Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Always Mine	By : RynStar15 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 11545 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter world or characters which belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I intend no copyright infringement by using the characters therein.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
As the crowds grew and Potter was swept up in the throng, I turned and ran the up the broken steps, winding through the victors dragging their captors down to the Entrance Hall, several still putting up a fight. I had eyes for none of them. There was only one person who filled my thoughts now.
I burst into the hospital wing and was nearly ill. The sight, the grisly smell, was almost more than I could bear. Injured people overflowed the enlarged room, some sitting or lying on the floor, every bed filled, Madam Pomfrey flying around like a madwoman as the injured screamed in agony.
It took me several moments to find her, bustled around as I was by the flood of people, the cries of the dying jarring me deeper than I cared to admit. I finally caught sight of her, lying on a bed near the middle of the room, blood soaked sheets puddled around her. I weaved between the masses to Hermione where she lay- still, pale, but breathing. She was alive. Relief such as I had never known flooded through me, sapping me of what remaining energy I had and I sank to my knees next to her, my eyes never leaving her wan face for a moment. She lived. It was over. And we were both alive.
These thoughts penetrated my frazzled mind and I reached out to touch her cheek. It was warm and I could feel her soft breath against my dirt and blood covered fingers. I was shocked to realize my hand was shaking.
A heart-wrenching scream tore through the air, rising above the others and I jerked around to see a hysterical woman who had thrown herself over a man whose empty eyes were wide, a pool of blood spreading around him on the tile floor. Several people rushed forward to pry the screaming woman away while a man on the other side of the room roared in pain, another man bursting into the hospital wing carrying a boy who could be no more than sixteen, crying for help. Everywhere I turned was confusion and desperation, blood and bile and bodies of the broken innocents who had given themselves to save others.
I was bone tired and wished nothing more than to lie next to Hermione and never move again, but I remembered how Hermione had nursed everyone after the battle at headquarters and I knew what I had to do. Taking a deep breath, I leaned over and kissed Hermione on the forehead and with one last look at her serene face, I sought out Madam Pomfrey.
"How can I help?"
She looked as though she might cry as she straightened from winding gauze around the Weasley prefect's head. "Oh, my dear! Can you please start with Mr. Finnigan at the end there? He's got a broken leg. The spell is Episkey!"
I recognized the sandy-haired Gryffindor and weaved my way through the disorder towards him. His face was pale and both hands clutched his left knee which was pointed in an odd angle toward his other leg, the bone sticking out through his trousers. I kneeled next to him and he looked up, blood caking the side of his face.
"Malfoy?" he asked, bewildered.
"That would be me," was my witty response, swallowing past the nauseated lump which had formed in my throat at the gruesome sight. I pointed to his mangled knee. "Mind?"
I fixed my first bones, handed out potions, wrapped wounds, and finally helped several other wizards with extending the wing and conjuring more beds to hold everyone.
When I looked up from a pretty dark girl whose name was Angelina, I noticed that a weak light was starting to creep up on the horizon. It was morning.
"Malfoy!"
I turned to the voice and stood as I saw Potter snaking his way toward me. He held out his hand. I looked down at him, incredulous. He just continued to hold it out, his gaze never wavering, until I took it.
"Well, Potter," I said, smirking. "Looks like you've saved the day. Again."
"Couldn't have done it without you. I can't thank you enough for everything," he said, gesturing around the room. "You made all this possible."
I said nothing. How could I take credit for something I hardly had any control over?
For a moment, we stood there awkwardly. What did you say to the man you had loathed for nearly seven years who had just saved the world?
"How is Hermione?" Potter finally asked to break the tension.
"Resting," I said, nodding over to her. I had checked on her every twenty minutes or so and she had yet to move. Despite Madam Pomfrey's constant reassurance that this was good, it meant she was healing well, I was still nervous. I wanted her eyes open, I wanted to hear her voice, to hear her reassurance so I could know, truly know…
"She'll be all right. She's been through worse," Potter said soothingly, walking over to her side. He took her hand and I felt a sudden surge of jealousy. He looked up at me. "What are you going to tell her?"
