked up at Hermione, who had an almost horrified look on her face.
“No, she’s not,” Theo replied.
“Yes, she is,” he argued.
“Draco,” Theo’s voice was gentle as he slowly approached him. “Hermione isn’t here.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Draco ridiculed as he got up to his feet.
Theo’s heart ached as he stared at his best friend. He knew that Draco was struggling but he didn’t realise just how bad it was.
“Draco, listen to me,” Theo said as he placed a sympathetic hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Hermione isn’t here.”
Smacking his hand away, Draco said, “Look, I get it if you think I’m being impulsive or that we’re too young to get married or whatever but stop, Theo. This isn’t funny.”
“I know that you’re hurting but you need to accept it,” Theo said. “Hermione is gone.”
“Fuck you!” Draco spat before connecting his fist with Theo’s jaw, causing him to stumble backwards. Grabbing onto the front of his shirt, Draco pinned Theo against the wall.
“Hermione never came back from the war,” Theo coughed out.
“Shut up!” Draco shouted before punching him in the stomach.
Everyone was too stunned, too busy trying to process what was happening to say or do anything. Except for Ginny, who was already rushing forward.
“Look at me!” she commanded as she ripped Draco away from Theo. “I know you’ve probably blocked a majority of the battle out, I know I have, but you need to remember.”
“What are you talking about?” Draco scoffed. “I remember the war. Potter died, then he came back to life and killed Voldemort.”
“Actually, I wasn’t the one who-” Harry began but Ginny raised her hand to silence him.
“Just fucking humour me and do it,” Ginny said. “You don’t even need to remember all of it, just the last half. Where were you when Harry jumped out of Hagrid’s arms?”
Annoyed but wanting to move on from the topic, Draco’s brows pulled together as he thought back on the war.
“I was with Granger,” he replied. “We were on the steps in front of the school.”
“Good, yes,” Ginny nodded. “And then after Harry ran off and Voldemort followed him, what happened?”
Draco took another moment as he tried to remember.
“We got separated for a little, ” he said. “I got hit in the arm by a hex while I searched for Hermione. Eventually, I found her in the courtyard, a Death Eater was approaching behind her.”
Flashback - 'The End'
“Down, Granger!” Draco shouted as he rushed forward, covered her face with his arm and sent what was most likely his hundredth killing curse of the day. Once the Death Eater fell to the ground, Draco placed his hand under Hermione’s chin, tilted her head back and checked for any wounds.
“Are you okay?” he asked, the look in his eyes just as frantic as the tone lacing his words.
“Yes,” she replied. Her jaw fell open and her eyes widened as she took note of the gash in his left arm. “But you’re not. You’re bleeding, Draco.”
“I’m fine,” he reassured her. “We have to keep moving, okay?”
“Right, okay,” she nodded.
“Stay close, Granger. I can’t lose you.”
Draco and Hermione were prepared for the inevitable battle against Voldemort, at least they thought they were. They knew that there would be people who died in the process but they didn’t expect a full-on blood bath.
As they manoeuvred their way across the courtyard, Draco gripped tightly onto Hermione’s hand as he nonverbally slaughtered every individual that he spotted dressed in black robes while Hermione blocked the hundreds of hexes flying towards them.
They had been fighting for hours, exhausting every last drop of their magic. They were rarely offered a moment to catch their breath before having to turn and do it all over again.
Sharp and agonised screams pierced Hermione’s ears as they made their way across the battlefield. Every three steps she had to slightly jump to avoid stepping on the lifeless body of one of her former classmates.
Every professor, student and their family members were fighting alongside them but many lacked the skills and training needed to properly defend themselves. After the first half of the battle, when Voldemort called for the Death Eaters to retreat, Hermione took count of the bodies that lined the Great Hall.
Eighty-five.
Eighty-five men, women and children had already been lost and the war wasn’t even close to ending. She did her best to help Madam Pomfrey and the other healers with patching wounds and mending broken bones but she was drained physically, mentally and emotionally and she could see that Draco was too.
