Draco/Hermione fic: A Reason chapters 17&18
A Reason update
Chapters 17&18
Chapter 17: Do You Hear My Heart Beating?
Author: Hafthand (Ally)
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Fred goes to war.
A/N: This was a very difficult chapter to write, as you will all see, but it is very dear to me. I hope you like it, in as much as anyone can like this chapter.
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His lean frame was pressed tightly against the cold, stone wall behind him. He tilted his head slightly to the side, trying to get a view of the dank hallway behind him. Nothing. “Fuck,” he swore under his breath. He heard a crash in the distance and said, “Double fuck.”
Fred Weasley was the joke king. He and his brother were the laughs. But he was also one of Dumbledore’s best agents. No one knew and that was the point. So here he was, facing a fate he knew had been coming. He knew he was dead already. At the end of this run he would be struck down; he had seen it. But he had a mission to do, and before he gave into the darkness, he would damn well complete it. He may have skived off of many things in his life, but there was still honour in him, and he would die honourably. He would die by their hands, yes, but on his terms.
He knew when he had walked in on Malfoy and Remus earlier that evening that they would be leading him to his doom, and he had accepted with a smile and a laugh. He took a deep breath and turned his body around before sprinting down the hallway and throwing himself into the wooden door before him. As he burst through, he came to a halt and for a moment the sight before him took him aback. A full-blown battle was taking place. At some point the others had shown up. “Fuck,” Fred whispered. How did it come to this?
Flashback
Fred walked casually down the massive hall munching on the lemon drops Dumbledore had cheerily given him and trying to picture a five-year old Draco Malfoy growing up in such a place. For all its grandeur and richness, Fred realized he would never trade his childhood in the Burrow if it meant living here. It was big all right, too big. You felt like a stranger within the Manor’s cold, never-ending halls.
It was even emptier now than it had been a few hours earlier. After the meeting with Dumbledore, both Malfoy and Harry had fled. Where to, Fred hadn’t the foggiest. Hermione had disappeared to her room and Snape and Lupin had walked in opposite directions.
The barren stone hallways made him yearn for escape also. He was very tempted to go back to the Burrow. His heart ached to see George. It had been too long. Ginny had been away so much lately with her job that Fred felt as though his baby sister was a stranger. Bill and Charlie had always been away as he was growing up, whether at school or work, yet he missed their strong and calming presence. Percy, well Percy was Percy, but he was still blood. As for Ron, Fred wished he hadn’t stayed away after leaving to deliver his message to Dumbledore two days ago. Next too George, Fred was closest to Ron and realized having his younger brother here to pick on would have been a great distraction, but he could see why Ron would stay away. A person could only handle so much of Malfoy, Harry, Remus, and Snape at the same time.
Fred shook his head as he rounded yet another corner and froze as he heard hushed voices from within the room to his left.
“Draco, it’s suicide, you know this,” Lupin’s calm, soothing voice said from beyond the doorway.
“Yeah well at the moment I am feelin’ suicidal,” Malfoy’s voice countered. He sounded weary and resigned; resigned to a fate he was trying to avoid. Fred could relate. For too long he had been dreading the arrival of Mister Malfoy. Malfoy’s rebirth would mean Fred’s death. He would have to be crazy to be looking forward to that.
“You may want to court death this night Draco, but what makes you think I wish to?” Lupin asked, and from the noise in the room it seemed as though he was moving around, possibly pacing.
“Men like you and me always court Death, Remus. To men like us she is something we will always dance around before giving in,” Draco said solemnly. For a moment all was silent and Fred leaned forward a bit. He heard Malfoy sigh before continuing. “What do we have to lose?” Malfoy asked.
“Too much,” Lupin said softly. A silence heavier than before descended and Fred could imagine both men were making a list in their minds of what was important in their lives. Fred imagined both lists would be very short.
“We have more to lose if we sit and do nothing. We don’t have a choice Remus. We can sit and wait for them to find us, killing us all in our beds or we can bring the fight to them. Since when do we stand back and let others rule our lives?” Malfoy said, his voice rising slightly in volume yet remaining even.
“Dumbledore would not approve,” Lupin said.
“Dumbledore! Ha, the old man has been letting Potter fight battles on his own since the guy was eleven. I think Dumbledore sanity and rationale is highly questionable,” Draco said, his voicing returning to its cold, normal tone.
“Don’t speak so of Dumbledore, Draco. He is far saner than any of us give him credit for. What he does is with the world’s best interest in mind, never forget that,” Lupin said. A short pause followed before Lupin continued. “But I do agree with you on one thing Draco. I will not sit back knowing what we know. If we don’t do something now, too many others will get involved and too many others will die. There is precious little left in this world that I treasure,” Lupin said and breathed out heavily. “But I refuse to sit back and let it be taken from me. I did that once, and I will not do it again,” he said, his voice powerful with memory and vengeance.
Fred did not have to be Hermione Granger to work out what Lupin was referring too. Fred had often seen a look in the werewolf’s eyes when he watched Harry. Fred knew that Lupin felt responsible, in some part, for James and Lily’s deaths. They had thought he had been the spy and had trusted Pettigrew instead. Fred shook his head in pity. What that must be like, to live on after all others you have loved have died? What must it be like to have a reminder of the days gone by reflected back to you in the form of your best friend’s son? What must it be like to be alone in a world that hated what you were?
Fred had always held the highest respect for Lupin. But as he sat listening to Malfoy and his former Professor talk, Fred Weasley realized he wouldn’t mind adding Remus to his short list of important people.
Fred was tempted to walk on, or perhaps make his presence known to them, but decided he wished to here more of what they were planning. He wasn’t stupid, he knew they were talking about taking on Death Eater’s, if not Voldermort himself, but he had to be sure. Fred didn’t like not knowing.
“I won’t sit back and let Voldermort destroy her Remus. I can’t,” Draco’s voice suddenly pierced the silence that had fallen. For a moment, Fred was taken aback by the heavy emotion evident in Malfoy’s voice.
“He wants you dead also Draco. Are you so quick to give up your life?” Lupin asked.
“I did it once before,” Draco replied coldly.
“As yes, silly of me to forget,” Lupin said softly.
“Wish I could,” Draco whispered so low that Fred strained to hear.
“Isn’t it enough that she did?” Lupin asked carefully. Fred was becoming slightly confused. The she they were talking about had to be Hermione, but as for the rest, the meaning was lost to him.
“Well then. If we are decided I don’t think we should wait. Dumbledore practically handed me their location on a platter. I think he realized I would take the bait,” Draco said in a rush. Fred began to sense a steel determination from the next room tinged only slightly with fear.
“I think we are not enough for this mission Draco,” Lupin said slowly.
“Bringing Potter would ruin it, and I will not have Snape revealing himself just to help us,” Draco stated firmly.
“I had someone else in mind. Someone a bit subtler. Perhaps we should consider asking Fred to join our crusade,” Lupin said. Fred’s breathing stopped at the sound of his name. He knew. Right then and there he knew it had finally come, his doom. Everything that had been happening up to now was leading to only one possible end. Fred knew he could not say no. Even though he new he would not make it out of the battle they were proposing, he would not be labeled a coward. He would not sit back at let someone else fight for the lives of those he loved.
“Fred Weasley and subtle in the same sentence? Are you mad Remus?” Draco asked.
“Perhaps a bit, but a lot has changed since you’ve been gone Draco. There is more to Fred then I think anyone really knows,” Lupin answered. Had the conversation been a different one, in a different place, Fred would have glowed with pride. Unfortunately, times were as they were.
“Do you think he would be willing to put his life on the line? He has a lot more to lose than we do,” Draco said.
Fred decided it was past time for him to make an appearance. He did so love an entrance. He pushed the door aside and strolled casually into the room saying, “Well the only way to know for sure would be to ask him, don’t you think?”
The looks on their faces were enough to make Fred smile widely. “So I hear you need a man of my many talents,” he said rubbing his hands together. Lupin stood frozen in his spot by the window. His arms hung limply next to his tattered robes. Malfoy was very still in his place against the wall on the opposite room, his arms crossed in front of him. Both men looked as if they had been caught stealing their mother’s freshly baked pie.
“How long were you standing out there,” Malfoy asked quickly.
“Long enough to hear what needed hearing,” Fred said, his voice even and strong, all sign of laughter gone. His eyes leveled with Malfoy’s and for the first time the two really looked at each other. The silver haired demon nodded his head slightly and turned back to Lupin.
Lupin took a step forward and narrowed his eyes slightly. “Fred, I wouldn’t normally ask you to do this, but we need help if we have any chance of succeeding. Even so, we could all lose our lives if this goes wrong,” Lupin said, his eyes shining with intensity.
Fred leaned casually against the wall next to him. “I’d be a fool to let the two of you waltz off to be heroes, or more likely martyrs, and not get a piece of the action. Whatever it is you two are planning, and I have some thoughts on what that might be, you can be sure I will be there,” Fred said, his voice containing no mirth, his eyes blazing with his sincerity. “Besides, we’re all meant to die sometime right? Why not go down in a blaze of glory huh?” Fred said somewhat lightly.
“Just as long as you know the risks,” Malfoy said.
