Under A Clouded Sun

Chapter Six : Fighting Choices

By Arianrhod

Harry ran his fingers nervously over the warm gold of the bracelet as the guardian turned to open the door. He hoped that Gryffindor's bracelet would save him when he faced Slytherin's heir. It seemed a slim chance since nothing was said to be able to stop the killing curse. But my mother did, Harry reminded himself. I can't let her life go to waste now.

The door slid open. Harry had a brief glimpse of Voldemort, sitting in a throne-like chair, behind a wide desk, flanked by Lucius Malfoy and Wormtail, then he heard the high, shrieking voice.

"Avada Kedavra."

The world to seemed to be made of green light as the curse hurtled towards him. Harry whispered commands to the bracelet, hoping it was enough to defend him. Then the curse struck.

Harry's head exploded in pain as he was hurled back against the closed door. He was pale and limp, but still protected by the bracelet. Voldemort stepped to within three paces of him, then stopped, unable to bear the protective shield that the bracelet and the cloak together made.

Harry's eyes opened. He was alive. Voldemort hissed in annoyance.

"You anger me, boy. Why won't you die?"

It took Harry an effort to hold his voice steady. "I've come to take back Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour. You don't want them, you want me. Well, you're not getting any of us." He walked towards the girls, clinging to his wand with bloodless fingers.

Voldemort laughed. "Really? I wouldn't be so sure. I have you're other friends too, you know, in my dungeon."

"No."

"Yes, they were led so easily by Lucius' son. I must say, I'm quite proud of the boy, he'll make an excellent Death Eater one day. Do you know, I think the girl might even be in love with him? Can you imagine, Potter's best friend and my budding Death Eater?"

"Liar!" As Harry lunged forward at Voldemort, he caught his foot and tripped. Desperately he tried to get his footing as he tried to bring his wand to point at the Dark Lord. His grasping hand caught the cloak but to his horror he felt his wand slipping from between his sweaty fingers. He tried to reach it but couldn't without dropping the cloak, which was the only thing shielding him from death. He watched, his heart twisting painfully, as the wand clattered on the stone floor, rolling to rest at Voldemort's feet.

The Dark Lord bent and picked up the holly wand in his long, pale fingers. He smiled as he compared it to his own, the different shades and sizes contrasting sharply. "Twins, feathers from the same phoenix." Voldemort frowned at Harry, "Such a waste, I used to think that you'd join me." Before Harry could answer, Voldemort carried on. "No more. No, today you die, Harry Potter."

Harry lunged forward again, and then stopped. At a nod from Voldemort Lucius had seized the crystal phial in his hand, as it pulsed and swirled with white light. Harry thought he recognised it, but he couldn't think from where. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gabrielle desperately straining towards it, reaching out hopelessly towards part of herself. Then it clicked and he knew when he'd seen it before. On that night, nearly two weeks ago now, when this had all started and Gabrielle's voice had been stolen.

When Lucius saw recognition flash across Harry's face, he moved as if to throw the phial onto the smooth floor, threatening the thin, fragile crystal against hard, unforgiving stone, where it wouldn't stand a chance. Harry froze as a cruel smile played across Voldemort's nightmare face.

* * *

Hermione thought they were moving downwards in the maze like fortress, but she couldn't be sure. Draco was a silent shadow ahead, Ron a silent shadow behind. That was all.

Several times they had had to take side turnings so as to avoid groups of Death Eaters. Hermione wondered if their escape had been discovered yet and if these groups were searching for them. There was no way of knowing.

They had to make frequent stops to allow Ron to direct them. He had discovered that the bracelet could sense its pair. He would say in which direction they had to go and Draco would lead them, finding corridor and stairs that kept them as close to their course as was possible.

Hermione shivered slightly with cold as they waited. Draco slid his arm around her waist. His body warmed her back and she was curiously reminded of that night when she'd discovered the door in the cliff and he'd held her, not unlike this. But it had been unlike this, because then they'd hated each other, and Draco's grip had been rough. Now it was gentle, almost comforting.

She could see Ron frowning out of the corner of her eye. Draco arched his neck downwards and spoke close to her ear. "Once you'd have hexed me for trying to hold you like this."

"Once you wouldn't have tried, you'd have spat at me and called me Mudblood."

She thought she saw him flinch as she said that name, but wasn't sure if it was wishful thinking or reality.

"But you're not," he started.

Hermione cut him off. "Yes I am, to you people. I'm muggle-born, and even you can't change that Draco."

"But..."

"What would your father say if he heard you talking like this, Draco?"

"I don't want to talk about my father."

"Well, I do. He's brought you up to hate all but the purest blood, so why are you acting like this?" Behind them, Ron's frown deepened, but he knew Hermione well enough to let the argument run its course.

"You make it sound like you want me to hate Mudbloods and half-bloods." Draco sounded angry.

"I'd rather you hated the half-blood your father serves."

"I told you to leave my father out of this."

"I don't understand you, Draco Malfoy," she suddenly burst out. "You help us, then I discover it was for your gain; you insult me and then you give me a necklace; you say you're using Elizabeth, then you say you're protecting her; you help us again, then you insult Ron; you bring us into a trap and then you free us. What's the matter with you?"

Draco laughed and Hermione's anger tripled. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped. She could hear the shouts of Death Eaters coming done the corridor and they didn't sound happy.

* * *

"Now Potter, don't move. If you do, I'll drop this bottle. If it breaks then you're little friend's voice will dissipate and she'll be mute forever. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded cautiously. His mind was working furiously. He knew neither Voldemort nor his Death Eaters could touch him at the moment, but he didn't know what the Dark Lord was planning. Harry wondered if he could keep him talking long enough to work out what to do next.

"Why did you take Fleur and Gabrielle if you wanted me?"

"You mean why not someone closer to you? Well, one of my representatives managed to put dark charms on that key while it was at Hogwarts, which allowed me to call whoever the key belonged to. But then Dumbledore gave it to Fleur, so when I called, it was her, not you, who answered. Still, this proved most useful in a different direction. I put the Imperious on her and she made a very useful spy, considering her place in the French Ministry of Magic."