I attempted to stamp down the roiling envy of their easy relationship. "About what?"
"About what you told me in McGonagall's office. I don't want to see her hurt again," Potter said seriously. It seemed I was going to have to get used to Potter's protective relationship with Hermione. I would have to remind myself that they were probably much closer than the average friendship because of everything they had been through. But this was good, I told myself. It was comforting to know she would always have someone to turn to.
His question, however, was wholly unsettling. As much as I wanted Hermione to wake, to see her eyes looking up at me so I could finally know she was alright, a piece of me feared that moment more than anything. Because when she woke…everything would become real. And I had no idea what I was going to do about it.
Although Potter needn't know this fact. "I'll deal with it."
He nodded and dropped the subject. As he stood to leave I stopped him.
"Can I ask you one question?"
"Sure."
"How good is she at holding grudges?"
...
Hermione woke just before noon, mewling like a kitten. I jumped up from where I'd been slouched in a chair next to her in a near-comatose state for more than an hour after Mrs. Weasley had forced me to take a shower and eat breakfast. As she slowly roused, I settled on the side of her bed and watched her blink confusedly in the weak February light that streamed in from the high windows. She looked around for a moment then made to sit up.
"No, it's best you stay down," I said, easing her back, noting my once-more trembling hands. She looked up at me and her eyes widened.
"Draco."
Her voice was barely above a whisper but it shot through me like a lance. Her tone was clear as day: she had not expected me to be sitting here. My chest twisted with understanding. Of course she would be shocked. I had been nothing but resentful and cold towards her, besides the very few instances I'd had her in my arms. She had no reason to believe I cared for her at all. But it didn't matter now; I could easily spend the rest of my life showing her, if that was what it took.
For I'd realized while watching the anguish-filled faces of those who'd lost loved ones that there was nothing in this world that would keep me from Hermione now. We'd made it through years of disparity, my own abysmal behavior, and even a war. I loved her more fiercely with every passing moment and though I was more terrified at the prospect of nothing standing between us than I had ever been of my father's rage, I knew that I couldn't live without her. I wouldn't let her fall through my fingers, not after everything I had done to get us here to this very moment. She was mine, whether she liked it or not.
"How are you?" I finally asked. She furrowed her brow confusedly.
"I'm not sure," she answered quietly, raising a weak hand to rub her eye. She was silent for a few moments and I racked my brain for something to say, but my nerves had cleanly wiped my brain of any rational thought. She looked up at me suddenly, her eyes accusatory. "What are you doing here?"
Straight to the chase, then.
"I didn't want you to wake up alone," I answered truthfully. If I was honest with myself I was simply pleased to have said anything at all sensible. How could I be so scared of a person so small? But I was petrified of her, of the fact that she possessed the ability to wound me more thoroughly than the Dark Lord ever had. And the fact that I couldn't blame her if she did.
Her face was guarded as she nodded. "That was very thoughtful of you."
In a sudden burst of courage, I reached for her hand, still stained with blood, and wrapped it in both of mine. It was so small…how could it wield such power? How could she hold my heart in that tiny appendage?
"Hermione," I started. I hadn't realized how hard this would be, how difficult it would be to get the words from my heart to my brain to my mouth. Couldn't I just have another go with the Dark Lord and call it good? Looking at the beautiful woman before me, covered in blood, bruised and beaten, tired and weak…she scared me more than those scarlet eyes ever had. I sucked in a breath and looked deep into her eyes.
And panicked.
"I'm glad you're alright," I stammered hurriedly, mentally kicking myself.
"Oh." She still looked confused and glanced around. Then she gasped wildly and pushed herself up, wincing.
"You really shouldn't be up-" I worried, my hands going to help her when she swayed.
"Draco, you, the Horcrux," she panted, grasping her wound, all color falling from her face as realization dawned. "Are you-? And Harry? What happened?"
"Er, hang on. Potter!" I called out. I definitely was not explaining everything on my own. He looked up and excused himself from Weasley, who had suffered a run-in with Fenrir Greyback, apparently in an attempt to avenge his eldest brother, to jog up to me. I met him at the foot of her bed.