“Fuck the risks Malfoy. Why should the two of you be the only ones who get to fight for the ones you love?” Fred asked, his eyes boring holes into Malfoy’s. “Voldermort is after you Ferret, but for some reason he has decided to add our lovely Miss Granger to the mix. You’d rather die then see her get hurt again. You risked your life before and it held them off for a little while. Now they want blood. You’re not the only one who loves her Malfoy. I’d rather die then see her cry again,” Fred said, finally drawing a deep breath, his eyes daring Malfoy to challenge him.
Lupin stood to the side, quietly watching the two. After a moment of deadly silence Malfoy pushed away from the wall and walked towards Fred. Slowly he stuck out his hand. Fred looked once more into Draco’s Malfoy’s icy eyes before grasping his hand firmly.
“Well then, shall we enlighten Mister Weasley here on our situation?” Lupin spoke up as he walked forward towards them.
“Yes I think that would be for the best. But first, I want to know everything Malfoy, the whole bloody truth. I will march to my death next to you knowing why. I want to hear it from your mouth, everything about the last five years. After that, we’ll go kill the bastard who has made our life a living hell. They may even write a book about us,” Fred said, a smile that did not reach his eyes appearing on his face.
And just like that, Malfoy started talking, with occasional input from Lupin. Fred’s face fell as all was revealed to him. He had had a general idea of what had transpired of course, but parts of the story still shocked him. It also had the effect of cementing him to their cause. Fred would gladly die fighting beside a Malfoy and a werewolf, for he knew no other option lay before him. But first, they needed to find Snape and wring some information out of his bony body.
End Flashback
And so they had waltzed into the fortress of evil knowing they might possibly never walk back out. They had separated and each gone a prearranged way. The plan had been to meet up in the central chamber room where, Dumbledore had informed Malfoy, Voldermort would be waiting. But as Fred burst through into the room it was apparent that something must have gone wrong. There were too many people who shouldn’t be here, fighting for their lives.
A cold fear gripped his insides. He had not seen this. There were too many risks now, even more than there had been earlier. A great flash of yellow light lit up the room. Everything slowed down. The people, the spells, the action, time itself. Fred watched as the people he loved battled around him. He heard Hermione call out for Malfoy, and heard Malfoy scream a warning to Hermione. He watched Harry stumble under the force of an unknown spell and watched as Snape ran to stand over The-Boy-Who-Lived and block his body from any more damage. He saw Remus take down Death Eater after Death Eater, never pausing in his path of destruction.
An odd ache began to grow within Fred’s chest as he watched a figure materialize in the doorway across from him. Fred stood frozen for a moment as he watched the person stumble into the room and fall, blood pooling from the silver dagger, a silver dagger Fred knew too well, protruding from their chest onto the floor. Their bound hands twisted oddly behind them.
Fred let out a bellow that echoed straight down to the caverns of Hell itself. Suddenly, everything sped up. Fred ran towards the fallen figure, not caring if he pushed aside friend or foe. His one thought was to reach the body. His one goal was to take that filthy dagger and throw it far, far away.
As he reached the body he fell to his knees and turned the head to look at him. Cold, dead eyes stared up into his. Fred felt the need to vomit. Suddenly silence covered the room and Fred could hear the sound of people running away. Whether it was the good guys or the bad guys fleeing, he didn’t care. Hermione’s scream that pierced the silence a moment later informed him that his friends remained but had finally witnessed what lay in front of him.
Fred gathered the body up in his arms, but remained staring at the lifeless eyes. He couldn’t look away. He couldn’t stop the tears pouring down his face. He couldn’t stop the bellows that shook his body and the tiles on the floor. He couldn’t stop the blood flowing out of his brother’s body. He couldn’t remember if he’d said good-bye.
He reached out and tore the offending dagger from the body and threw it across the room. How and why it came to be here were questions he would think about later; now was not the time.
As Fred sat clutching the body to him, his mind cleared and he had one thought only. How, in all that is holy, was he going to tell his mother that Ron had died? How was he ever going to tell his mother? A rage as hot as the hottest fire began to burn inside Fred Weasley. It was supposed to be his body lying dead on the floor, not Ron’s. He had seen it as clear as day. How could he have been so wrong? He felt his heart threatening to break through his chest. The pain was beyond anything he had ever experienced. “Ron,” he whispered, reaching down and kissing his brother’s forehead, before he gently and lovingly raised his bloody hands up and closed his brother’s eyes forever.
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A/N: Unfortunately it was time for a character to die. How and why Ron died will be revealed later as his murderer will just love to gloat about it, so stay tuned for the truth there. For any of you who were wondering where Ron had indeed got to, well there it is, sorta. Strangely, no one picked up on the fact that I had Ron disappear from the fic a while back! I am really anxious to hear what you all have to say about this one, so let me know. Like I warned you, it is a dark fic and it is going to get darker! But as Dumbledore said in the third movie,
“But you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times.”
Love, Ally
“Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.” -the incomparable Bob Dylan
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Chapter 18: As If You Have A Choice
Summary: Of battles, loss, and running from what you love.
A/N: Wow I am really on a roll with these updates! Let us hope I can keep it up! Anyway, here is where we find out a bit of the battle that took place before Fred walked in. It also deals with a bit of the aftermath of Ron’s death. I hope you enjoy. This chapter is a bit longer and a bit deep in the introspective kind of way.
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Draco had burst into the main chamber room expecting to find anything but what he saw. He watched as Hermione turned towards him, her wand drawn. Her mouth opened in surprise when her eyes met his.
“Draco?” she asked.
“Unless you know someone else this good-looking,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm and haste. “What the bloody hell are you doing here Granger?” he said angrily as he walked towards her. A sudden hand on his arm stopped him and for the first time he noticed others in the room.
“Now, now Malfoy, I was just about to ask you the same thing,” came Potter’s horrible voice to his right. Draco’s eyes widened in confusion as he looked first at Potter then at Snape.
“Fuck,” Draco said aloud, though it was hardly directed at any in the room. He watched as his plans went shooting out the door. The trio’s unexpected arrival was something he, Fred, and Remus had most certainly not planned for. Suddenly, something else hit Draco. Where the hell was Voldermort? Draco pushed Harry away and began to look around the room, his wand drawn. “Where is he?” he asked no one in particular.
Dumbledore had informed Draco that Voldermort would be here in this very place this very evening. Apparently a ‘spy’ had informed Dumbledore that a meeting was to be taking place here. Draco figured what a better way to reconnect with his old ‘friend’ then to pop in and say hello. Unfortunately it looked as though no such meeting was to be taking place. For if it was, the current attendees were well out of place.
Unless…suddenly something else clicked. Since when was the home of Voldermort so lightly guarded? He had made it to this room faster than anticipated and had only come across two other wizards. One he had made easy work of with a quick spell, the other had put up a bit more of a fight and the blood on Malfoy’s knuckles was proof. Something wasn’t right. This was all too easy. His eyes traveled back to the three other persons in the room. A light bulb went off in his head. Maybe it was supposed to be easy.
The Dark Lord had always been good at anticipating other’s actions. Perhaps he had purposely planted the information of a meeting to draw him here tonight. As his eyes once again fell upon Hermione, Draco thought that perhaps the Dark Lord had hoped to draw more than just him out tonight.
His thoughts were interrupted by a door exploding somewhere off to his left. All four turned and had their wands pointed as the source of the explosion stumbled into the room.
Remus stood shocked at the sight before him, blood dripping down his face from several cuts. Draco ran over to the werewolf.
“I see plans have changed. If you were going to invite others to this party Draco, you should have warned me,” Remus said, his voice cold as he noticed Snape, his eyes filled with worry as they passed over Hermione and Harry.
“Seems those aren’t the only plans that have changed. Take a look around,” Draco said, indicating the empty chamber room.
“Would someone please explain what the hell is going on?” Potter practically shouted
Draco watched as realization dawned on Remus Lupin’s face. “Fuck,” escaped the werewolf’s lips before all hell broke loose.
The room was suddenly flooded with Death-Eater’s, spells cast with only a second to dodge them. The four of them burst into action. Draco could only remember one other time that he had fought so hard for his life. The battle was rough and severely outnumbered. There were no less than forty Death-Eaters trying their best to kill or capture the five of them now in the room. As Draco dodged a fairly powerful spell, he wondered briefly where Fred had gotten too. His thoughts were ripped away from the Weasley as a spell brushed against his shoulder, causing a huge gash to open. Draco hissed at the pain and sent and equally powerful curse back at the wizard.
True, they were outnumbered, but then again, look whom Draco had on his side. The-Boy-Who-Wouldn’t-Die, Hermione-I-Know-Everything-Granger, a former professor of the Dark Arts, and Severus Snape, double agent extraordinaire. Needless to say, they held their own. Beads of sweat began to form upon his brow as the battle seemed to pick up a notch. From the corner of his eye he saw Fred come barreling into the room and freeze. He was probably in shock at the battle that was meeting his eyes. Draco heard Hermione scream his name from somewhere in the distance and he whipped his body around in time to duck a blazing orange spell coming his way. He saw Hermione start to run towards him but he frantically warned her off as three Death-Eaters made a charge for him.
Luckily for Draco, Hermione was not the docile type. A nicely aimed stunning spell brought down two while Draco’s own dreamless sleep spell hit the other. He really should be trying to kill them all, as they were trying to kill them, but Draco could not bear to kill while Hermione was watching. Last time that had happened things had gone terribly wrong. So as long as he could get away with harming the Dark wizards as much as was possible, he would be content with that. But he would kill in an instant, if there were no other way.