He had been through so much already and barely had time to recover from the side effects of Bellatrix’s abusive legilimency. And to top it off, he was grieving. Remus’ and Tonks’ bodies were in the centre of the Great Hall. They would’ve walked right past them if Molly Weasley hadn’t stopped them.
Draco’s expression remained emotionless as Molly offered him her condolences but Hermione could see how much he was hurting. She could see it in the way his jaw clenched and how his eyebrow twitched.
It destroyed him.
Draco had never felt pain like that before. He was so angry at Tonks. She was supposed to stay home with Teddy and Andromeda. She was supposed to stay alive. He didn’t even get to see her one last time, though if he had he would’ve dragged her back home immediately. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break everything within the vicinity, but he didn’t. He kept his composure because if he broke, he wasn’t sure he would be able to put himself back together and he couldn’t afford to fall apart, not yet.
While Harry and Ron were busy trying to kill the snake, and with Remus and Tonks now gone, everyone turned to Hermione and Draco to lead them.
Hermione had just lost so many people. Remus, Tonks, Fred, Padma, the list went on. So when everyone turned to her for guidance, she, for the first time, didn’t know what to do. She was out of dittany to distribute, out of weaponised vials and she was wiped clean of all hope. The fire that had previously burned so passionately within her had died along with her friends. Despair hung heavy in the air and every breath that she drew suffocated her.
But then Draco stepped forward and spoke. It wasn’t an award-winning speech by any means and it was probably far too hostile and contained too many swear words but still, it worked. The spark reignited within their peers and within Hermione.
There was one part of Draco’s speech that continued to replay in Hermione’s head.
“They deserve to have their sacrifice mean something. If we give up now, then we’re only insulting them,” he had said.
Hermione knew that he was referring to Remus and Tonks. It was at that moment that she decided that she couldn’t give up, no matter how tired she may be. She had to keep pushing forward, she had to keep fighting. And most of all, she had to make sure Draco lived and made it to Teddy.
~~~
Rounding the corner, Hermione and Draco stepped out into what used to be the entrance hall of the castle. Before them, standing amidst the carnage and destruction, was Voldemort.
“You need to leave, Granger,” Draco commanded as his grip tightened on the handle of his wand, his eyes never leaving Voldemort’s cold, unfeeling and snake-like gaze.
Hermione squared her shoulders, her own wand at the ready. “I’m not leaving you, Draco. We’re in this together.”
“Young love,” Voldemort drawled. “Pity that it should end so soon.”
With a flick of his wrist, a beam of light escaped the tip of Voldemort’s wand and soared towards Draco. Dragging his wand through the air, Draco deflected the curse and immediately threw one back. The tension was palpable, and the air was charged with magic as Hermione and Draco faced off against Voldemort. Their wands moved in perfect synchronisation as they matched him spell for spell. The room filled with the sound of curses and lit up with bright flashes of light as their magic collided.
“Working with the Order, concealing the location of Harry Potter, falling in love with a mudblood,” Voldemort seethed, each fact emphasised with a hex. “Your list of betrayals seems to go on forever, Draco.”
“Call me an overachiever,” Draco shrugged as he countered the curse.
Hermione and Draco remained focused as they continued to circle Voldemort, taking turns muttering enchantments, praying that one would finally hit their target. The elder wand was a powerful match but its allegiance wasn’t with Voldemort. Draco could see it beginning to fail him. Draco’s lips parted as he prepared to send another curse but then he heard a scream. His eyes shot over to the left to investigate the source of the sound. Every muscle in his body was taut with tension as he stared at Greyback, who had his wand pressed into the side of Hermione’s neck.
With his focus on Hermione, Draco didn’t see Voldemort raise his wand and cast a killing curse. The cracking sound of the magic caused his head to turn. To his surprise, the green beam was intercepted by a far more powerful stream of red. Looking to his right, Draco watched as Lucius slowly stepped out of the shadows. Lucius quickly glanced over at Draco, checking for any injuries, before turning back to face Voldemort.