Harry hoped he'd make it back to tell Dumbledore - after all, there was no telling what Fleur might have learn by using her looks and charms. However, the very fact Voldemort was telling him all this implied his chances weren't high. He wondered if Voldemort was also playing for time and the idea that something even more unpleasant than his current situation was coming made him shiver slightly.

"However, she was strong and began to throw the curse off. I called her here but not before she'd managed to throw it off long enough to tell her younger sister. She sent Gabrielle to you with the key, presumably to tell you about my strengths and how dangerous the key was. Luckily, her message was intercepted and you, foolishly, took to carrying the key around with you. But, no matter, I have you here now."

" I may be here, but that doesn't change the fact that you can do nothing to me."

Voldemort laughed. Harry felt his stomach twisting uncomfortably.

He glanced at the door, trying to gauge the distance. Wormtail stood there. Harry's hands balled into fists automatically, as he wondered uselessly once again about his decision to stop Sirius and Lupin killing him.

Harry looked back at Voldemort; the cruel face triumphant, the pale fingers holding his wand just out of reach.

To his other side Lucius stood, Gabrielle's voice dangling precariously from his thin fingers. Behind the Death Eater, two pairs of blue eyes were fixed on him with a desperate hope.

Harry made his decision.

* * *

"Stupefy!" The cry came in three voices as the spell burst from three wands. The approaching Death Eaters fell instantly but there were the sounds of many more, just around the corridor.

Ron grabbed Hermione's sleeve. "Come on, Herm. They'll be here in seconds and we can't fight dozens of them. We have to run."

Hermione didn't move, but turned towards Draco, who wasn't moving. She didn't know how she felt, part of her was still angry but another part wanted to apologise. She didn't like the idea of parting on such a note, What if I never see him again?

Ron was half dragging her along. "Run. Run, damn you, Hermione."

She finally galvanised her tired legs into action and sped along side him. They were running blindly, looking for any turning that would take them away from their pursuers.

A gap opened up in the right wall and they turned down it. The passage forked ahead of them and they took the right turning again, without thinking. Hermione's breath grew ragged and her legs felt as though they were slowly filling with lead, but Ron carried on and so she followed, struggling to keep pace with him.

Finally, the sounds of the Death Eaters faded away and they slowed to a walk. But once they'd got their breath back, Ron insisted they speed back up to a steady jog, pointing out that the Death Eaters would still be following them.

Hermione thought uneasily of Draco as they joggled along. Ron was still finding their way using the bracelet, but without Draco's knowledge of the fortress it took far longer to find the passages and stairs that they wanted.

She wondered if he'd be alright, if he'd just pretend that he wasn't helping them again, as if it meant nothing. That betrayal hurt her, as did every thing he did these days, far more then it had when she'd been able to dismiss him as not worth fretting about. There was no point in denying that Draco mattered to her now. It mattered what he did, good or bad, she realized with a clarity she'd never felt before.

"We're close." Ron's whisper jerked her back to the present. They were standing in some kind of underground corridor. Cautiously, they crept forward towards the door they could see ahead.

"Is that it? They're in there?" Hermione couldn't keep the faint quaver out of her voice.

"I think so, or at least this is as close as we can get." She wished Ron sounded surer.

"So Voldemort won't be behind that door?"

Ron set his hand on the handle. "I hope not," he said as he pushed it open.

* * *

Harry leapt forward, cannoning into Voldemort and grabbing his own wand while he stamped on the Dark Lord's. Wormtail desperately shot a spell at him but the man had been caught off guard and he was too slow and his aim was bad. Harry ducked and rolled away, clutching both the wands to his chest.

Frantically, he tried to use a severing charm on Voldemort's wand but the strong yew refused to budge. In desperation he stamped on it, again and again, and was relieved, if slightly shocked, when it flew apart in a fountain of sparks, one half striking one wall, the other hitting the closed door, both leaving scorch marks. As the wand broke, Voldemort let out a howl. Harry shied back, with his hand burned and throbbing.

But Lucius kept his head; he had grabbed Fleur and Gabrielle and watched as Wormtail attempted to help his screaming master. When Harry turned, wand in hand, intending to free the sisters, Lucius looked him coldly in the eye and dropped the bottle.

There was a second of noise as it smashed. All the words Gabrielle would ever say or ever had said being used in a moment filled the air. Then the scream broke through, the last sound she'd made, leaving nothing but broken shards of crystal and a mute.

Harry stood staring, his hands clasped over his ears, staring incredulously at Gabrielle's horrified face.

"Expelliarmus." Lucius's spell took him by surprise and his wand sailed from his hand.

Harry turned and ran blindly, not noticing or caring that the cloak had slipped from his shoulders. He ran through the door that led to the rest of the fortress, taking side corridors without noticing, losing his body while his mind stayed immovably in that room where he had failed.

Eventually he came to himself. He was cowering against a wall, like a small beaten child, crying. He was in one of the black glassy corridors and he looked around, only dimly remembering even arriving here.

I have to go back, he realised. Yes, I failed her, but I have to face that, I have to get them free.

Lucius didn't even let go of the girls for a moment, part of him answered. And he has your wand.

I don't care.

He began to take stock and realised that he still had his sword sheathed at his waist. How could he have forgotten that he had it? Maybe he could have stopped Lucius dropping the bottle. It would have been so easy to finish Voldemort and Wormtail, if he had only thought.

But if Avada Kedavra didn't kill him, what makes you think a sword would do a better job? that annoyingly logical part of his mind pointed out. Anyway, you stopped them killing Wormtail once, would your dad like his son to be a murderer any more then his friends?

He sighed and began to slowly try to retrace his steps.

* * *

Hermione slowly let her breath out as she realised the room was empty. She would have shouted at Ron for the risk he'd taken if he didn't look so much like a wrung out rag.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice concerned.

"Yeah," he consulted the bracelet. "We're safe for the moment, so is Harry."

"Shouldn't we try to find him?"

Ron grinned in relief, "No, he's coming this way."

"We'll wait then."