And as suddenly as the attack had begun, it was over. Draco put his hands on his knees and took in great gulps of air as the remaining Death-Eaters fled the room, taking the bodies of their fallen comrades with them. He felt Hermione place her hand gently on his arm and he turned to look at her, noticing her blood-covered body. He felt the urge to run after those still alive and kill them for harming her. He was stopped however by Hermione’s hand falling from his arm and her scream piercing the room. Only then did he become aware of someone else’s screams. Screams that seemed to rip into his very soul. He turned his head and saw Fred Weasley cradling a very bloody and very dead Ron Weasley.
“Shit,” he whispered. He stood back and watched as Remus and Snape ran to the body, apparently attempting to see if any spark of life remained. Fred refused to relinquish his hold on Ron, making their work awkward. It was, however, short lived as the pool of blood Fred sat in answered the question of whether the youngest Weasley son still lived. Harry seemed to walk in slow motion towards the body, dropping slowly to his knees, his hand reaching towards Ron and then drawing back quickly as though he had been burned. For the first time since Draco Malfoy had met Harry Potter, he pitied him. The look on his face was one of total failure and loss. He was white as a ghost and his eyes had a distant, glossy look to them. Harry Potter, it seemed, had left the building.
But it was the last member of this fucked up psuedo-family that Draco really cared about. He watched as Hermione walked up to Fred, her eyes not looking at Ron, but pleading with Fred to tell her something other than the obvious. Fred, for his part, didn’t notice. His eyes were glued to his brother’s lifeless ones, his tears flowing freely down his freckled face. Draco walked up behind the now still Hermione and gently put his arms around her. She didn’t notice. Instead they all watched silently as Fred leaned over and placed a kiss upon Ron’s forehead, before he tenderly closed his brother’s eyes with his own bloody hands.
Draco felt, rather than heard the sob that escaped from Hermione’s body. He tightened his grip only to have her rip free from it a minute later. She walked a few steps, bent and picked up an object, pocketed it and then walked over to Harry. Draco watched as she knelt beside the Boy Wonder and was enveloped in his embrace. He turned away, unable to handle the sight of the two crying in each other’s embrace. He tried to rationalize that it was their best friend’s body on the floor, but seeing Hermione in Harry’s arms brought bile to his throat.
Snape was walking over to him and Draco suddenly realized that his former Professor’s life had just taken a turn. It would be apparent now as to which side Snape was fighting for. The Death-Eaters who were currently on their way to their master would no doubt inform their lord of Severus’s part in the battle.
“It seems as though your plans were foiled,” Snape said in a muted voice, though still one laced with ice.
“As were yours,” Draco said, with a hint of sympathy. Snape looked at him long and hard before nodding once.
“I always knew the day would come Draco, it was only a matter of when. I could not stand back and allow them to kill any one of you,” Snape paused, his hard voice softening ever so slightly, his head taking in the broken people before them. “I see however that I was not able to save everyone. Alas, we all know the risks of the life we choose to live. I must go Draco. This new development will not go over well. I must inform Dumbledore as soon as possible. Besides,” and again he glanced to the body, “they will have more important things to do for the time being.”
Draco was lost for words. The man before him looked almost defeated and old, and though there was still spite and loathing in his voice, his eyes seemed to have changed completely. Snape noticed Draco staring at him with a look of confusion on his face.
“I am found out Draco. My life, like yours, is now one of running and hiding. The Dark Lord does not take betrayal lightly. It seems as though I am now bound to Dumbledore even more wholly than before. I made a decision long ago Draco, one I think you made also. I will not be a monster. I am a man, not a good one and one with few morals, but I am a man nonetheless. The body of a young innocent man lies on the floor not ten meters away from me and I feel nothing for him. No pain, no sadness; only envy. He has escaped a battle I have been fighting my entire life. There has been precious little that has ever made me smile, but I have lived on fighting for what I thought was right. I daresay Ronald Weasley knew the risks of his decisions in life, just as I know the risks of mine.”
Snape took one last look at the group before him and turned his eyes back on Draco. “I cannot say I understand or agree with your reasons Mr. Malfoy, but they are yours and yours alone. I have watched you grow under the fist of a ruthless, evil, hateful man, and yet I am proud to say you are nothing like him. We have a long way yet before we are free, if any of us will ever really be free from this. Good day, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said. He turned on his heal, his black cloak billowing out behind him as he walked over to Remus. The two bent their heads together for a moment and then Severus was gone, his exit followed by a popping noise that echoed through out the room.
What happened next was a bit of a blur for Draco. But somehow he managed to find himself a part of the solemn procession that followed Ronald Weasley’s body to the home of his youth. They had wrapped his body in cloaks so as to hide his wounds. It was apparent he had been beaten badly, but for how long… They had untied his bound hands and Draco was not ashamed to admit he had almost gotten sick at the sight. Never had he seen wrists rubbed so raw. They had then apparated to the front lawn and now they stood outside of the Weasley’s front door. No one moved. No one had any idea how to proceed.
Draco watched as Fred closed his eyes and breathed in deeply before walking up to his own front door and knocking. Draco waited and watched. Harry stood next to Remus on the right side of Ron’s covered body, while he and Hermione stood to the left. They formed a somewhat sorry looking honour guard around the body. Draco’s eyes shot back to the front door as he saw it open and heard a voice from within. He saw the littlest Weaslette smiling up at her older brother, her eyes having not yet taken in the rest of the party.
“Fred? What are you doing knocking on the door?” she said, her voice almost like the magical tinkling of bells.
Fred leaned down and placed a bloody hand on his younger sisters cheek. “Ginny,” he whispered, his voice cracking, his eyes beginning to shine. “Oh god Ginny,” Fred moaned as he collapsed at his baby sister’s feet, his arms fallen limply in front of him, his eyes averted from Ginny’s as though he was ashamed to look her in the eye. Draco watched as Ginny’s smile disappeared as she stared at her brother.
“Fred?” she asked in confusion.
And then Ginny looked up. Draco have never held much compassion for the Weasley family, but the look in her eyes as she took them all in was enough to undo him. He felt the bile rise to his throat and it took all of his willpower and years of suppressed emotion to not turn and be sick.
As she took in the cloak-covered body she trembled slightly and turned to her brother. “Who?” she whispered. To Draco her voice sounded dead.
Fred’s face crumpled and he swallowed visibly. “It should have been me Ginny. Oh Maker, I saw it and it was me. Forgive me. Merlin Ginny I thought he was safe at home, I thought…I thought,” Fred trailed off unable to continue.
Ginny fell to her knees in front of her brother and cupped his dirty face in her porcelain hands. She smiled angelically at him, her eyes shining with waiting tears. “Who?” she asked again, and this time her voice was soft and everything an angel’s voice should be.
It was obvious to Draco that Ginny’s actions were the only thing keeping Fred from going over the deep end. He would mourn, scream, yell, curse, and lose it, but he still had his younger sister to take care of right now. Fred’s eyes met Ginny’s and he whispered the dreaded news. “Ron.”
Draco looked away as the two Weasley siblings collapsed into each other’s embrace, feeling as though he were intruding on something entirely to pure and raw for the likes of him. He noticed now that Harry was slowly walking towards the house, while Remus took control of Ron’s body. Hermione was sobbing and turned to look at Draco. He stood staring at her for a moment, not really knowing what to do. He didn’t belong here. He wasn’t part of this family. But where Hermione went, he would follow, and so he stayed.
Seeing that he was not about to make a move toward or away from her. Hermione turned and walked into the Weasley’s house, past the two broken people crying their souls out on their front porch. Draco decided it was best if he followed Remus and walked into the Burrow for the first time. As they entered the kitchen Draco saw the bottom half of Harry’s body sticking out of the fireplace. He heard his distant voice and imagined he must be contacting Ron’s parents, as it seemed as though no one was home.
Footsteps coming down the stairs made both Remus and Draco turn to see who would soon appear. A tall redheaded man came into the kitchen. Draco had no idea who he was but could guess that he was probably one of Ron’s older brothers. The man’s eyes took in Malfoy, Remus, and Harry’s now emerging body. In the background was the unmistakable sound of Ginny and Fred. Then the man’s eyes fell upon the body. They widened and he looked at Remus.
“Who?” he asked, his voice strong and deep.
“Bill, I’m sorry,” Remus began but Bill cut him off with a sharp gesture of his hand.
“It’s Ron, Bill,” Harry said from behind them, his voice quiet but strong.
Draco watched as Bill swallowed convulsively and nodded his head once before turning and heading towards the sound of weeping. A seed of respect began to grow in Draco for the longhaired Weasley.
Suddenly the kitchen was filled with popping sounds as the room filled with the rest of the Weasley family and a few others Draco recognized, and some he did not. Feeling this was not a place he would be welcome, nor that he would feel comfortable in, he caught Remus’s eyes and nodded towards the back door. Remus nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to the Weasley family.
Draco hurriedly and unobtrusively made his way towards the door and opened it as quietly as was possible, closing it behind him. He walked out into the back garden and took a deep, stabling breath as he took in his surroundings. As his gaze passed the lower part of the garden, he saw Hermione’s hair shooting out from behind the pumpkins. He took a deep breath and mustered up more courage than he’d needed in a while and walked the seemingly endless path to her tiny form.