"She's awake?" he asked as a greeting.
"And wanting answers."
"Sounds like her. Does she remember anything from last night?"
"Er…I don't know, I didn't really say anything. I thought it would be best if you explained things to her," I stated lamely. Coward.
Potter looked at me curiously. "What did you say to her?"
I dug my hands into the pockets of my robes and shifted guiltily. "Nothing much."
"Right…" he said, obviously working hard on not prying. "Well, I'll take over from here, then. Remus is looking for you in the Great Hall."
"Right."
"Right."
We stood there awkwardly again and with one last glance at a frantic Hermione, I strode past him feeling more foolish than ever.
I made my way through the school, which was in various states of repair, and entered the disheveled Great Hall. The graying werewolf was leaning his hands on the only table that had been mended, the rest lying in shards around the hall as several witches and wizards moved about, restoring the room. He and several others were talking lowly; compiling what looked to be a rather long list.
"Er, Professor Lupin?" I asked nervously, not wanting to interrupt him. Everyone at the table looked up at me and I had the feeling I was being scrutinized very meticulously.
"I haven't been your professor for four years, Draco," he said kindly, standing and passing the parchment to the witch next to him. "Call me Remus." He turned to Tonks and kissed her cheek. "We'll finish this when I get back." She nodded and I noticed she was crying. In fact, every person around the table was either dabbing at streaming faces with handkerchiefs or else had red-rimmed eyes from fighting back tears. Remus nodded at me to follow and he limped out onto the grounds.
He looked rather the worse for wear, his robes more torn than ever, a bandage just visible at the crux of his left shoulder and neck. The sun was straining through some rather bleak looking clouds, throwing the dark circles under his eyes into deep contrast. The scene before me fared no better.
The devastations of war were evident across the grounds. The once pristine snow was packed and muddied, blood soaking through much of it, stone and debris littered back to the Quidditch pitch which had been demolished by one of the rampaging giants. Hogsmead was in ruins and I hadn't even been aware the battle had spilled into the tiny village.
The forest was also looking rather worn; trees ripped from the ground, crushed, several parts smoldering slightly. I could see the now one-armed Weasley and a couple dozen others tending to wounded dragons in an erected paddock close to the lake. Hagrid was tugging his belongings from the still-slightly smoking hut while centaurs weaved in and out of trees, clearing the forest of the fallen. One giant was still on the grounds and rounded the school, his arms full of broken castle wall, creating a pile. I watched him wearily, wondering why no one had seized this rogue brute yet until Lupin spoke.
"That is Hagrid's half-brother," he explained, noticing where my gaze was trained. "I don't know what we would have done without him last night."
I nodded. Apparently, I had entered a world where they not only made friends with half-breeds, but magical creatures as well. Did these people not know how volatile giants could be?
As if he could hear my thoughts Lupin chuckled. "I assure you, Hagrid has him very well-mannered. He's speaking in full sentences now. Well, almost full."
"Wait, he speaks English?" I asked incredulously.
"He does indeed."
Nothing more was said on the subject as we gazed around the devastated grounds.
"I can't imagine what it cost you to do what you did," he finally said in a quiet voice. "Dumbledore told us numerous times not to underestimate you, and I am sorry to say I believe we all did. Well," he smiled. "Perhaps not Hermione. She does have a knack for seeing what others do not, doesn't she?"
I didn't have anything to say. I doubted whether anyone in this world would really understand what went on behind those chocolate eyes of hers. Not even me.
"Draco, none of this would have been possible without you. You understand that, don't you?" Lupin turned to me and looked at me seriously. "I can't begin to fathom Voldemort's methods of persuasion. I can imagine that they are most compelling, however."
My jaw clenched as I remembered my personal battle in the headmistress' office. Yes, they were.
"I can only tell you how very thankful the rest of us are that you were strong enough not to give in. You are stronger by far than most. I doubt many could have held him off as you did for all these months."
I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. Lupin must have realized my discomfort and continued.
"Harry told me some of what happened in the headmistress' office. I am not sure you are even aware of this, Draco, but your struggle with the Dark Lord did not turn out so well for you in the beginning."