He nodded and they sat down against the wall. It was a curious room, made of dark grey rock instead of the glassy black stone or smooth white plaster that they'd seen everywhere else in the castle.

The floor was littered in bits of rubble and roof seemed to have been replaced at some time or other. Hermione got up and began to explore curiously. All in all the room seemed far older than any other part of the castle. There were three doors, the one they'd entered by and two others. All three were set in doorframes crawling in ancient runes that she'd never even seen before. She held her wand close, letting the faint light it emitted fall almost exclusively on the stone, but it was no good. She couldn't read it.

Unsurprisingly, Ron didn't share her interest. He was still sitting down, crouched over the bracelet. Suddenly his head jerked up, "He's here."

Hermione hurried over, her heart twisting, which he does Ron mean?

The door opposite them slammed open and Harry appeared, wild eyed, in the doorway.

"Harry!" Hermione felt relief surge over her. "Harry, are you alr..."

She trailed off as the third door opened. Harry had barely even focused on her before his eyes were drawn to the shape that entered. Dressed in black, slender, elegant, silvery blonde hair catching the weak light. Draco Malfoy.

He stood poised, ready for whatever might happen next. His hand played lazily with the silver birch wand as he eyed Harry distastefully. He completely ignored Hermione. With a flick, he conjured tall grey flames in the corners of the room, lighting it in a constant silver glow. Until then the only light had been from Hermione and Ron's wands.

"Malfoy." The growl seemed almost torn from Harry's throat.

"What, Potter?" Draco drawled lazily, his voice lighter than Harry's. Hermione realised that the last she'd heard him sound like that must have been the time she tried to talk to him outside the Great Hall, days and half a world away.

"Draco?" The half whisper escaped before she could stop it. Neither boy heeded her but Ron gently took her by the shoulders and pulled her to stand at the side with him.

"You're in my way." Harry was standing straighter, his hand lightly resting on his plain sword hilt.

"I know. Are you going to fight me, Potter?"

"If it's the only way by."

Ron had to stop Hermione rushing forward again. "Stop it. This is nothing to do with us; it's between them now. I'm sorry, Hermione, but Draco's chosen his side."

"Try it." Draco's voice was hard, but there was faint trace of satisfaction in it.

Hermione cringed at the faint swish of Harry's sword leaving its scabbard. Then she saw Draco's face fall slightly.

"You haven't got your wand?"

Harry shook his head, sullenly. Draco threw his down. He murmured the summoning spell and moments later, Harry had to throw himself sideways as a silver blade flashed past his head and settled itself in Draco's hand.

Hermione felt a flash of hope; if Draco could summon his sword then the doorway was still open. She fervently hoped Dumbledore had managed to contact some Aurors; the idea they could still get through was comforting.

Harry was looking at Draco in disbelieve. "What are you doing, Malfoy? You have a wand, I don't. Use it. And don't claim to morals, you're a Malfoy and a Slytherin, between the two, I don't believe you have any."

Draco just shook his head, not reacting to the savage tone of Harry's voice. "If we're going fight, I'm going to beat you fair and square. I'll prove you are inferior once and for all. Quidditch won't matter after this." He picked his wand up from the floor and muttered a spell before tucking it back in his robes. Instantly, Hermione felt the presence of strong wards. Draco might have chosen to fight Harry with his sword but he'd made sure he was going to be fighting Harry alone. There was no way physical or magical interruption could reach them through those wards.

Hermione felt sick. Beside her, Ron was beginning to look very anxious, but he didn't let go of her arm for a moment. There was no way he would let her intercede, and she knew that he was right, even if she could somehow smash her way through the wards, this was a matter of male pride now and neither boy would thank her for an interruption. But, her fingers ran nervously up and down her wand all the same.

Harry leapt forward but Draco was ready. The swords met with a harsh clang. Harry spun away. Hermione watched them circle, they were like tigers, vicious, wary and beautiful. She was too worried to realise that she'd just described her best friend and her worst enemy as beautiful.

Again they met, swords seeming to blur as they thrust and parried. Draco's eyes widened by the minute, as he realized he had underestimated Harry skill. So had Hermione - it occurred to her that she had not seen Harry practice in several months and that he had improved vastly since she had last seen him. He had a seeker's quick reactions, even if he didn't have Draco's style or grace. But then he hadn't been learning since he was old enough to hold a sword.

It was like some kind of bizarre dance, this calumniation of six and a half years hatred. Harry's plain silver sword flashed and his black hair flew as he turned. Draco was in step with him, bringing his black and silver sword up to meet Harry's, his own silvery hair seeming to glow in the grey light that made both boys skin silver against their black robes. The whole thing The fight was a study in black and silver, smudging as anxious tears blurred Hermione's vision. But even when she couldn't see the boys clearly she still felt each turn and thrust as if they were her own, so drawn was she into the scene before her.

Her hand was twined around the silver chain at her neck. Luck, Draco said it was lucky. Oh, God we need luck right now. She was holding it so tight that it felt like the metal was biting into her flesh, but she didn't care. All she thought of was the luck. But she realised she didn't even know which one winning would be lucky. All she wanted was for them to stop fighting, she didn't want either of them to die.

Ron put his hand on her shoulder, but she was too rapt to notice until he leant forward a whispered in her ear. "Look."

She looked. The door Harry had entered by was open again. A figure stepped through and into the grey light. His eyes rested on the two boys for a moment, watching their combat. He seemed to try to move towards them but was restrained by something invisible. Resigned, his eyes moved over them and came to rest on Ron and Hermione where they stood, opposite him, tucked back into the half-shadow.

In that instant Hermione saw him clearly. Sirius. In his eyes was a heavy sadness and worry for his godson, an expression that made him look older the he was. But he also seemed young, and there was a restrained energy about him that reminded her of that night in the shrieking shack when he'd tried to kill Peter. He seemed still a young man betrayed and bent on vengeance.

When he recognised them he leant sideways and whispered something, apparently into thin air. After a second the gleam of bright hair was visible, red and silver, and then two faces, bodies, feet. The invisibility cloak fell from around the girls and Ron gaped as Ginny and Elizabeth were revealed.