As he rounded the corner and he finally saw her, he had to fight the urge to run over to her and take her away from all this. Her face was covered in blood and dirt. Her tears leaving wet smudges on her usually smooth cheeks. Her eyes were looking upwards as though searching for the answers of the universe.
“Hermione,” he said softly, hesitantly. She made no move to indicate that she had heard him. He took the final steps towards her and sat down next to her, his tired back leaning heavily on the giant pumpkin behind him. “Hermione,” he tried again, turning his head to look at her, his arm brushing hers.
She blinked. She blinked and Draco almost cheered. It was a sign of life, a sign of consciousness. He fought the smile that almost came to his lips and heaved a great sigh, allowing his tired and beaten body to relax for the first time in hours. Not really knowing how to handle a situation such as this, or really what to say, he slowly lifted his hand to her chin and gently turned her head to face his. His breath left him as he saw the hurt and loss in her chocolate eyes.
“How did you find us?” Draco asked very quietly, for lack of anything better, averting his eyes from the pain in Hermione’s.
“Snape,” came her hoarse, broken reply.
“Oh,” he whispered. He was once again at a loss. What does a person do? He had no practice with this. He was the Slytherin badass, Lucius Malfoy’s son. He would gladly throw his life on the line in an instant to protect her, but when it came to emotion, and condolences, Draco was stranded in a wasteland of confusion.
Fortunately for him, Hermione decided that words were not needed. Draco watched as she slowly leaned forward, her eyes drawing him into the depths of her, her lips acting as magnets. He felt his breath hitch. The thought that Hermione was willingly about to kiss him made him want to forget everything that had happened in the past week. Slowly, her lips reached out and met his. They were soft and slow, nothing like when he had pounced on her before. She tasted of blood, sweat and dirt. He had never tasted anything sweeter. He allowed his lips to caress hers achingly slow, and feather light. Neither had closed their eyes and he watched her watch him back. He had never been in such intimate contact with another human being. She was pouring all her hate, hurt, loss, and pain into this one kiss, and Draco gladly accepted like a blind man seeking sight.
Her eyes began to shine with a brightness that did not come from the cold sun. His heart began to ache but he couldn’t pull away. She needed this embrace as much as he did. He brought his fingertips slowly up to her cheek and caressed her skin as his lips continued to caress hers. He never wanted this moment to end. When it ended, reality would hit them again. Ron would still be dead, Voldermort still free, their lives still in danger.
As the sky opened up to add its sorrow to Hermione’s, Draco slowly pulled his lips free from hers. He stayed a centimeter in front of her, his eyes boring into hers, trying to feed her strength and love, not caring about the things that needed to be said between them. The rain picked up in strength but neither moved. She blinked as a raindrop fell onto her eyelashes. He smiled and leaned forward ever so slightly to kiss her swollen lips once.
“I’m sorry,” he finally managed to say, his lips brushing hers due to their proximity.
“Sorry doesn’t change anything,” she whispered, her tears indistinguishable from the falling rain. “Sorry doesn’t give me back a life I never had.”
He felt a knife slide into his heart at her words. “I wish I could give you that life Hermione, but I can’t, and I’ll never be able to. I realized that long ago and accepted it. Life for people like us will always be difficult and full of loss.”
“But why?” she spoke through her sobs. There was pleading in her eyes, pleading to make things simple.
“You know why luv,” Draco whispered as he began to stroke her wet hair. “We chose to fight. You woke up one morning and made a decision not to sit back at let others rule your life. You, me…Ron, we all chose a life with risks. He knew that,” he said carefully. He didn’t want to anger her, though he would rather have her angry with him than have to endure watching her heartbreak. He had never liked the Weasel, but Hermione had loved him. For him that was enough.
“Knowing doesn’t stop the pain,” she said, her eyes hardening slightly. ‘Good,’ Draco thought. She was a fighter and the sooner she started fighting, the sooner she would turn her pain and grief into anger. Then she would certainly be a force to reckon with. Draco had always been taught to take any emotion and turn it to advantage. People were unable to hurt you that way. He had lived by that for most of his life. He had lived like that until one fateful day he had crossed paths with the woman in front of him and tried to kill her.
“We’ll find who did this to Ron, who has been torturing us for years, and who took you and kill them Hermione,” he said, his fingers finding their way back to her face. He saw her eyes pleading with him again, and this time he understood perfectly. Her eyes clearly said, ‘Lie to me.’ He took a deep breath. “This will all end and just maybe you will be able to have that life you’ve been dreaming of. No more loss and pain, no more crying when you think no one is listening.”
“No more running?” she asked, her eyes boring into his. Draco allowed himself to get lost in this fantasy. He imagined she was asking him to stop running and join her in her life. He imagined that the emotion in her eyes that lay beneath the pain and sadness was love. He imagined. If lying to her at this moment was what she wanted, he would do it.
He nodded his head slightly. “No more running,” he stated forcefully. A ghost of a smile stretched across her face and this time they met each other half way. This kiss was one of passion and need. Her tongue forced its way into his mouth and he eagerly accepted it. He had no illusions as to the nature of this kiss. She wanted to leave this place and he would gladly take her away. The consequences would come later. He had been willing to die for her; he had no problem helping her get rid of her pain, even if it meant losing her forever. He just didn’t want to see her cry anymore.
At some point her hands had ripped open his already torn shirt and were eagerly exploring his wet, blood-covered chest. He brought his own hands around her tiny waist and pulled her towards him forcefully until he had her situated on his lap, her legs wrapping around his body. Their mouths were meeting and parting in the most primitive of battles and he pulled her body forward until they were chest to chest. He moaned. Suddenly they both froze. His eyes flew open and met hers, unable to read the look she was giving him but certain of the slight fear and uncertainty he found there. He brought his face away from hers, his body screaming in protest as her lips were torn from his.
He looked down between there bodies to see what had jabbed him so painfully in the chest and saw a handle escaping the folds of her torn robes. He looked back up at her and she closed her eyes briefly before opening them. She slid from his lap to sit on his knees and reached into her robes, withdrawing the offending object. Draco gasped, his eyes flying from the dagger up to hers.
“Whoever killed Ron, used this,” she said, her voice hard and even, her eyes turning to ice.
“Ho-How?” Draco stuttered out. He had thrown away that dagger so long ago it felt as though it had been a lifetime. He reached out and took the dagger from her, grasping it with his bloodstained hands.
“Fred,” she said. “Fred saw you and went after it. He gave it to me the night I found you in my flat. I don’t know why he did, and neither does he, but I took it and I put it in a drawer. I hadn’t thought twice about it until I saw it sticking out of Ron’s dead body,” she said monotonously, almost as though she were reciting lines.
The world came crashing into Draco. He hastily removed his legs from under her, his eyes unable to meet hers. He stood up quickly, the rain plastering his ragged clothing to his body. He looked around the garden for escape, but his eyes were drawn back to the dagger in his hand. His father had given him that dagger. He had given him that dagger so he could kill Hermione. It was when he had held that dagger to her throat that his life had changed. He had thrown it as far as he could into that blasted lake because of how the dagger taunted him and called out for blood. And now, the dagger lay innocently in his hand looking for all the world as though it had not just spilled the blood of an innocent.
He had caused this. It all came back to him. He had started this all so very long ago. He should never have come back; he should never have learned to love her; he should never have tried to save her life. Instead she was losing the ones she loved. Soon she would realize what he had and come to hate him. He couldn’t bear that. His eyes rose to hers and he saw her take a step back at whatever she saw in them. He had to leave her.
“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered before he brought his mouth crashing down on hers for a single, solitary moment. Then he turned and fled. It seemed he was doing a lot of that lately. At least he was getting good at it. He turned and ran out of the garden, up the back stairs and came to a dead stop in the Weasley’s kitchen.
They all looked up at him as though he were mad. Most had tears in their eyes, others looked lost, unable to deal with the pain. But one face met his with a hardness beyond anything Draco had ever experienced. Fred Weasley stood slowly and walked towards Draco. For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy was afraid of a Weasley. If it were possible, Fred looked like Death herself had come to Earth and taken human form. Draco saw him glance at the dagger still clutched in his hand. The rain from outside began to run down his body and drip from his hand mixing with the blood there giving the dagger the appearance that it was dripping blood. Fred froze. His eyes slowly traveled back up to Draco’s and he nodded his head towards the next room, indicating he wished to speak with him in the abandoned living room.
Draco followed.
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A/N: Well folks? This chapter turned out to be super long. I hope you all like it. One part was really heartbreaking for me to write but I really do hope I pulled of the grief parts. It is difficult to write and well, here’s hoping. As for the action bits, well, hope they weren’t too ridiculous. Just let me know! Many things to deal with. When Hermione stops grieving she will most definitely confront Draco regarding the hasty I love you last chapter! Till then.
Love, Ally
You're the only thing that I love
It scares me more every day
On my knees I think clearer
Goodness knows I saw it coming
Or at least I'll claim I did
But in truth I'm lost for words
What have I done, it's too late for that
What have I become, truth is nothing yet
A simple mistake starts the hardest time
I promise I'll do anything you ask...this time
-Chocolate by Snow Patrol
Chapters 17&18
Chapter 17: Do You Hear My Heart Beating?