"Sir?" I questioned, confused.
"Remus. What I am trying to say is that not long into your attempt to dispose of the Horcrux…you died."
I stared at him incredulously. "I beg your pardon?" I asked, looking down at myself. "I wasn't aware that I was a ghost."
Lupin chuckled. "Not, you are most definitely alive. But how remains to be the question."
"Are you sure Potter didn't just think I was dead?" I asked, not wanting to sound rude, but, "Chosen One" or not, Potter had never been the brightest candle in the chandelier. "Maybe I just passed out?"
"No, he claims both he and Hermione checked. You were most assuredly deceased."
I was at something of a loss for words. I stammered several times before I was able to utter a coherent thought. "But sir, Remus, people don't just come back to life."
"No," he sighed. "Indeed, they do not. But it seems to me that you and Harry have much more in common than you think. You see, you were not the only one Voldemort made into a Horcrux. However, we do not believe Voldemort knew Harry was one. Otherwise creating you would have been unnecessary, wouldn't it?"
I gaped. "Potter was a Horcrux?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't he-how couldn't he have told me that? And how did he get rid of it?"
"He was not aware of the fact until last night. Voldemort destroyed the Horcrux when he killed Harry. A bit like adding insult to injury as Harry did not remain dead either," Remus smiled.
We were quiet once more, the cold wind biting at my exposed skin. It was hard to comprehend everything that had happened. According to Potter I had died last night, and yet I was most certainly alive now. Potter had been a Horcrux. He'd sacrificed himself, died, and yet was most assuredly still breathing as well. Hermione was alive and supposedly in love with me. The Dark Lord was gone. He was gone, completely, thanks to Potter. He wasn't coming back. The war was over, the good guys had won. Everything was how it should be, the world was right once more.
But where did that leave me? What was my next step? It felt wrong to be standing amongst the rubble as one of the victors with the stain of my betrayal branded on my forearm.
"Remus, I will not put up a fight if you wish to take me to Azkaban," I said seriously. "Merlin knows it's where I belong."
"Where you belong?" Lupin cried disbelievingly. "Draco, without your assistance, without your sacrifice, none of us would be standing here, of that I am most certain. Draco, do you understand that if you had given into him, there would have been essentially two Dark Lords and none of us would be standing here now?"
"I am well aware," I snapped curtly. "And I am also aware that had I chosen the correct side from the beginning this never would have happened at all."
"I do not believe for a moment that is true," Lupin said sternly. "He simply would have chosen another, one who would have bent to his will much more easily. And then, Draco, where would we be?"
I thought about this terrifying possibility for a long moment. It was true, if the Dark Lord hadn't chosen me, who would he have picked for his last Horcrux? Not Snape, no Snape would have always been the sacrifice. It would have been someone all too eager to take what the Dark Lord offered. Aunt Bella would have been a worthy candidate. I shuddered at the thought.
"We will not be taking you to Azkaban," Lupin finally stated. "In fact, one of the reasons I wished to speak to you was to discuss where you would like to go from here. We will be re-opening the school as soon as possible, Minerva is hoping restorations will be finished in a fortnight. Would you like to return to finish your N.E.W.T's?"
It felt as though I'd been dealt a particularly harsh blow from some of the fallen mortar. "Return…here? To school?"
"It was an idea. You are not required; any student who fought last night is given the choice. Those who choose not to finish attending will, of course, be given an Outstanding in every subject for their assistance. I can guarantee Hermione will be staying, however."
He wasn't looking at me but I could see a slightly mischievous glint in his eye. I cleared my throat, wondering just how many of these people had realized my feelings towards Hermione. It appeared I had been much more obvious than I'd anticipated.
I pondered for a moment, but my mind didn't seem to work. I couldn't think of an answer, so I stuck with noncommitment. "I'll think about it. I suppose I hadn't really given much thought to the future."
"No, I don't suppose you did. But many doors are open to you now, Draco. I will be more than happy to assist you with whatever you wish to pursue, although if it has anything to do with the Ministry you may want to speak with Kingsley, I'm afraid I still don't hold much clout there," he smiled grimly.