Hermione felt surprise too, but it made sense. She knew it was Ginny, in one of her Mrs. Weasley moods that had stopped Sirius trying to interfere in the boys' fight. She also knew that she'd been a fool to think that the girls would stay safely in Hogwarts. She felt a flash of annoyance at their recklessness before a little voice in her mind queried Would you have stayed safely at the school when your family and friends were in danger? No, she realised. I'd have done exactly what they did, in fact I have done.

Harry and Draco, locked in their private combat, were too engrossed to notice the newcomers' arrival. Harry didn't see Ginny's tears or hear Sirius's advice. Draco didn't feel the hatred emanating from many of those watching him. Soon the watchers gave up and stood or crouched at the side, waiting for a time when they could help their friend.

The strange dance continued. Finally, Harry saw an opening. He appeared to screw up what remained of his strength, then moved faster than he had before. Draco's sword flew from his hand and bounced against the wall, how about as Harry leapt forward to bring the point of his sword to Draco's chest, but Draco was faster. The blonde boy bent and scooped a fist full of gravel from the edge of a rubble heap. He brought out the wand he'd said he wasn't going to use and, before Harry could react, he threw the pebbles. As soon as they were in the air, he muttered a spell and they transfigured into throwing knifes that swarmed towards Harry, dusty rock becoming smooth steel.

Harry yelled and dropped to his knees, aware as he did so that Draco was scrambling after his sword. Harry rolled, and then righted himself, shaking sweaty hair from his eyes. As he did, the last knife passed by him and with a seeker's reflex he snatched it and hurled it at the waiting Draco. A smirk played over Draco's features as, with perfect timing, he deflected the knife with his sword, making Hermione gasped.

Harry looked ready to kill his long time opponent but held himself under a scant control. He began a furious attack, barely giving Draco time to defend let alone attack, but the look on Draco's face showed, that he understood this furious barrage would end soon and that Harry would have tired himself out so completely he would barely be able to defend himself. Hermione tried desperately to think of some way of helping him but she could not; the wards stopped her reaching him.

No one in the tiny room knew what would happen next, perhaps not even Draco. Nonetheless, when something did happen they were all taken aback. The door that Draco was guarding opened. Everything stopped, the boys almost frozen in mid movement, as they looked at the door.

Voldemort stood there, a black blade in his hand. The sight of it made Hermione shiver almost as much as the sight of him did. The blade seemed to absorb light rather then reflect it. It was like a hole in the fabric of the world, a sword cut from a moonless night, a weapon made for evil.

The black sword twitched in Voldemort's hand, seeming to be questing for Harry's life already. Harry hefted his grip on his silver sword's hilt, ready to meet its attack. Draco's black and silver sword stood between them, still. Hermione felt Draco let down the wards.

Flanked by Wormtail, Voldemort walked forward to confront Harry. Lucius was visible in the doorway, guarding the prisoners. Neither he nor Voldemort paid Draco any mind, seeming to take it for granted that he would step aside.

But Draco didn't step aside. In that second he looked at Hermione for the first time since entering the room. His glance held compassion, stubbornness and tenderness; she'd never expected him to look like that, not at her. He seemed to be asking her permission for something, or for her advice, or for her agreement, and she knew her eyes held what was in her head. Please help him. Help Harry. You're not with Voldemort, you can't be. Help Harry. He needs you right now. I need you. Protect him, for me.

And Draco turned, a neat 180-degree pivot, to stand shoulder to shoulder with Harry and to face Voldemort. His sword came up as Harry's was, waiting to meet the attack.

The Dark Lord made a sound like a dying man's final gurgle. Harry realised he was chuckling, not his usual manic cackle, but with a touch of amusement.

"So my guard dog has turned traitor. Have you chosen your side then, my little trap-baiter?"

Voldemort brought his sword down abruptly towards Harry's throat, but before the other boy could react, Draco's sword caught the blow. He stood, muscles cording in his arms and back as he held the blade away from Harry's throat with his own.

Voldemort chuckled again. "You have then, turncoat. Much good may it do you." With no further warning he withdrew his sword from the lock with Draco's and began a fierce attack on both boys, forcing them to work together to drive him off.

Eventually, reluctantly, they began to communicate. Both knew that without each other they would never make it. Draco began a sharp attack on Voldemort's right while Harry following his lead, attacked his left. Soon the Dark Lord was on the defensive.

Ron was gripping Hermione's shoulder with a bruising grip but she barely noticed. Her own fingers were wrapped around her wand with bloodless pressure. She could see that the others were in the same state. Ginny and Elizabeth were huddled together, Sirius was pacing, desperate to join in but knowing enough to wait as Wormtail was doing. His eyes strayed more and more often to Wormtail. Hermione hoped he wasn't about to do anything stupid

* * *

"That's it. I can't stand this any more," Ginny muttered, standing up. Her eyes never left the fight, nor did those of her companion, but she knew Elizabeth was listening intently.

"I'm going to do something useful," she continued. "Give me the invisibility cloak."

"What are you going to do?" the other girl asked warily.

"I'm going to go free Fleur and Gabrielle. There's only Lucius there now, the other Death Eaters are upstairs and Wormtail and Voldemort are distracted."

"Even just Lucius on his own is possibly too strong," Elizabeth protested. "He knows all kinds of dark magic."

"I know, but we don't have much choice." Elizabeth nodded to that.

They were about to slip under the cloak when Sirius noticed. Ginny was expecting him to be able to come up with hundreds of reasons why they couldn't go but instead he simply nodded sadly and glanced sideways at his god-son. "Sometimes we have to take risks," he whispered.

The girls waited until they were sure no one was looking before shrouding themselves in the invisibility cloak. Stomach twisting, Ginny followed Elizabeth closely, marvelling at Sirius's bravery in walking straight up to the door, uncloaked and very visible.

Wormtail saw him at once but something in Sirius's eyes held him. There was an unquenched anger there strong enough to drag a man through Azkaban sane. The balding man began to sweat and Ginny could see fear in his expression, vivid, clutching fear.

Sirius's hand grabbed Wormtail's throat, slamming the smaller man against the wall, lifting his feet from the floor.