Another crack to his left earned Draco’s attention. He remained still as Narcissa moved forward with deadly grace. Her movements were slow and controlled, each step measured and precise as she disarmed Greyback, offering Hermione a chance to slip from his hold and run over to Draco.
With Hermione now in his arms, Draco’s eyes flicked back and forth between his parents, watching as the scene unfolded before him. Narcissa and Lucius stood tall as they faced their opponents, determination etched into their faces. Vibrant colours soared through the air as curses and counter-curses were exchanged.
Draco didn’t know what to think as he watched Lucius stand against Voldemort. He was fighting to protect Draco, to keep him safe from harm. It was the first time that Draco had witnessed his father prioritise his family, prioritise him. So when his wand flew out of his hand and a blinding light crashed into Lucius’ body, Draco experienced an unfamiliar emotion when it came to his father - admiration. He didn’t have time to feel any sorrow or grief in regard to his father’s passing because immediately, he heard his mother call out his name.
Rushing to her side, Draco held Narcisa in his arms and removed the dagger from her abdomen. The clinking sound of the metal hitting the stone floor harmonised with Bellatrix’s deranged laugh.
Everything was moving at lightning speed as Draco cast a spell to dismember Greyback and another to split open Bellatrix’s throat and then suddenly, time slowed and everything went silent. His eyes tracked his wand as it left his hand, flew through the air and landed in Hermione’s grasp.
Draco’s throat constricted and his heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest as her lips formed the words “I love you,” and tears fell from her eyes.
“No!” he screamed as he lunged forward, but before his left foot could even touch the ground, a deadly beam of light slammed into the centre of her chest.
Rage and anger boiled within him, a fiery inferno that consumed him entirely. As Draco’s gaze met Voldemort’s, something snapped within him. Drawing upon every last drop of his magic, he channelled all of his hatred and fury and released it with a roar of defiance. The ground beneath their feet shook and the walls around them came crumbling down as Draco advanced, unleashing a barrage of spells, each one striking its target with devastating precision. Voldemort staggered against the weight and relentless force of Draco’s magic until finally, he fell to his knees and his body began to disintegrate. Draco felt the flame within him die down as he watched his former master turn into nothing more than specks of ash, floating away in the wind.
Present Day
Draco dropped to his knees. It felt like he had been hit with a thousand crucios and like his body had been dismantled - each limb torn from its place and his heart thrown into a pool of acid. His throat was narrow as he struggled to draw in a single breath. His ears were ringing, his head throbbing, and even the slightest bit of light caused his eyes to burn.
None of that was real.
It couldn’t be real.
He didn’t want it to be real.
“Draco,” he heard a muffled voice say. The gentle pressure of a hand on his shoulder caused his head to snap over to his left, hoping and praying that it would be Hermione looking down at him, but it wasn’t.
“Draco,” Ginny said once more, her voice soft and compassionate.
“No,” he choked out as he shook his head. “No no NO!” his voice broke as he tightly covered his ears and hunched over, his forehead pressed against the cold marble floor. “She’s not dead, she’s not dead, she’s not dead,” he kept repeating.
“It’s going to be alright.”
“No!” he snapped as he shot up to his feet, his eyes frantically searching the room for the witch that he was certain he had just spent the last four months with.
“See!” he said as he pointed over at Hermione, who was still standing in the centre of the room. “She’s right there, she’s fine.”
Everyone looked in the direction he was pointing, only to see empty space.
“Draco,” Pansy said delicately. “There’s no one there.”
“Yes there is!” he argued as he began walking towards Hermione. “Look, I’ll even grab her-” Draco’s heart fell into his stomach as his hand passed straight through hers. He shook his head in disbelief as he reached out for her again. Draco desperately tried to grab onto her hand, her arm, waist, face, anything. He just needed to feel her, to know that she was there. But each time, his hand moved through her like thin air.