I stared at him for a moment, perplexed. "Why are you doing all this for me? After all the pain my family has caused you all-"
"You are not your family, Draco," Lupin said firmly, turning and placing his hands on my shoulders, looking at me, his eyes warm and almost…fatherly. And even though I was a few inches taller than he, I suddenly felt very small. Very small and very alone. "You are your own man. You have made some tremendously difficult choices in your young life. If you feel you chose the wrong ones in the beginning, you have more than made up for those now. You did what was right when it mattered most. You were willing to give your life to save us all. That, in my humble opinion, deserves a great amount of respect. You have mine, and I would like to assist you in continuing your life to the very best of your ability. Please, do not hesitate to ask for anything. I cannot imagine you have had very many good examples to learn by."
"I had Snape," I replied, swallowing. The memory of his wasted life was still painful. "And Dumbledore. I should have trusted Dumbledore."
"Yes, well," Lupin smiled meekly. "You are not the only one. I believe we have all been guilty of doubting his rather eccentric methods at some point. But that is neither here nor there. What is important is that whether by good example or not, you did an extremely heroic and selfless thing by destroying that Horcrux. Your sacrifice will not be soon forgotten."
Lupin straightened and gave the grounds a sweeping surveillance. "You have plenty of time for decisions. For now, you should rest. But before you go, I must burden you once more." When he looked at me his lips were thin, his gaze apologetic. "I regret to inform you that your mother was found amongst the rubble of the Charms corridor. I am very sorry to say that she did not survive the attack."
My stomach bottomed out. What in the world had she been doing up there?
"One of the giants destroyed that entire side," Lupin explained lowly. "There were several casualties from that particular attack. We have placed her body with the rest of our fallen."
"Are the Death Eaters' bodies separated from the Order's?" I asked hollowly.
"Yes."
"Then put her with the Death Eaters."
Lupin nodded once and said nothing about my harsh request. I didn't care what he thought; it wasn't right for her to be among the fallen heroes. She was no hero. She had been spineless, unquestioning. She had been just as guilty as the rest of them.
But still, she had been my mother. Her death rested upon me much heavier than my father's had. My mother had loved me, at least. She had begged Snape to protect me, forced him to take the Unbreakable Vow to be ensure my safety. She had sent me care packages from home every week while I was at school. She had secretly tucked me into bed when I was little, reading me Tales of Beedle the Bard while my father was preoccupied. When I was younger she had stood up for me, but that had stopped at five when she was tired of being smacked around on my behalf. From that moment on she had lost my respect. She had stopped caring, allowed my father to run our family straight into the ground. Not until he was locked away in Azkaban had she built up the nerve to execute one last desperate bid to save her son.
"I'm sorry," Lupin said, breaking into my morbid thoughts. "Truly, I am."
"Don't be," I said gruffly. "She doesn't deserve your pity."
"Would you like to request a final resting ground for her?" he asked. I knew my father's body had been burned at the demolition of headquarters, but it was an odd feeling being in charge of a body…my mother's body…
"No," I finally said. "Just wherever you put the rest of the scum is fine."
I didn't care if he thought I was heartless. It was no more than she deserved. She came with them, she could lay with them.
"Is there…is there anything else?" I asked Lupin. Suddenly, I just wanted to be alone. He shook his head.
"No. The house elves are preparing a feast tonight. Will you join us in the Great Hall?"
"No, I think I need some time alone," I said. Then I realized I had sounded rude. "Thank you for the invitation, though."
I took my leave when he said nothing more. I wasn't exactly familiar with this whole "sharing your feelings" thing and decided I much preferred dealing with emotions alone. When I got into the school, however, I realized I had nowhere to go. I didn't want to interrupt Hermione; I knew Potter was filling her in with everything that had happened, but neither did I feel I belonged in the Great Hall with all of the Order. I didn't have a bed nor did I know the password to the Slytherin common room…and besides I really didn't feel like I belonged there anymore, either.