There was enough room for Ginny and Elizabeth to squeeze by, just, although it meant brushing against Wormtail's side. Ginny couldn't get rid of the dirty feeling after that. She knew what the man had done and to her there was nothing worse. Even being near him made her feel soiled by his filth, by his crime.

Lucius still had his back turned when they entered the room. Wormtail's silence had not warned him of any intruder and he was completely un-prepared for the stunning spell that came. Ginny jumped back, to let him fall, not bothering to do anything to cushion his head as it struck the stone floor, small revenge for her miserable first year. She saw something in his hand that she recognised as Harry's wand. No wonder Harry was fighting with his sword. She picked it up.

Elizabeth was already crouching by Gabrielle and Fleur, cutting their bonds with quick severing charms. Ginny was moving to help her when her eyes caught a glint of something on the floor. She knelt to investigate and found the shards of smashed crystal that had once been the phial that held Gabrielle's voice. She recognised them at once and was made sure by the tormented expression on Gabrielle's face.

Tenderly, she helped the younger girl up and together they made their way to the outer room, followed by Elizabeth and Fleur. They settled in a corner, not wanting to leave until they could take Harry with them.

Elizabeth stayed with the sisters, both still rubbing circulation back into hands and feet, while Ginny crept closer to watch. Harry and Draco had Voldemort desperately fighting for his life, their silver swords embroidering beautiful patterns in the air, which Voldemort's black sword tried to unpick. The flash of black inlaid in Draco's sword reminded Ginny of the fragility of the alliance compared with Draco's blood alliance.

"Don't hurt me, please." The whimper came from behind the fight where Sirius had his wand pressed to Wormtail chest. Ginny tried to close her ears to it but it kept coming back.

"Please, Padfoot. Don't hurt me."

"How dare you call me that!" Sirius exploded. "You sold that right along with James and Lily."

"Please, Harry didn't let you kill me before. He was right, Sirius, James wouldn't have wanted you to be a murder." Ginny cringed at the sound of that weak, rather stupid voice trying to be cunning.

"Harry didn't know you were going back to your old master. Neither did James. I think that changes the circumstances slightly," said Sirius, his voice dropping to a growl Ginny could hardly hear. She chanced a look sideways and saw Wormtail was a pale grey colour, looking ill with fear. She didn't look at Sirius, his voice was enough to tell her that she'd be scared by what she saw and she didn't want to think of him other than as the friendly uncle-like figure who meant so much to Harry.

Then she looked back at the fight and felt her insides twist. The Dark Lord stumbled. Draco raised his sword for the final blow. And wavered. And stopped. His eyes met Voldemort's, then Harry's and he stepped back as Harry pushed past him. Harry brought his sword down, his face set so tight Ginny could not see the horror she knew he was feeling behind it. Harry hated killing and though he must know this had to be done, he would take little pleasure in disposing of his parents' murderer.

She heard Sirius whisper, "Goodbye, Peter" then a shout, but she couldn't drag her eyes away from Harry to see what had happened.

It was at the last moment Voldemort moved, like a coiled spring. He shot backwards, back into the room where Lucius was lying stunned. Wormtail had somehow managed to wiggle out of Sirius's grip, away from the execution, perhaps by changing, and tried to follow him but the Dark Lord kicked him back, right under Harry's blade. It was too late for Harry to stop, even if he'd wanted to, and his sword swept down to bury itself in Peter Pettigrew's heart.

* * *

Harry wanted to vomit as he felt the sword jump once or twice with Wormtail's dying heartbeats. He was covered in blood, traitor's blood; he could almost feel it staining his skin with its filth. Traitor, he turned and looked at Draco. The blonde boy was only marginally cleaner then himself and looked just as exhausted. Harry thought of Snape, living a bitter twisted life because his worst enemy had saved his life and hoped that he would not turn into that. He didn't feel bitter at the moment, just tired.

He pulled himself over enough to see the door that lead to the maze he'd entered through swinging open - clearly Voldemort had run. There would be another meeting after this then. He sank to his knees feeling even more bone-weary, if that was possible, for knowing that there must be another confrontation.

And then Ginny was next to him. He pulled her to him, holding her tight against his chest, not even wondering why she was here; he felt all his surprise had been used up. Ginny was holding him just as tightly and for a moment they just clung together, overwhelmed with relief.

Hermione and Ron reached him almost at the same time. There followed a confused conversation of gasped out stories and muttered exclamations of relief, every person talking more for themselves than for anyone else. Somehow with Ginny's hand in his and Ron supporting his shoulder Harry didn't feel quite so weak. He allowed himself to be swept off in the tide of happiness and relief.

He realise briefly he wasn't sure where Hermione was. He thought he'd felt her cool hand against his cheek at first but she wasn't there now. He turned to look and saw her standing alone, facing Draco. She didn't look happy and he wanted to go to her but something stopped him. This was out of his hands. So he stayed still, content for the moment to sit with Ginny beside him and Ron and Elizabeth close by.

Then he looked up and saw Gabrielle and Fleur. His warm bubble of relief burst abruptly. Gently, he disentangled himself from his friends and stood up. Fleur stood a little behind Gabrielle with her hand on her sister's shoulder. Gabrielle herself seemed so small in that instant, delicate and fragile, but the look in her eye was anything but weak. Harry knelt before that look; he wasn't sure what else he could do. Slowly he turned his dusty, bloody face to her and said all that he could say. "I'm sorry." There was no point in saying more; all the words in the world from his mouth couldn't put any in hers. Saying more felt like he was mocking her and those two words said it all anyway.

A pause. Then finally a softening of her eyes and a nod. Forgiveness. Harry felt relief swamp him. "She doesn't blame you. You did your best. Without you we'd still be prisoners." Fleur's voice was calm.

"Without me you wouldn't have been prisoners in the first place. Anyway, how can you tell who she blames if she can't speak?"

The sisters exchanged a brief smile. "What kind of sisters would we be if we needed to talk to show each other what we thought?"

Harry knew he looked confused but he couldn't help it, he didn't have any sisters.