Author: Hafthand (Ally)
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Fred goes to war.
A/N: This was a very difficult chapter to write, as you will all see, but it is very dear to me. I hope you like it, in as much as anyone can like this chapter.
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His lean frame was pressed tightly against the cold, stone wall behind him. He tilted his head slightly to the side, trying to get a view of the dank hallway behind him. Nothing. “Fuck,” he swore under his breath. He heard a crash in the distance and said, “Double fuck.”
Fred Weasley was the joke king. He and his brother were the laughs. But he was also one of Dumbledore’s best agents. No one knew and that was the point. So here he was, facing a fate he knew had been coming. He knew he was dead already. At the end of this run he would be struck down; he had seen it. But he had a mission to do, and before he gave into the darkness, he would damn well complete it. He may have skived off of many things in his life, but there was still honour in him, and he would die honourably. He would die by their hands, yes, but on his terms.
He knew when he had walked in on Malfoy and Remus earlier that evening that they would be leading him to his doom, and he had accepted with a smile and a laugh. He took a deep breath and turned his body around before sprinting down the hallway and throwing himself into the wooden door before him. As he burst through, he came to a halt and for a moment the sight before him took him aback. A full-blown battle was taking place. At some point the others had shown up. “Fuck,” Fred whispered. How did it come to this?
Flashback
Fred walked casually down the massive hall munching on the lemon drops Dumbledore had cheerily given him and trying to picture a five-year old Draco Malfoy growing up in such a place. For all its grandeur and richness, Fred realized he would never trade his childhood in the Burrow if it meant living here. It was big all right, too big. You felt like a stranger within the Manor’s cold, never-ending halls.
It was even emptier now than it had been a few hours earlier. After the meeting with Dumbledore, both Malfoy and Harry had fled. Where to, Fred hadn’t the foggiest. Hermione had disappeared to her room and Snape and Lupin had walked in opposite directions.
The barren stone hallways made him yearn for escape also. He was very tempted to go back to the Burrow. His heart ached to see George. It had been too long. Ginny had been away so much lately with her job that Fred felt as though his baby sister was a stranger. Bill and Charlie had always been away as he was growing up, whether at school or work, yet he missed their strong and calming presence. Percy, well Percy was Percy, but he was still blood. As for Ron, Fred wished he hadn’t stayed away after leaving to deliver his message to Dumbledore two days ago. Next too George, Fred was closest to Ron and realized having his younger brother here to pick on would have been a great distraction, but he could see why Ron would stay away. A person could only handle so much of Malfoy, Harry, Remus, and Snape at the same time.
Fred shook his head as he rounded yet another corner and froze as he heard hushed voices from within the room to his left.
“Draco, it’s suicide, you know this,” Lupin’s calm, soothing voice said from beyond the doorway.
“Yeah well at the moment I am feelin’ suicidal,” Malfoy’s voice countered. He sounded weary and resigned; resigned to a fate he was trying to avoid. Fred could relate. For too long he had been dreading the arrival of Mister Malfoy. Malfoy’s rebirth would mean Fred’s death. He would have to be crazy to be looking forward to that.
“You may want to court death this night Draco, but what makes you think I wish to?” Lupin asked, and from the noise in the room it seemed as though he was moving around, possibly pacing.
“Men like you and me always court Death, Remus. To men like us she is something we will always dance around before giving in,” Draco said solemnly. For a moment all was silent and Fred leaned forward a bit. He heard Malfoy sigh before continuing. “What do we have to lose?” Malfoy asked.
“Too much,” Lupin said softly. A silence heavier than before descended and Fred could imagine both men were making a list in their minds of what was important in their lives. Fred imagined both lists would be very short.
“We have more to lose if we sit and do nothing. We don’t have a choice Remus. We can sit and wait for them to find us, killing us all in our beds or we can bring the fight to them. Since when do we stand back and let others rule our lives?” Malfoy said, his voice rising slightly in volume yet remaining even.
“Dumbledore would not approve,” Lupin said.
“Dumbledore! Ha, the old man has been letting Potter fight battles on his own since the guy was eleven. I think Dumbledore sanity and rationale is highly questionable,” Draco said, his voicing returning to its cold, normal tone.
“Don’t speak so of Dumbledore, Draco. He is far saner than any of us give him credit for. What he does is with the world’s best interest in mind, never forget that,” Lupin said. A short pause followed before Lupin continued. “But I do agree with you on one thing Draco. I will not sit back knowing what we know. If we don’t do something now, too many others will get involved and too many others will die. There is precious little left in this world that I treasure,” Lupin said and breathed out heavily. “But I refuse to sit back and let it be taken from me. I did that once, and I will not do it again,” he said, his voice powerful with memory and vengeance.
Fred did not have to be Hermione Granger to work out what Lupin was referring too. Fred had often seen a look in the werewolf’s eyes when he watched Harry. Fred knew that Lupin felt responsible, in some part, for James and Lily’s deaths. They had thought he had been the spy and had trusted Pettigrew instead. Fred shook his head in pity. What that must be like, to live on after all others you have loved have died? What must it be like to have a reminder of the days gone by reflected back to you in the form of your best friend’s son? What must it be like to be alone in a world that hated what you were?
Fred had always held the highest respect for Lupin. But as he sat listening to Malfoy and his former Professor talk, Fred Weasley realized he wouldn’t mind adding Remus to his short list of important people.
Fred was tempted to walk on, or perhaps make his presence known to them, but decided he wished to here more of what they were planning. He wasn’t stupid, he knew they were talking about taking on Death Eater’s, if not Voldermort himself, but he had to be sure. Fred didn’t like not knowing.
“I won’t sit back and let Voldermort destroy her Remus. I can’t,” Draco’s voice suddenly pierced the silence that had fallen. For a moment, Fred was taken aback by the heavy emotion evident in Malfoy’s voice.
“He wants you dead also Draco. Are you so quick to give up your life?” Lupin asked.
“I did it once before,” Draco replied coldly.
“As yes, silly of me to forget,” Lupin said softly.
“Wish I could,” Draco whispered so low that Fred strained to hear.
“Isn’t it enough that she did?” Lupin asked carefully. Fred was becoming slightly confused. The she they were talking about had to be Hermione, but as for the rest, the meaning was lost to him.
“Well then. If we are decided I don’t think we should wait. Dumbledore practically handed me their location on a platter. I think he realized I would take the bait,” Draco said in a rush. Fred began to sense a steel determination from the next room tinged only slightly with fear.
“I think we are not enough for this mission Draco,” Lupin said slowly.
“Bringing Potter would ruin it, and I will not have Snape revealing himself just to help us,” Draco stated firmly.
“I had someone else in mind. Someone a bit subtler. Perhaps we should consider asking Fred to join our crusade,” Lupin said. Fred’s breathing stopped at the sound of his name. He knew. Right then and there he knew it had finally come, his doom. Everything that had been happening up to now was leading to only one possible end. Fred knew he could not say no. Even though he new he would not make it out of the battle they were proposing, he would not be labeled a coward. He would not sit back at let someone else fight for the lives of those he loved.
“Fred Weasley and subtle in the same sentence? Are you mad Remus?” Draco asked.
“Perhaps a bit, but a lot has changed since you’ve been gone Draco. There is more to Fred then I think anyone really knows,” Lupin answered. Had the conversation been a different one, in a different place, Fred would have glowed with pride. Unfortunately, times were as they were.
“Do you think he would be willing to put his life on the line? He has a lot more to lose than we do,” Draco said.
Fred decided it was past time for him to make an appearance. He did so love an entrance. He pushed the door aside and strolled casually into the room saying, “Well the only way to know for sure would be to ask him, don’t you think?”
The looks on their faces were enough to make Fred smile widely. “So I hear you need a man of my many talents,” he said rubbing his hands together. Lupin stood frozen in his spot by the window. His arms hung limply next to his tattered robes. Malfoy was very still in his place against the wall on the opposite room, his arms crossed in front of him. Both men looked as if they had been caught stealing their mother’s freshly baked pie.
“How long were you standing out there,” Malfoy asked quickly.
“Long enough to hear what needed hearing,” Fred said, his voice even and strong, all sign of laughter gone. His eyes leveled with Malfoy’s and for the first time the two really looked at each other. The silver haired demon nodded his head slightly and turned back to Lupin.
Lupin took a step forward and narrowed his eyes slightly. “Fred, I wouldn’t normally ask you to do this, but we need help if we have any chance of succeeding. Even so, we could all lose our lives if this goes wrong,” Lupin said, his eyes shining with intensity.
Fred leaned casually against the wall next to him. “I’d be a fool to let the two of you waltz off to be heroes, or more likely martyrs, and not get a piece of the action. Whatever it is you two are planning, and I have some thoughts on what that might be, you can be sure I will be there,” Fred said, his voice containing no mirth, his eyes blazing with his sincerity. “Besides, we’re all meant to die sometime right? Why not go down in a blaze of glory huh?” Fred said somewhat lightly.
“Just as long as you know the risks,” Malfoy said.