“This can’t-I don’t-” he stammered as he stared at Hermione, waiting for her to say that it was just a joke, a stupid trick that they were all playing on him, and that of course she was there, but she didn’t.
Tears streamed down her face as she looked into Draco’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking with every word.
Bile rose in the back of his throat as he ran his fingers through his hair. They were all coming back, the memories. All of the moments that he had suppressed for the last four months and the emotions that came with them.
Anger.
Frustration.
Sorrow.
Loneliness.
But the one that consumed him the most, the emotion that had left him completely debilitated and forced him to compartmentalise in the first place, was guilt. It ate away at him and each breath that he’d take would send a sharp and agonising pain through his chest, and now he was experiencing it all over again. It felt wrong to be still breathing, to be still alive. What good had he done that earned him the right to still live and not Hermione? The answer was none, which he decided was the reason that he was in this circumstance in the first place.
What better way to condemn him for his wrongdoings than to force him to live without the only person who gave his life meaning?
He stumbled backwards, reaching out to grab something, anything, to keep from falling. The room spun around him, and he felt as though he was suffocating. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything but the excruciating pain in his chest. He heard someone speak but their voice was muffled by the loud ringing in his ears.
He felt a scream building inside him, a scream of loss, grief, and anger, but before he could release it, he felt another hand on his shoulder. He wished people would stop touching him. He didn’t want to feel them, he wanted to feel her.
“Mate-” Theo said.
Draco grasped Theo’s wrist and twisted his arm back. “Where were you?” he asked. “Where were you this entire fucking time?! Why didn’t-why didn’t you tell me?” Draco turned to look at the rest of his friends. “Why didn’t any of you fucking tell me?!”
“We tried,” Harry sheepishly stated. “We all took turns coming to visit you, but each time you had Bippy turn us away. After a month we sort of just…” he trailed off as he looked down at his hands.
“You sort of just, what, Potter?” Draco snarled. “You sort of just moved on with your life? You sort of just went on your merry little way and moved on from her?”
“That’s not fair, Draco,” Hermione said.
Turning around, he looked at the ghost of the woman that he loved. “Fair?” he scoffed. “You think I give a damn about fair? None of this is fair, Granger! You’re not even-” his voice caught in the back of his throat. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath before continuing. “You’re not even real.”
It felt like she had been hit with the killing curse all over again as the words fell from his lips.
“Just because you can’t touch me doesn’t mean I’m not real, Draco,” Hermione said quietly. “I’m still here with you, doesn’t that count for something?”
“That’s not good enough! I don’t want some conjured version of you that only I can see, I want the real you! I want to take your hand and put this stupid fucking ring on it,” Draco said as he angrily held up the small box. “I want to stand with you before our friends and say those damn vows and kiss you. I want to build our cottage, buy our flat in the muggle neighbourhood, and start a family with you, but I can’t, we can’t!”
“Draco, please,” she said as she took a step toward him.
“No,” Draco said as he raised his hand to stop her. “Don’t come any closer. I can’t… it’s too much and I… just don’t.”
His mind was a mess, a tornado of emotions that were all screaming at him. He wanted to destroy everything, to lash out at the world and make everyone pay for taking Hermione away from him. He felt the anger welling up inside him and he couldn’t take it anymore, he was about to explode. Turning, Draco walked straight past his friends, ignoring their questions as to where he was going, and slammed the door behind him.
As he stormed through the manor and out to the gardens, Draco began piecing everything together. It was right in front of him the whole time. Hermione would back away whenever he’d reach for her not because she didn’t want him to touch her, but because he couldn’t. She’d never eat the food Bippy would prepare because she couldn’t even pick up the damn fork. Even her breakdowns and the things that she would say - she was practically screaming it in his face and he never saw it. He ignored it all so that he could continue living in his fantasy world, and in the process, he made her suffer.
For the last four months, Draco thought that everything he was doing was for Hermione. He believed that he was helping her through the healing process but instead, he was destroying her. She died and he forced her to continue to remember the life that she wouldn’t get to have.