Just standing in this school felt like something from a completely different life, a different me. I couldn't see myself returning here. I understood the importance of a good education, but the thought of living within these walls, sleeping under the roof where I had unleashed a horde of Death Eaters on innocent children…how could I? I felt so detached from all of this. I felt so much older than I was, as if the last year had been a decade. Everything that had happened in just a few short months had changed me, it had changed the world. Nothing was the same.
But if I didn't come back here…where would I go? With my father and my mother gone I was now the sole possessor of our estates…and I had no idea what to do with them. Why hadn't I ever asked my father what would happen when I took charge? I had always figured it would happen when I was older; I had so much time to learn it all, to do what I wanted…responsibility would come later. Much, much later.
All of a sudden that time was now. And I was so completely lost.
"Malfoy?"
I looked around at the sound of the voice. The youngest Weasley was poking her head out of the doors of the Great Hall. I realized I was standing stationary staring up the newly repaired marble staircase, fixed so that no one would even know by looking at it what had taken place only hours ago. She joined me, standing close enough that I could smell her flowery perfume.
"It's like nothing ever happened, isn't it?" she said, voicing my very thoughts. I nodded. It was. Each stair was as pristine as usual: not a speck of dust, of blood, of any sign at all of the horrors which had occurred right there. How many lives had been lost on those steps? How many children had clambered up and down them, to lessons, to bed, to dinner, to their futures? What had this hall seen?
It had once seen a pompous child, flanked by his cronies, strutting around with an air of assumed authority. It had seen that same despicable character transformed into an ivory ferret and bounced around by a man who was gone now. And it had seen a lone boy slinking from the dungeons toward the Room of Requirement, his eyes red rimmed, friendless but for a pathetic ghost. Where was Myrtle now? In her toilet? Haunting the pipes?
"Are you alright?" Ginny asked, breaking into my wonderings. I turned to her and she shrugged. "I'm sorry, I just don't really know what to say, I guess." She answered nervously to my stare. "I suppose I want to thank you."
"For what?" I scoffed, starting up the refurbished staircase. I didn't know where I would go, but I didn't want to stand here anymore.
"For saving my life."
"No problem."
"You can't pretend that it was nothing, Malfoy," she said sternly. She sounded like her mother. "You fought with us. You saved me and Neville and countless others. You died for us. You helped take care of the injured after the battle. With your help, he's gone. You can't just pretend that is nothing."
"Compared to what I've done to hurt you all?" I snapped scathingly. "It is nothing."
"That's not true!" she cried indignantly, struggling to keep up with my pace. "Look, I heard about your mum…I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter," I said, ducking down another hallway in an attempt to shake the redhead. But the stubborn chit grabbed my elbow and I turned, about to tell her off, before she started in again.
"It's hard trying not to care, isn't it?" she murmured. She suddenly looked older, wise… What did she know?
It was then that it struck me. She did know. Hadn't she been the one the Dark Lord's Horcrux had worked through to open the Chamber? And she'd only been a child, just into Hogwarts…
"You feel dirty, don't you? Tainted," she whispered. I nodded. It was exactly how I felt. "Like you shouldn't be around other people in case you contaminate them?" I really wished she'd stop talking. "You can't shut everyone out, Malfoy. You need your friends."
And then she did something so unexpected I started. She took my hand. But her big brown eyes were so full of understanding and concern I couldn't find it in myself to pull away.
"I don't expect anyone to forgive me," I murmured. "I'm not under any delusions that we'll all be great mates or anything."
"If you want to be with my best friend you better start deluding yourself," the Weaslette said, a smile lighting her freckled face.
"How do you-?"
"Best friend, remember?" she chuckled. "You have a lot to learn, ferret."
"Better ferret than weasel."
She slapped my arm playfully and then wove hers through mine. "Shall we?"
Bemused, I shook my head at her antics and silently wished Potter luck with the complicated girl.
She led me to the hospital wing which was buzzing with movement and muted voices, slapping feet as volunteers hurried to retrieve potions or blankets for the harried nurse. A couple of Healers had come in from St. Mungo's to assist and preparations were being made to transfer several patients to the hospital. Ginny and I shuffled out of the way of a stretcher being Levitated by none other than the Minister himself.