“Fuck the risks Malfoy. Why should the two of you be the only ones who get to fight for the ones you love?” Fred asked, his eyes boring holes into Malfoy’s. “Voldermort is after you Ferret, but for some reason he has decided to add our lovely Miss Granger to the mix. You’d rather die then see her get hurt again. You risked your life before and it held them off for a little while. Now they want blood. You’re not the only one who loves her Malfoy. I’d rather die then see her cry again,” Fred said, finally drawing a deep breath, his eyes daring Malfoy to challenge him.
Lupin stood to the side, quietly watching the two. After a moment of deadly silence Malfoy pushed away from the wall and walked towards Fred. Slowly he stuck out his hand. Fred looked once more into Draco’s Malfoy’s icy eyes before grasping his hand firmly.
“Well then, shall we enlighten Mister Weasley here on our situation?” Lupin spoke up as he walked forward towards them.
“Yes I think that would be for the best. But first, I want to know everything Malfoy, the whole bloody truth. I will march to my death next to you knowing why. I want to hear it from your mouth, everything about the last five years. After that, we’ll go kill the bastard who has made our life a living hell. They may even write a book about us,” Fred said, a smile that did not reach his eyes appearing on his face.
And just like that, Malfoy started talking, with occasional input from Lupin. Fred’s face fell as all was revealed to him. He had had a general idea of what had transpired of course, but parts of the story still shocked him. It also had the effect of cementing him to their cause. Fred would gladly die fighting beside a Malfoy and a werewolf, for he knew no other option lay before him. But first, they needed to find Snape and wring some information out of his bony body.
End Flashback
And so they had waltzed into the fortress of evil knowing they might possibly never walk back out. They had separated and each gone a prearranged way. The plan had been to meet up in the central chamber room where, Dumbledore had informed Malfoy, Voldermort would be waiting. But as Fred burst through into the room it was apparent that something must have gone wrong. There were too many people who shouldn’t be here, fighting for their lives.
A cold fear gripped his insides. He had not seen this. There were too many risks now, even more than there had been earlier. A great flash of yellow light lit up the room. Everything slowed down. The people, the spells, the action, time itself. Fred watched as the people he loved battled around him. He heard Hermione call out for Malfoy, and heard Malfoy scream a warning to Hermione. He watched Harry stumble under the force of an unknown spell and watched as Snape ran to stand over The-Boy-Who-Lived and block his body from any more damage. He saw Remus take down Death Eater after Death Eater, never pausing in his path of destruction.
An odd ache began to grow within Fred’s chest as he watched a figure materialize in the doorway across from him. Fred stood frozen for a moment as he watched the person stumble into the room and fall, blood pooling from the silver dagger, a silver dagger Fred knew too well, protruding from their chest onto the floor. Their bound hands twisted oddly behind them.
Fred let out a bellow that echoed straight down to the caverns of Hell itself. Suddenly, everything sped up. Fred ran towards the fallen figure, not caring if he pushed aside friend or foe. His one thought was to reach the body. His one goal was to take that filthy dagger and throw it far, far away.
As he reached the body he fell to his knees and turned the head to look at him. Cold, dead eyes stared up into his. Fred felt the need to vomit. Suddenly silence covered the room and Fred could hear the sound of people running away. Whether it was the good guys or the bad guys fleeing, he didn’t care. Hermione’s scream that pierced the silence a moment later informed him that his friends remained but had finally witnessed what lay in front of him.
Fred gathered the body up in his arms, but remained staring at the lifeless eyes. He couldn’t look away. He couldn’t stop the tears pouring down his face. He couldn’t stop the bellows that shook his body and the tiles on the floor. He couldn’t stop the blood flowing out of his brother’s body. He couldn’t remember if he’d said good-bye.
He reached out and tore the offending dagger from the body and threw it across the room. How and why it came to be here were questions he would think about later; now was not the time.
As Fred sat clutching the body to him, his mind cleared and he had one thought only. How, in all that is holy, was he going to tell his mother that Ron had died? How was he ever going to tell his mother? A rage as hot as the hottest fire began to burn inside Fred Weasley. It was supposed to be his body lying dead on the floor, not Ron’s. He had seen it as clear as day. How could he have been so wrong? He felt his heart threatening to break through his chest. The pain was beyond anything he had ever experienced. “Ron,” he whispered, reaching down and kissing his brother’s forehead, before he gently and lovingly raised his bloody hands up and closed his brother’s eyes forever.
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A/N: Unfortunately it was time for a character to die. How and why Ron died will be revealed later as his murderer will just love to gloat about it, so stay tuned for the truth there. For any of you who were wondering where Ron had indeed got to, well there it is, sorta. Strangely, no one picked up on the fact that I had Ron disappear from the fic a while back! I am really anxious to hear what you all have to say about this one, so let me know. Like I warned you, it is a dark fic and it is going to get darker! But as Dumbledore said in the third movie,
“But you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times.”
Love, Ally
“Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.” -the incomparable Bob Dylan
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Chapter 18: As If You Have A Choice
Summary: Of battles, loss, and running from what you love.
A/N: Wow I am really on a roll with these updates! Let us hope I can keep it up! Anyway, here is where we find out a bit of the battle that took place before Fred walked in. It also deals with a bit of the aftermath of Ron’s death. I hope you enjoy. This chapter is a bit longer and a bit deep in the introspective kind of way.
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Draco had burst into the main chamber room expecting to find anything but what he saw. He watched as Hermione turned towards him, her wand drawn. Her mouth opened in surprise when her eyes met his.
“Draco?” she asked.
“Unless you know someone else this good-looking,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm and haste. “What the bloody hell are you doing here Granger?” he said angrily as he walked towards her. A sudden hand on his arm stopped him and for the first time he noticed others in the room.
“Now, now Malfoy, I was just about to ask you the same thing,” came Potter’s horrible voice to his right. Draco’s eyes widened in confusion as he looked first at Potter then at Snape.
“Fuck,” Draco said aloud, though it was hardly directed at any in the room. He watched as his plans went shooting out the door. The trio’s unexpected arrival was something he, Fred, and Remus had most certainly not planned for. Suddenly, something else hit Draco. Where the hell was Voldermort? Draco pushed Harry away and began to look around the room, his wand drawn. “Where is he?” he asked no one in particular.
Dumbledore had informed Draco that Voldermort would be here in this very place this very evening. Apparently a ‘spy’ had informed Dumbledore that a meeting was to be taking place here. Draco figured what a better way to reconnect with his old ‘friend’ then to pop in and say hello. Unfortunately it looked as though no such meeting was to be taking place. For if it was, the current attendees were well out of place.
Unless…suddenly something else clicked. Since when was the home of Voldermort so lightly guarded? He had made it to this room faster than anticipated and had only come across two other wizards. One he had made easy work of with a quick spell, the other had put up a bit more of a fight and the blood on Malfoy’s knuckles was proof. Something wasn’t right. This was all too easy. His eyes traveled back to the three other persons in the room. A light bulb went off in his head. Maybe it was supposed to be easy.
The Dark Lord had always been good at anticipating other’s actions. Perhaps he had purposely planted the information of a meeting to draw him here tonight. As his eyes once again fell upon Hermione, Draco thought that perhaps the Dark Lord had hoped to draw more than just him out tonight.
His thoughts were interrupted by a door exploding somewhere off to his left. All four turned and had their wands pointed as the source of the explosion stumbled into the room.
Remus stood shocked at the sight before him, blood dripping down his face from several cuts. Draco ran over to the werewolf.
“I see plans have changed. If you were going to invite others to this party Draco, you should have warned me,” Remus said, his voice cold as he noticed Snape, his eyes filled with worry as they passed over Hermione and Harry.
“Seems those aren’t the only plans that have changed. Take a look around,” Draco said, indicating the empty chamber room.
“Would someone please explain what the hell is going on?” Potter practically shouted
Draco watched as realization dawned on Remus Lupin’s face. “Fuck,” escaped the werewolf’s lips before all hell broke loose.
The room was suddenly flooded with Death-Eater’s, spells cast with only a second to dodge them. The four of them burst into action. Draco could only remember one other time that he had fought so hard for his life. The battle was rough and severely outnumbered. There were no less than forty Death-Eaters trying their best to kill or capture the five of them now in the room. As Draco dodged a fairly powerful spell, he wondered briefly where Fred had gotten too. His thoughts were ripped away from the Weasley as a spell brushed against his shoulder, causing a huge gash to open. Draco hissed at the pain and sent and equally powerful curse back at the wizard.
True, they were outnumbered, but then again, look whom Draco had on his side. The-Boy-Who-Wouldn’t-Die, Hermione-I-Know-Everything-Granger, a former professor of the Dark Arts, and Severus Snape, double agent extraordinaire. Needless to say, they held their own. Beads of sweat began to form upon his brow as the battle seemed to pick up a notch. From the corner of his eye he saw Fred come barreling into the room and freeze. He was probably in shock at the battle that was meeting his eyes. Draco heard Hermione scream his name from somewhere in the distance and he whipped his body around in time to duck a blazing orange spell coming his way. He saw Hermione start to run towards him but he frantically warned her off as three Death-Eaters made a charge for him.
Luckily for Draco, Hermione was not the docile type. A nicely aimed stunning spell brought down two while Draco’s own dreamless sleep spell hit the other. He really should be trying to kill them all, as they were trying to kill them, but Draco could not bear to kill while Hermione was watching. Last time that had happened things had gone terribly wrong. So as long as he could get away with harming the Dark wizards as much as was possible, he would be content with that. But he would kill in an instant, if there were no other way.