"And it was Voldemort's fault we were prisoner's, not yours, even if it was to get at you. He kept us prisoners and he would love the idea that you're blaming yourself for his crime," Fleur continued.

At that Harry perked up a bit, the calm feeling of belief slowly spread through him, perhaps it wasn't his fault. Perhaps Cedric's death hadn't been his fault either, just as his parents' deaths hadn't been Sirius's. He smiled and got smiles in response.

* * *

Hermione went to him because she knew that what he'd done had been for her and she wasn't sure the price he'd ask her to pay. But Hermione she didn't know how to start and Draco didn't say anything so she stood there, unsure, examining him from beneath her lashes, trying to think what to say. He seemed about to speak but before he did, Sirius came over looking terrible. She went to him immediately. His flushed cheeks in his unusually pale face worried her and he was muttering feverishly under his breath.

"He's dead. He's gone. Harry did it. Perhaps that's best, that's fairest. And the master he sold them for left him to die, yes that was best. I didn't kill him, I could have done, but I didn't. Harry killed him. Voldemort killed him."

"Shh. It's alright now," she soothed, glancing uncomfortably at Peter's corpse.

Sirius looked up and some of the agitated light in his eyes died and some of the un-natural flush left his cheeks. Sirius looked up and she saw that some of his agitation had quieted as the flush faded from his cheeks. "Where's Harry?"

"Over there." She pointed to where Harry was sitting propped against one wall, surrounded by the others.

"I'd better go talk to him."

"Alright," she agreed, catching Draco's eye over his head. Sirius walked off and knelt next to his rather dazed godson. Hermione watched until some life seemed to return to both of them. She could tell they were swapping stories and wondered what had happened but she knew she'd have to catch up later because the blonde boy in front of her was looking impatient.

"Thank you," she began. "You saved his life."

Draco nodded. "Yes," he said simply.

"But there's a price isn't there? It was for me so I'll have to pay it. What do you want?" She wished her voice wasn't shaking, but it was not exactly a pleasant feeling, being in debt to a Malfoy.

Then Draco's arms were around her, pulling her in close. She felt a thrill of surprise run through her, surprise and something else. Without thinking, she leant in to his kiss, allowing herself to enjoy it. Suddenly she came to her senses and pulled away, not completely, but away from his kiss. He let her and kissed her neck gently. "I love you, Hermione," he muttered into her ear.

She jumped back, surprised. She had never thought he'd say that to her, no matter what he might feel. But then she'd never thought he'd have thrown away his family alliances to protect Harry because she wanted him too, either. Her name sounded strange on his lips, a far cry from the way he used to address the Mudblood friend of his bitter rival.

He seemed to understand the complexity of the decision he'd just asked her to make because for once he didn't rush her, just stood perfectly still and straight and looked her in the eye, saying nothing but asking so much.

She thought about everything that had happened over the last week and a half, how Draco had helped her, how he'd hurt her. She thought about everything he'd done over the last six and a half years and then about how she'd felt when he and Harry and been fighting.

"I don't know," she finally managed weakly.

Draco's eyes flashed. "Hermione, I've just thrown away everything I have ever wanted to make you happy, do you realise that? All I used to want was to be Lord Voldemort's right hand man, like my father is now, to marry a suitably rich, pureblood, Slytherin girl and to be happy in our mansion with our wealth, doing my lord's bidding. You made me throw all that away and throw it away for a 'don't know.'"

She took a deep breath. "Draco, it's not that I don't feel anything for you, I do. And if I didn't know better I'd think it was love, but love is based on trust and whatever I feel for you, Draco Malfoy, I don't trust you."

For a brief moment his eyes were alive with grief and anguish at that last sentence, then his whole face closed down, up came that smooth mask he had used to wear so often.

"Why not?" he asked, his voice hard and toneless.

Hermione's heart tightened painfully. My God, she thought. I've lost him, he offered and I've turned him down and now I've lost him, Oh God, God! Somewhere inside her, she knew she was crying - crying deep, bitter, shaking sobs that did nothing to relieve the pain of the situation.

"Draco, you're dad is a Death Eater. More than that, he's Voldemort's right hand man. He made Ginny's life hell and he tried to kill Harry. How do I know..."

"That I won't turn out the same?"

Hermione nodded.

"You don't, if you're not willing to take my word for it."

"But..."

"Yes, I admit, that is all I used to want. But now..." he looked at her. "But now, I don't know. I mean, my dad is going to be arrested, and for all I know could end up in Azkaban. He's not there to drive me anymore. I don't know, I think I may have blown my chance with the Dark Lord in the last few hours, anyway. There's no pressure on me now, I guess it could I go either way. It depends."

It depends on me, she realised.

"Besides," Draco added in a lighter tone. "I understand your parents are muggle dentists, that doesn't mean I expect you're going to be one, does it?"

"You didn't kill him, though, did you?" she whispered after a pause, something having returned to her. "You couldn't do it."

Something like shame fluttered across Draco's face and seemed to settle on his shoulders. "No," he said heavily. "I couldn't. I would have made myself, I would have overcome those years of conditioning, I would! But I couldn't. It seemed fitting to let Potter do it."

He looked so desolate that she couldn't help putting her hand out to him. She gently touched his cheek and his hand shot out with those reflexes she remembered from before and held hers.

There was one more thing she wanted to hear him answer. "You've tried to hurt me and my friends at every opportunity over the last six years." She tried to keep her voice steady but she couldn't look at him. Why am I doing this? she wondered. I want him; I know I do, so why am I trying to make him go?

"And you three tried to hurt me just as much. Can't we call it even?"

She could feel her resolve melting, feel herself inching back towards him, feel herself longing for another kiss.

"But, Harry..." she whispered.

Draco laughed bitterly. "Ah yes, the Boy-Who-Lived, of course. Only still living because of me, because of you." He sighed. "But some alliances you can't stretch without shattering them." His glance took in Wormtail's corpse and his father's stunned form, and then seemed to turn his mind from his own problems, back to Harry. "He would never accept me, would he? Or you if you were with me?"