He felt like he was about to throw up.
Bursting through the door of the greenhouse, Draco looked around at the place that he had worked so tirelessly on. He walked to the centre of the room, his eyes fixed on the rows of flowers and plants, stopping when he reached the orchids. He had built this for Hermione in hopes that it would be a place that would bring her peace, but now Draco could see that all it did was bring her anguish. He had single-handedly tainted one of her favourite memories with her parents by building it.
Taking out his wand he whispered, “Incendio.”
Stepping outside, Draco stood back and watched as the greenhouse went up in flames. He felt so foolish for believing that he would be able to live a happy life with Hermione. He wasn’t deserving of happiness and this was the world’s cruel way of reminding him of that. He couldn’t stand the thought of living in a world without her, of having to face a future that was devoid of her warmth and love.
Finally, he allowed himself to scream. All of the rage, frustration, and heartache poured out of him as he strained his vocal cords until they gave out. He wanted to destroy everything that reminded him of the love that was ripped away from him. He wanted to rid himself of the memories, of the torment, of Hermione.
Heading back inside and now finding himself in the library, he scanned over the hundreds of books that lined the shelves. Draco had spent weeks tracking down the first editions of every book that he knew she loved. He had built Hermione her own personal library as a symbol of his devotion to her and of his admiration for her thirst for knowledge. But for what? She would never be able to read them. She wouldn’t even be able to pick up one of the bloody books.
Draco rushed towards the nearest shelf and made his way down the line of books, ripping the pages from within and throwing them across the room. He continued this cycle until he was surrounded by hundreds of shredded pieces of paper. He had just removed his wand and was preparing to set the room on fire, to cleanse himself of the memory of her, just like he did with the greenhouse, but then he heard his mother’s voice.
“Perhaps we don’t start a fire in the house,” Narcissa said as she stood in the doorway, her hands elegantly folded in front of her. “It would be an awful shame to lose a place that’s been in the family for centuries.”
A surge of pain coursed through Draco as he looked at his mother. He had been so consumed by the loss of Hermione that he had forgotten about the others he lost as well.
His mother, Remus, Tonks, and even his father. He hadn’t blocked out his death but he did suppress how Lucius died. He died protecting him. It was too much, there were too many people that he had lost, too many who had sacrificed their lives and it was breaking him. It felt like the weight of the world was on his chest and it was crushing him, breaking every bone in his body.
He was alone.
Everyone that he loved was gone.
Falling to his knees, Draco dropped his head in his hands and let everything surface. He could hear the screams of the dying and the clash of the spells ringing in his head like a never-ending chorus. He could vividly see the image of his father being hit by the killing curse, he could feel the warmth of his mother’s blood on his hands after removing the dagger from her abdomen, and he could remember the weight of Hermione's lifeless body as he held her in his arms.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all his fault. If he had just done what was asked of him, if he had played his part as a Death Eater, and never searched for a way out, then he wouldn’t have fallen in love with Hermione and she would’ve never given her life to save him. His father and mother would’ve never had to fight to protect him and maybe, somehow, Remus and Tonks would still be alive too.
“Darling,” Narcissa said as she crouched down beside him. “I know it might not feel like it right now, but this feeling will pass. You will piece yourself back together and you’ll be alright.”
“I don’t understand,” he choked out between sobs. “If you’re gone then how can I… how can I still see and hear you?”
Narcissa pointed to the black stone on Draco’s ring.
“The resurrection stone,” she said. “Powerful enough to bring back loved ones but not powerful enough to do so fully.”
Draco remembered Harry talking about the resurrection stone during the Horcrux hunt. He had discovered it hidden within the golden snitch that Dumbledore had left to him. What he didn’t remember was how he came to be in possession of it.
As if Narcissa could read his mind, she said, “It was a week after the battle. You were so distraught. You would start your morning with a bottle of firewhiskey and then you’d end your evening with enough calming draught to sedate a troll. It broke my heart to watch you suffer so much, Draco.”