And as suddenly as the attack had begun, it was over. Draco put his hands on his knees and took in great gulps of air as the remaining Death-Eaters fled the room, taking the bodies of their fallen comrades with them. He felt Hermione place her hand gently on his arm and he turned to look at her, noticing her blood-covered body. He felt the urge to run after those still alive and kill them for harming her. He was stopped however by Hermione’s hand falling from his arm and her scream piercing the room. Only then did he become aware of someone else’s screams. Screams that seemed to rip into his very soul. He turned his head and saw Fred Weasley cradling a very bloody and very dead Ron Weasley.
“Shit,” he whispered. He stood back and watched as Remus and Snape ran to the body, apparently attempting to see if any spark of life remained. Fred refused to relinquish his hold on Ron, making their work awkward. It was, however, short lived as the pool of blood Fred sat in answered the question of whether the youngest Weasley son still lived. Harry seemed to walk in slow motion towards the body, dropping slowly to his knees, his hand reaching towards Ron and then drawing back quickly as though he had been burned. For the first time since Draco Malfoy had met Harry Potter, he pitied him. The look on his face was one of total failure and loss. He was white as a ghost and his eyes had a distant, glossy look to them. Harry Potter, it seemed, had left the building.
But it was the last member of this fucked up psuedo-family that Draco really cared about. He watched as Hermione walked up to Fred, her eyes not looking at Ron, but pleading with Fred to tell her something other than the obvious. Fred, for his part, didn’t notice. His eyes were glued to his brother’s lifeless ones, his tears flowing freely down his freckled face. Draco walked up behind the now still Hermione and gently put his arms around her. She didn’t notice. Instead they all watched silently as Fred leaned over and placed a kiss upon Ron’s forehead, before he tenderly closed his brother’s eyes with his own bloody hands.
Draco felt, rather than heard the sob that escaped from Hermione’s body. He tightened his grip only to have her rip free from it a minute later. She walked a few steps, bent and picked up an object, pocketed it and then walked over to Harry. Draco watched as she knelt beside the Boy Wonder and was enveloped in his embrace. He turned away, unable to handle the sight of the two crying in each other’s embrace. He tried to rationalize that it was their best friend’s body on the floor, but seeing Hermione in Harry’s arms brought bile to his throat.
Snape was walking over to him and Draco suddenly realized that his former Professor’s life had just taken a turn. It would be apparent now as to which side Snape was fighting for. The Death-Eaters who were currently on their way to their master would no doubt inform their lord of Severus’s part in the battle.
“It seems as though your plans were foiled,” Snape said in a muted voice, though still one laced with ice.
“As were yours,” Draco said, with a hint of sympathy. Snape looked at him long and hard before nodding once.
“I always knew the day would come Draco, it was only a matter of when. I could not stand back and allow them to kill any one of you,” Snape paused, his hard voice softening ever so slightly, his head taking in the broken people before them. “I see however that I was not able to save everyone. Alas, we all know the risks of the life we choose to live. I must go Draco. This new development will not go over well. I must inform Dumbledore as soon as possible. Besides,” and again he glanced to the body, “they will have more important things to do for the time being.”
Draco was lost for words. The man before him looked almost defeated and old, and though there was still spite and loathing in his voice, his eyes seemed to have changed completely. Snape noticed Draco staring at him with a look of confusion on his face.
“I am found out Draco. My life, like yours, is now one of running and hiding. The Dark Lord does not take betrayal lightly. It seems as though I am now bound to Dumbledore even more wholly than before. I made a decision long ago Draco, one I think you made also. I will not be a monster. I am a man, not a good one and one with few morals, but I am a man nonetheless. The body of a young innocent man lies on the floor not ten meters away from me and I feel nothing for him. No pain, no sadness; only envy. He has escaped a battle I have been fighting my entire life. There has been precious little that has ever made me smile, but I have lived on fighting for what I thought was right. I daresay Ronald Weasley knew the risks of his decisions in life, just as I know the risks of mine.”
Snape took one last look at the group before him and turned his eyes back on Draco. “I cannot say I understand or agree with your reasons Mr. Malfoy, but they are yours and yours alone. I have watched you grow under the fist of a ruthless, evil, hateful man, and yet I am proud to say you are nothing like him. We have a long way yet before we are free, if any of us will ever really be free from this. Good day, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said. He turned on his heal, his black cloak billowing out behind him as he walked over to Remus. The two bent their heads together for a moment and then Severus was gone, his exit followed by a popping noise that echoed through out the room.
What happened next was a bit of a blur for Draco. But somehow he managed to find himself a part of the solemn procession that followed Ronald Weasley’s body to the home of his youth. They had wrapped his body in cloaks so as to hide his wounds. It was apparent he had been beaten badly, but for how long… They had untied his bound hands and Draco was not ashamed to admit he had almost gotten sick at the sight. Never had he seen wrists rubbed so raw. They had then apparated to the front lawn and now they stood outside of the Weasley’s front door. No one moved. No one had any idea how to proceed.
Draco watched as Fred closed his eyes and breathed in deeply before walking up to his own front door and knocking. Draco waited and watched. Harry stood next to Remus on the right side of Ron’s covered body, while he and Hermione stood to the left. They formed a somewhat sorry looking honour guard around the body. Draco’s eyes shot back to the front door as he saw it open and heard a voice from within. He saw the littlest Weaslette smiling up at her older brother, her eyes having not yet taken in the rest of the party.
“Fred? What are you doing knocking on the door?” she said, her voice almost like the magical tinkling of bells.
Fred leaned down and placed a bloody hand on his younger sisters cheek. “Ginny,” he whispered, his voice cracking, his eyes beginning to shine. “Oh god Ginny,” Fred moaned as he collapsed at his baby sister’s feet, his arms fallen limply in front of him, his eyes averted from Ginny’s as though he was ashamed to look her in the eye. Draco watched as Ginny’s smile disappeared as she stared at her brother.
“Fred?” she asked in confusion.
And then Ginny looked up. Draco have never held much compassion for the Weasley family, but the look in her eyes as she took them all in was enough to undo him. He felt the bile rise to his throat and it took all of his willpower and years of suppressed emotion to not turn and be sick.
As she took in the cloak-covered body she trembled slightly and turned to her brother. “Who?” she whispered. To Draco her voice sounded dead.
Fred’s face crumpled and he swallowed visibly. “It should have been me Ginny. Oh Maker, I saw it and it was me. Forgive me. Merlin Ginny I thought he was safe at home, I thought…I thought,” Fred trailed off unable to continue.
Ginny fell to her knees in front of her brother and cupped his dirty face in her porcelain hands. She smiled angelically at him, her eyes shining with waiting tears. “Who?” she asked again, and this time her voice was soft and everything an angel’s voice should be.
It was obvious to Draco that Ginny’s actions were the only thing keeping Fred from going over the deep end. He would mourn, scream, yell, curse, and lose it, but he still had his younger sister to take care of right now. Fred’s eyes met Ginny’s and he whispered the dreaded news. “Ron.”
Draco looked away as the two Weasley siblings collapsed into each other’s embrace, feeling as though he were intruding on something entirely to pure and raw for the likes of him. He noticed now that Harry was slowly walking towards the house, while Remus took control of Ron’s body. Hermione was sobbing and turned to look at Draco. He stood staring at her for a moment, not really knowing what to do. He didn’t belong here. He wasn’t part of this family. But where Hermione went, he would follow, and so he stayed.
Seeing that he was not about to make a move toward or away from her. Hermione turned and walked into the Weasley’s house, past the two broken people crying their souls out on their front porch. Draco decided it was best if he followed Remus and walked into the Burrow for the first time. As they entered the kitchen Draco saw the bottom half of Harry’s body sticking out of the fireplace. He heard his distant voice and imagined he must be contacting Ron’s parents, as it seemed as though no one was home.
Footsteps coming down the stairs made both Remus and Draco turn to see who would soon appear. A tall redheaded man came into the kitchen. Draco had no idea who he was but could guess that he was probably one of Ron’s older brothers. The man’s eyes took in Malfoy, Remus, and Harry’s now emerging body. In the background was the unmistakable sound of Ginny and Fred. Then the man’s eyes fell upon the body. They widened and he looked at Remus.
“Who?” he asked, his voice strong and deep.
“Bill, I’m sorry,” Remus began but Bill cut him off with a sharp gesture of his hand.
“It’s Ron, Bill,” Harry said from behind them, his voice quiet but strong.
Draco watched as Bill swallowed convulsively and nodded his head once before turning and heading towards the sound of weeping. A seed of respect began to grow in Draco for the longhaired Weasley.
Suddenly the kitchen was filled with popping sounds as the room filled with the rest of the Weasley family and a few others Draco recognized, and some he did not. Feeling this was not a place he would be welcome, nor that he would feel comfortable in, he caught Remus’s eyes and nodded towards the back door. Remus nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to the Weasley family.
Draco hurriedly and unobtrusively made his way towards the door and opened it as quietly as was possible, closing it behind him. He walked out into the back garden and took a deep, stabling breath as he took in his surroundings. As his gaze passed the lower part of the garden, he saw Hermione’s hair shooting out from behind the pumpkins. He took a deep breath and mustered up more courage than he’d needed in a while and walked the seemingly endless path to her tiny form.