"I don't know. Would you accept him if he were with Blaise or Pansy? Would you ever forgive her for the betrayal?" She was almost speaking into his shoulder now.

Draco shook his head sadly. "But he's not me, is he? Do you think..." his voice trailed away.

Hermione's smile was just as sad as she said with all the strength she could muster, "I won't shatter that alliance, I won't. Just because I didn't know what it meant when I became his friend doesn't mean I'll leave him now. I can't."

"I know." There was expression in his eyes again. Frustration that he had yet again failed to beat Harry; that Harry had what he wanted and took it almost for granted. There was tenderness too, tenderness for her, and an envy that she felt more bound to Harry then she did to him, despite all his efforts.

Once she would have wondered if he simply wanted to have something that meant a lot to Harry, but she was surprised to realise that she didn't believe that now. She believed Draco loved her. If things had been different she felt sure she'd have admitted that she loved him back, despite what she'd said, but there was Harry, there was always Harry. She sighed.

Suddenly everyone became aware of a commotion coming done the hall, footsteps, and voices. Hermione felt Draco tense warily and reached for both his sword and his wand. She reached for hers and was almost surprised to find that her arms were around Draco and even more surprised to find that they wanted to stay there, where they felt right. But, reluctantly, she followed the lead of the others, disentangling herself and drawing her wand.

They stood before the door, hearing the footsteps get louder. Hermione felt her stomach clenching at the thought of the Death Eaters she was sure were about to break through. Then a thought broke through the scared fog that clogged her brain, the portkey.

"The portkey," she shouted. "We could get away."

"Too late for that." It was Ron's voice, she barely had time to register that before the door burst open and half a dozen wizards burst in. They were not wearing the Death Eater robes but it was too late to stop the spells that were already spilling from their lips.

"Stupefy!" The cry burst from them before they could stop it and the Aurors fell through the door. Hermione had started over to revive them when Harry grabbed her arm.

"You can't, we have to get Sirius out," he hissed "I can hear more coming, they'll take him back to Azkaban."

Hermione felt fear grip her again. It had melted with the realisation of the comforting presence of Aurors, but returned with a vengeance. She could see the same fear mirrored in Harry's face, but it was clearer. The injustice of it all made her angry. She couldn't bear that Harry would lose his godfather, his closest tie to his dead parents, after all they had done to save him in third year. Besides, she liked Sirius.

She glanced across and saw Sirius changing from man to dog in agitated flicks. His face, when she could see it, was as scared as Harry's. She knew they had to get him out and not just for Harry's sake.

"Quickly," she said. "Ginny, give Sirius the invisibility cloak. You can't stay in your Animagus form, Sirius, the Aurors may know about it by now. We can't take the chance."

He nodded and took the silver cloak from Ginny. Sirius tried to smile reassuringly at their worried frowns but the smile flicked and fell when it met Harry's eyes. Then, in a very un-man-like gesture, he gave Harry a swift hug and Harry smiled shakily and pulled the cloak up around Sirius's head.

The sounds were getting closer down the corridor. Hermione fumbled frantically with the catch on the portkey box. Finally, she managed to get it open and revealed the little red bound book. Sirius's hand emerged and wavered over it.

"How will you get back if I take this, though?" he asked, concerned.

"The same way the Aurors will, of course," answered Harry, impatiently. Sirius started to argue again, but before he could get much more then a grunt out, Harry had seized his hand and pushed it down onto the portkey.

Just in time.

"What happened here?" asked a loud voice from the door and they all turned like guilty schoolchildren (which is exactly what we are, thought Hermione) to look at the Auror who stood in the doorway. He was huge, tall and broad with short grey hair and an air of command. He seemed to be in charge of the men and women who were seething around behind him.

Hermione watched in a daze as Ron went over to talk to them and explained what was going on. They were capable wizards, used to unusual situations, and within minutes they had the still unconscious Lucius bound and under arrest and were examining Wormtail's body.

* * *

The trudge back to the school seemed to be quicker then it had been coming, but maybe it is, Hermione thought, without Voldemort's power to twist it, and with Draco and Elizabeth with us, who knows. Distance here is confusing.

She and Draco walked side by side, slightly behind the others because Draco seemed to want to walk beside his father's stretcher. That in itself made Hermione wonder what would become of them, because if Draco was still going to take his father's advice then he certainly wasn't going to end up with a mudblood as a girlfriend.

She glanced forwards to where Ron was enjoying the company of the three silvery-blonde haired girls and she smiled, wondering if Fleur remembered Ron asking her to the Yule Ball. She was sure Ron did. Harry and Ginny were walking slightly away from the others too with their heads close together. As she watched, they stopped and waited for herself and Draco to catch up.

Harry looked like he wanted to go join Ron as they approached but Ginny kept a tight hold on his arm and said something sharply, as he nodded unhappily.

Draco shot a quizzical glance at Hermione and she shrugged, hoping that whatever Harry wanted to talk about he and Draco at least would not reach open warfare over it.

"Malfoy." Harry held out his hand. "You saved my life. Thank you."

Draco stared at the proffered hand. Hermione looked at him pleadingly. Finally he sighed and took it. "I didn't save it for you, Potter."

Harry's eyes flicked at Hermione. "I know."

"Good."

"But I don't intend to become bitter like Snape." Draco blinked in surprise. "You know about that, don't you?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded. "I just didn't know that you did."

"I owe you. I don't deny it, and I don't want to stay in your debt. Tell me what I can do and we'll call it quits."

Draco shook his head. "There's only one thing I want, Potter, and I can't have her because of you."

Their eyes met and as always there was an electric tension there, each watching to see if the other would back down first. Finally Harry said slowly, "What?"

"Potter, if you've guessed why I saved you, then you can guess what I want now." Again, both pairs of eyes darted to Hermione. She noticed Ginny was looked very puzzled. She herself glanced down at her feet, watching them crunch over the diamond sand.

"I can't give that to you, Malfoy. That's her choice."

"I know it is or at least it would be if she didn't feel obliged to put your prejudices above her own happiness."

"You're a fine one to talk about prejudices, Malfoy. Anyway, we're friends."

"So you should want her to be happy."