“You were watching me?” he asked.
“Of course I was, all of us were. Your father, Tonks, Remus, and Hermione. Although it may have seemed like it, we never once left your side,” Narcissa replied. “We also watched as you shut everyone out and locked yourself away. I think it was the loneliness that finally did it for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
Narcissa let out a sigh. “One day you sort of just snapped. I wanted so badly to reach out and hold you at that moment, to tell you that everything was going to be okay and that none of this was your fault, because it isn’t Draco.”
“But mother I-”
“It doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do,” she said, cutting him off. “We all chose to do what we did out of our own free will, out of our love for you.”
Draco wanted to argue with Narcissa. He wanted to list off all of the reasons as to why it was his fault, but he had no energy and no fight left. He was drained. He was numb.
“It still doesn’t make any sense,” Draco said. “Potter had the resurrection stone before the war.”
“That he did, which is why you broke into his flat one day and demanded that he handed it over.”
As if her words were the key, the memory rushed forward and played out in Draco’s head.
“I know you have it, Potter!” Draco shouted as he pinned him against the wall.
“I told you that I don’t have it!” Harry replied. “I dropped it somewhere in the forbidden forest.”
“Where?”
“How the bloody hell am I supposed to know?! In case you forgot, I literally died in that forest.”
“Shame it didn’t stay that way,” Draco quipped.
Ignoring his remark, Harry asked, “What is it that you want with the stone anyways?”
“The fuck do you think, Potter?”
Harry’s eyes softened. He recognised the pain in Draco’s face, it was how he imagined he looked when he lost Sirius.
“Malfoy,” he sighed. “The stone won’t bring her back, you know? Not fully at least.”
Draco’s grip on Harry’s shirt loosened, his shoulders dropped and he clenched his jaw.
“I’m well aware,” Draco replied, his voice strained. “But a piece of her is better than nothing at all.”
Draco’s head pounded as the memories continued to assault his mind. He remembered it all. Leaving Harry’s flat. Searching the forbidden forest for hours. Finally finding the stone and seeing Hermione and the pang in his chest when he heard her say his name.
And then he remembered losing her all over again.
He had returned to the manor and was in the middle of talking to Hermione when he set the stone down on the table and turned around to see that he was, once again, all alone. He remembered taking an old ring of his and fusing it with the stone so that he could have it on him at all times, so that he could have Hermione with him at all times.
His hand shook as he reached for the resurrection stone. He was ready to have her back but was fearful that his alterations somehow interfered with the magic that made it possible for him to summon her in the first place. To his relief, when he picked up the ring, Hermione materialised before him.
He had gotten her back.
Then, the breakdowns began.
Hermione would voice her pain and frustration. She didn’t want to be confined to the restrictions of the resurrection stone. She wanted to be alive fully or she wanted to remain dead. Hermione and Draco fought for hours on end for the first few weeks.
“I know that I’m being selfish, I understand that!” Draco shouted as he frustratingly ran his hand down the length of his face. “But we can be together this way.”
“We can’t even touch, Draco!” Hermione argued.
“I know but–”
“And what about your future?” she asked. “What about all of the plans that you made?”
“The only plans I made are the ones with you!”
“You can’t just throw away your life, Draco!”
“You are my life, Granger,” Draco replied. “Without you, there’s nothing. I’m nothing.”
A majority of their fights contained the same argument, just worded differently. Hermione would say that he needed to move on and start building his life and Draco would shut it down by saying that there was no reason for him to do so if he couldn’t do it with her.
It was an exhausting first few weeks, but eventually, Hermione conceded. Draco was in an unimaginable amount of pain and she thought that if she just leaned into the situation and gave it some time, he’d heal. She had hoped that by her being there, she could help him process everything and then he could start living again.
Instead, Draco ended up suppressing everything. All of the traumatic events throughout the Horcrux hunt and a majority of the war were filed away and safely hidden behind occlumency.
He had changed the ending to their story.