As he rounded the corner and he finally saw her, he had to fight the urge to run over to her and take her away from all this. Her face was covered in blood and dirt. Her tears leaving wet smudges on her usually smooth cheeks. Her eyes were looking upwards as though searching for the answers of the universe.
“Hermione,” he said softly, hesitantly. She made no move to indicate that she had heard him. He took the final steps towards her and sat down next to her, his tired back leaning heavily on the giant pumpkin behind him. “Hermione,” he tried again, turning his head to look at her, his arm brushing hers.
She blinked. She blinked and Draco almost cheered. It was a sign of life, a sign of consciousness. He fought the smile that almost came to his lips and heaved a great sigh, allowing his tired and beaten body to relax for the first time in hours. Not really knowing how to handle a situation such as this, or really what to say, he slowly lifted his hand to her chin and gently turned her head to face his. His breath left him as he saw the hurt and loss in her chocolate eyes.
“How did you find us?” Draco asked very quietly, for lack of anything better, averting his eyes from the pain in Hermione’s.
“Snape,” came her hoarse, broken reply.
“Oh,” he whispered. He was once again at a loss. What does a person do? He had no practice with this. He was the Slytherin badass, Lucius Malfoy’s son. He would gladly throw his life on the line in an instant to protect her, but when it came to emotion, and condolences, Draco was stranded in a wasteland of confusion.
Fortunately for him, Hermione decided that words were not needed. Draco watched as she slowly leaned forward, her eyes drawing him into the depths of her, her lips acting as magnets. He felt his breath hitch. The thought that Hermione was willingly about to kiss him made him want to forget everything that had happened in the past week. Slowly, her lips reached out and met his. They were soft and slow, nothing like when he had pounced on her before. She tasted of blood, sweat and dirt. He had never tasted anything sweeter. He allowed his lips to caress hers achingly slow, and feather light. Neither had closed their eyes and he watched her watch him back. He had never been in such intimate contact with another human being. She was pouring all her hate, hurt, loss, and pain into this one kiss, and Draco gladly accepted like a blind man seeking sight.
Her eyes began to shine with a brightness that did not come from the cold sun. His heart began to ache but he couldn’t pull away. She needed this embrace as much as he did. He brought his fingertips slowly up to her cheek and caressed her skin as his lips continued to caress hers. He never wanted this moment to end. When it ended, reality would hit them again. Ron would still be dead, Voldermort still free, their lives still in danger.
As the sky opened up to add its sorrow to Hermione’s, Draco slowly pulled his lips free from hers. He stayed a centimeter in front of her, his eyes boring into hers, trying to feed her strength and love, not caring about the things that needed to be said between them. The rain picked up in strength but neither moved. She blinked as a raindrop fell onto her eyelashes. He smiled and leaned forward ever so slightly to kiss her swollen lips once.
“I’m sorry,” he finally managed to say, his lips brushing hers due to their proximity.
“Sorry doesn’t change anything,” she whispered, her tears indistinguishable from the falling rain. “Sorry doesn’t give me back a life I never had.”
He felt a knife slide into his heart at her words. “I wish I could give you that life Hermione, but I can’t, and I’ll never be able to. I realized that long ago and accepted it. Life for people like us will always be difficult and full of loss.”
“But why?” she spoke through her sobs. There was pleading in her eyes, pleading to make things simple.
“You know why luv,” Draco whispered as he began to stroke her wet hair. “We chose to fight. You woke up one morning and made a decision not to sit back at let others rule your life. You, me…Ron, we all chose a life with risks. He knew that,” he said carefully. He didn’t want to anger her, though he would rather have her angry with him than have to endure watching her heartbreak. He had never liked the Weasel, but Hermione had loved him. For him that was enough.
“Knowing doesn’t stop the pain,” she said, her eyes hardening slightly. ‘Good,’ Draco thought. She was a fighter and the sooner she started fighting, the sooner she would turn her pain and grief into anger. Then she would certainly be a force to reckon with. Draco had always been taught to take any emotion and turn it to advantage. People were unable to hurt you that way. He had lived by that for most of his life. He had lived like that until one fateful day he had crossed paths with the woman in front of him and tried to kill her.
“We’ll find who did this to Ron, who has been torturing us for years, and who took you and kill them Hermione,” he said, his fingers finding their way back to her face. He saw her eyes pleading with him again, and this time he understood perfectly. Her eyes clearly said, ‘Lie to me.’ He took a deep breath. “This will all end and just maybe you will be able to have that life you’ve been dreaming of. No more loss and pain, no more crying when you think no one is listening.”
“No more running?” she asked, her eyes boring into his. Draco allowed himself to get lost in this fantasy. He imagined she was asking him to stop running and join her in her life. He imagined that the emotion in her eyes that lay beneath the pain and sadness was love. He imagined. If lying to her at this moment was what she wanted, he would do it.
He nodded his head slightly. “No more running,” he stated forcefully. A ghost of a smile stretched across her face and this time they met each other half way. This kiss was one of passion and need. Her tongue forced its way into his mouth and he eagerly accepted it. He had no illusions as to the nature of this kiss. She wanted to leave this place and he would gladly take her away. The consequences would come later. He had been willing to die for her; he had no problem helping her get rid of her pain, even if it meant losing her forever. He just didn’t want to see her cry anymore.
At some point her hands had ripped open his already torn shirt and were eagerly exploring his wet, blood-covered chest. He brought his own hands around her tiny waist and pulled her towards him forcefully until he had her situated on his lap, her legs wrapping around his body. Their mouths were meeting and parting in the most primitive of battles and he pulled her body forward until they were chest to chest. He moaned. Suddenly they both froze. His eyes flew open and met hers, unable to read the look she was giving him but certain of the slight fear and uncertainty he found there. He brought his face away from hers, his body screaming in protest as her lips were torn from his.
He looked down between there bodies to see what had jabbed him so painfully in the chest and saw a handle escaping the folds of her torn robes. He looked back up at her and she closed her eyes briefly before opening them. She slid from his lap to sit on his knees and reached into her robes, withdrawing the offending object. Draco gasped, his eyes flying from the dagger up to hers.
“Whoever killed Ron, used this,” she said, her voice hard and even, her eyes turning to ice.
“Ho-How?” Draco stuttered out. He had thrown away that dagger so long ago it felt as though it had been a lifetime. He reached out and took the dagger from her, grasping it with his bloodstained hands.
“Fred,” she said. “Fred saw you and went after it. He gave it to me the night I found you in my flat. I don’t know why he did, and neither does he, but I took it and I put it in a drawer. I hadn’t thought twice about it until I saw it sticking out of Ron’s dead body,” she said monotonously, almost as though she were reciting lines.
The world came crashing into Draco. He hastily removed his legs from under her, his eyes unable to meet hers. He stood up quickly, the rain plastering his ragged clothing to his body. He looked around the garden for escape, but his eyes were drawn back to the dagger in his hand. His father had given him that dagger. He had given him that dagger so he could kill Hermione. It was when he had held that dagger to her throat that his life had changed. He had thrown it as far as he could into that blasted lake because of how the dagger taunted him and called out for blood. And now, the dagger lay innocently in his hand looking for all the world as though it had not just spilled the blood of an innocent.
He had caused this. It all came back to him. He had started this all so very long ago. He should never have come back; he should never have learned to love her; he should never have tried to save her life. Instead she was losing the ones she loved. Soon she would realize what he had and come to hate him. He couldn’t bear that. His eyes rose to hers and he saw her take a step back at whatever she saw in them. He had to leave her.
“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered before he brought his mouth crashing down on hers for a single, solitary moment. Then he turned and fled. It seemed he was doing a lot of that lately. At least he was getting good at it. He turned and ran out of the garden, up the back stairs and came to a dead stop in the Weasley’s kitchen.
They all looked up at him as though he were mad. Most had tears in their eyes, others looked lost, unable to deal with the pain. But one face met his with a hardness beyond anything Draco had ever experienced. Fred Weasley stood slowly and walked towards Draco. For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy was afraid of a Weasley. If it were possible, Fred looked like Death herself had come to Earth and taken human form. Draco saw him glance at the dagger still clutched in his hand. The rain from outside began to run down his body and drip from his hand mixing with the blood there giving the dagger the appearance that it was dripping blood. Fred froze. His eyes slowly traveled back up to Draco’s and he nodded his head towards the next room, indicating he wished to speak with him in the abandoned living room.
Draco followed.
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A/N: Well folks? This chapter turned out to be super long. I hope you all like it. One part was really heartbreaking for me to write but I really do hope I pulled of the grief parts. It is difficult to write and well, here’s hoping. As for the action bits, well, hope they weren’t too ridiculous. Just let me know! Many things to deal with. When Hermione stops grieving she will most definitely confront Draco regarding the hasty I love you last chapter! Till then.
Love, Ally
You're the only thing that I love
It scares me more every day
On my knees I think clearer
Goodness knows I saw it coming
Or at least I'll claim I did
But in truth I'm lost for words
What have I done, it's too late for that
What have I become, truth is nothing yet
A simple mistake starts the hardest time
I promise I'll do anything you ask...this time
-Chocolate by Snow Patrol