"Oh, Mr. Malfoy," he said in a deep, velvety voice. "Might I ask you to join Mr. Potter and myself at the ministry tomorrow night?"
"Sir?"
"Eight o'clock sharp."
I watched him disappear out of the room, Katie Bell following with another stretcher. My breath caught as she passed but she flashed me a smile and I let go of that breath. Either she had no idea who had given her that necklace last year or she had forgiven me. I preferred to believe she didn't know at all.
"What was that all about?" Ginny asked and I was reminded of the Minister's request.
"No clue. Ask your boyfriend."
"Oi! Boyfriend!" she yelled across the room. Several people shushed her but she just rolled her eyes and pushed through the swarm of activity to Hermione's bed. "Why does Kingsley want you and Malfoy to go to the ministry tomorrow night?"
"No idea," he said, rising from his seat next to Hermione who was dabbing her eyes. He gave Ginny a kiss then said lowly. "I just told her about Moody."
"And Dean?" Ginny asked, her voice breaking. Harry nodded and enveloped her in his embrace. "Have you heard about Fred?"
"Healer Pye said he'll be just fine. He isn't talking in any language we understand, but his vitals are good," Harry answered. Ginny nodded into his chest. "And Percy was walking around earlier. Said his head still hurts but he's doing alright. Bill stopped by to see Hermione a few minutes ago. The bleeding's stopped, so he should be fine."
"Yeah, and dad took mum home about an hour ago," Ginny informed him. "She was still crying about Charlie's arm, but he doesn't seem to be too bothered about. It's a good thing he's left handed."
It hit me suddenly that all these people, the lost, the injured…everyone else around them cared. They weren't ridiculed for being thwarted by a bunch of teenagers or punished for getting hurt in the first place. They didn't have to sneak off to some shady Healer in Knockturn Alley if their wounds were too severe to deal with alone. These people were taken care of, and they were all genuinely concerned about each other's welfare. They were saddened over the loss of life, not just loss of manpower.
These people loved.
I turned to Hermione and thought about how close I had been to losing her, how close I had been to not being here at all. While Potter and Ginny continued in low voices I took the seat Potter had vacated. Hermione opened her eyes wearily and she smiled, reaching out a now-clean hand. Someone must have washed her, for all the blood was gone and her hair was wet, curling around her, the sheets a clean white. She was so beautiful…
"How are you?" she asked as I took her hand, twining my fingers between hers, liking the way it looked.
"Me?" I asked, taken aback. "I'm fine."
"Are you really?"
I tried to say something, anything, to describe how I felt, but she simply squeezed my hand in understanding. Who was I kidding? She already knew.
And abruptly I was overwhelmed, weighed down by the number of emotional blows received in such a short amount of time. Evidently it showed in my face because with tears in her eyes, Hermione tugged at my hand and I went with it, enfolding her in my embrace. She pulled my head to her breast and held me while I listened to her heartbeat, the sound comforting. A curtain was silently hoisted around the bed and Potter and Ginny were gone and it was just me and Hermione and everything that was between us and everything that wasn't and I clung to her and shook and allowed myself to feel, to hurt. It was all because of this woman that I felt anything at all and I was so grateful, so utterly grateful and angry and frustrated and tired…I was so tired…
"I'm sorry," I muttered. It was all I could say. I hated everything I had done and longed to tear my heart out of the shadows of regret and give it to her, because it was the only place it belonged. I wished I could fix everything that I'd done, but I couldn't. The only thing I could do was throw myself at her feet and hope that she would understand that everything I did was for her.
"Draco," she whispered, just my name. I loved the way it sounded coming from her lips. I looked up into her eyes and it was written all over her face, that absolution, that understanding. "I love you. You don't have to face the world alone." She reached her hand forward and cupped my cheek, an endearing action which tore at my heartstrings. How could I have ever doubted that she would know exactly what I was feeling, doubted whether she would forgive me?
So eternally grateful for my angel of mercy, I leaned forward and kissed her, slowly, lovingly, pouring every devastating emotion into her, allowing her to heal me. She kissed me back, taking everything I had, her taste ripping through my numb body and stirring my senses as only she could. One innocent touch of her tongue against mine had my head reeling and I was quickly forgetting why I had ever thought I could live without her.
Before I did something I regretted, I pulled away and looked into her brown eyes so full of trust and hope and deeply suppressed pain. I knew her physical wounds would mend much faster than the emotional ones, both from me and the heartache of lost loved ones, the numbers of which I could only guess at. Only time would heal the pain…for both of us.
It was then I realized that it was time we needed. She needed someone who could take care of her, someone who could be there for her in every way, no reservations, nothing held back. And I knew I couldn't do that. Not yet. If I was to give her what she needed, what she deserved, I had to fix myself first, the beginnings of which I was at a complete loss. But until then, until I could be whole once more, I would only continue to hurt her. I couldn't do that to her, not again. Not anymore. She needed more. I had to be more.
I knew she could see the indecision in my eyes, it was written all over her face. She sighed and looked down at her hands twisting on the bed sheets and suddenly I felt the urge to run, to get as far from this place as possible. I wanted to say something, to tell her, to make her understand, but the words stuck in my throat. Just being near her was shredding my resolve and I knew I had to be strong.
Soaking in the sight of her one last time I tore from the room, shoving others aside, the sound of my name ringing in my ears just like they had last night, the pain behind the words tugging at my resolution.
What was I doing? How could I do this to her again? How could I rip her heart out without an explanation?
I knew the answer to this question. I was running, like I always did. But this time was different and I understood. I was running away, yes, but not for my sake. For hers. The reason didn't matter, not now. Someday she would know, I would make her understand…someday…
"MALFOY!"
This voice stopped me, the utter authority in it slowed my feet and I turned to see Potter pounding toward me, wand drawn, his face a mask of fury.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he screamed. "I thought I made myself very clear that she wasn't to be hurt again!"
"Don't you see, Potter?" I answered dejectedly. "That's exactly what I'm trying to prevent. I'm no good. You know that, she knows that. And so do I. I can only bring her pain. I'm so fucked up…I can't give her what she deserves. Not yet." I paced the hall, my hands clenching in heartache and anger. I needed someone to understand… "We're such different people going in such different directions…I can't do this to her, I can't take her future from her. I'm a Malfoy. Do you understand what that name is going to mean on this side of the war? Do you understand what I'm going to be? Nothing, Potter. Nothing at all. But Hermione…you know as well as I that she is going to make something of her life, she's going to be somebody. She's going to go out into the world and make it better. I have nothing to give her, nothing to my name but grief and unpaid debts. She's going to hurt for a while maybe and I'm sorry for that. But a few months is better than a lifetime of unhappiness. I can save her from that. It's the best I can give her."
His eyes were radiating fire, his hands fisted at his sides and I knew he was restraining himself. A part of me wished he wouldn't, a part of me wished he would tear into me, to make my exterior match the battered interior.
"I understand where you are coming from," he finally said in a carefully controlled voice. "But hear me out before you make any decisions." Reluctantly, and only because it was, well, Potter, I gave a curt nod of acceptance. "You are more than this, Malfoy. Things are hard, perhaps more than I understand. But someday you are going to figure your shit out and you're going to realize that you are walking out on the best thing that ever happened to you. She won't run after you. She'll let you go, no matter how much it hurts her to do so, because that's the way she is. If this is what you want, she'll give it to you. But I am telling you right now, Malfoy. This is not it. She is what you want. If you can't figure that out, you don't deserve her. So figure your shit out. Because she needs someone who can give themselves fully. Do you understand me?"
My teeth were clenched so tight I feared they might shatter, my arms crossed so rigidly my hands were growing numb. I nodded. I knew what he was saying. I knew what I needed to do.
"Watch after her, will you?"
He eyed me. "Until you come back."
I said nothing to this but met his eyes for a poignant moment longer. Then turned on my expensive heel and walked calmly down the stairs, through the school, across the grounds and into Hogsmead. Then, without a single glance back, I Apparated from the spot and began rebuilding my life.

...

XOXO
RynStar15
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