There was a pause.

"Harry, you two can talk about this in a minute, but right now, will you let me talk to you for a minute?" Hermione asked, somewhat tentatively. "Alone," she added seeing the hopeful look in Ginny's eyes.

"Of course, Herm," Harry agreed. Then he turned to Draco, "If you..."

Draco cut him off with a smile of genuine amusement, "Don't worry, Potter. I won't lay a finger on your girl."

Harry nodded, kissed Ginny's cheek and whispered something in her ear that made her smile and nod. Then he allowed Hermione to drag him a little way apart.

As soon as they were out of earshot, he turned to her, his smile dropping, concern in his eyes. "Hermione, what are you doing?"

She tried to smile weakly. "I don't know."

Harry frowned. "This is Malfoy we're talking about."

"Draco," she whispered.

"Oh."

"Harry, I won't say that he's not that bad, because I know you'll never believe that, but he does care about me."

"And you believe him?"

"Yes, I really do, although I never expected to be saying this about Draco."

She saw him wince slightly at her use of the first name, but if he was going to get used to it he was going to have to hear it. Harry looked unconvinced.

"Ron trusts me to make the right decision, Harry, why can't you?" she continued. "If I decide I want to be with Draco, Ron will accept it, because he'll accept me whatever I do. He may not like Draco, but he'll be civil and polite for my sake."

"You want me to be like Ron? You want me to accept Draco Malfoy?" Harry's tone plainly said that he did not understand.

"You yourself have reason to be grateful that Ron is so accepting. There aren't many big brothers who'd let their best friend be with their little sister without a man-to-man talk at the very least. He trusts you. He trusts me."

"And now you're asking me to trust you?"

"Yes."

"I can't stand by and watch him break your heart."

"It's too late for that, Harry. If I don't try, I'll be just as hurt. Let me take my chance. You've trusted me with your life, before. Now, just trust me with me own feelings."

He sighed, "Alright, since you put it like that. But, Ron and I'll be there if it... goes wrong."

"I know, because you're my friends." She hugged him quickly and ran back to Draco and Ginny, who were walking in a rather uneasy silence.

* * *

Harry felt he'd seen few things as welcome in his life as the door back into the Hogwarts hospital wing. It seemed to loom out of the surrounding grey rock and diamond sand like a beacon of warmth and comfort.

He felt Ginny's hand tighten in his as she saw it. Ron, Gabrielle, Elizabeth and Fleur were waiting in the crowd of Aurors to be allowed through, and he smiled at them in relief.

Behind them there was a column of the Death Eaters who'd been captured, watched closely by the fifty or so Aurors who'd been called into the huge operation. At the head of the column were the two stretchers, one holding Lucius' unconscious form, the other holding Wormtail's corpse.

In was only minutes, but it seemed like hours before they were allowed through into the Hospital Wing. Harry looked up and saw Dumbledore's twinkling gaze fixed on him, before he and Ron were soon enveloped in fussing people. They realised they had had no idea how tired they were until they arrived back to the torch lit school.

Seeing the state they were in, Madame Pomfrey ordered everyone out - teachers, Aurors and students alike. Harry watched in a daze as Hermione and Draco walked through the door together (earning a raised eyebrow from Madame Pomfrey) and the Aurors brought the stretchers through. It seemed some were staying to talk to Dumbledore, but the others were taking the captured Death Eaters to a secure location.

Harry realised that perhaps now that they had Wormtail's body, Dumbledore might be able to come up with evidence to clear Sirius. That would be good, he thought sleepily as Madame Pomfrey hustled them into bed and passed around draughts of dreamless sleep potion. Harry noticed tiredly that it was the same potion as Ginny had given him.

He smiled across at her. She understood and smiled in return. He looked at her, cradling Mistoffelees (who had been waiting in the Hospital Wing for them) against her chest, her red hair tousled, her freckled cheeks just tinged with colour, and felt a thrill of happiness go through him. I'm lucky, he realised. I'm very lucky.

Then sleep claimed him.

* * *

Hermione slowly came awake. She lay for a moment, looking up at the plain white ceiling, awash with red light from the window. It's sunset, she realised, dreamily. I've slept all day. That might explain why her mouth was paper dry, but even so, she felt very peaceful as her mind slowly caught up with what had happened.

She turned her head and saw who was in the bed to her left. It was Ron, still asleep, but with his covers half thrown off, exposing one freckly leg. His arm was stretched across the pillow and he was muttering to himself in his sleep.

She got up and straightened his duvet until he was covered warmly again. Since she was up, she decided to get something to drink from the jug on the stand by the window. She glanced at the occupant of each bed as she passed.

They were all there. Harry was sleeping deeply, his face set in a determined frown, his hand clenched around his wand (which Ginny had returned). She stood for a moment looking down at the way his black hair swept across his pale forehead, exposing his scar. She still felt overwhelmed at the danger he'd survived so far and wanted to keep him near, but he was sleeping peacefully, so she moved away.

Ginny was smiling slightly in the bed next to Harry's, her hand resting in Mistoffelees's thick fur. Hermione petted the cat's head as she passed; he was stretched out at Ginny's side.

On Ginny's other side, Elizabeth was curled up in a tight ball; it seemed a protective, defensive position. She remembered how long it had taken Harry to stop sleeping curled up, after spending his childhood sleeping in the cupboard-under-the-stairs.

Fleur was lying flat on her back, her silvery hair perfectly fanned out. Hermione grinned wryly, she herself had been too tired to restrain her hair the night before and it now resembled a bush more then anything else. She remembered how jealous she'd been when she first met Fleur, when she'd seen how Ron looked at her. She'd known she could never look that perfect. Now she knew that would never matter.

In the second to last bed, Gabrielle was sleeping restlessly. She was cuddling the pillow to her and Hermione could see that her face was tearstained. The sight made her frown.

She passed by the last bed without looking at it. She didn't want to think about its occupant yet. With a trembling hand she poured herself a glass of water, draining it at once, then filled it again and began to drink more slowly. A movement behind her made her turn. Draco was waking.

She crept to the edge of his bed and watched as his pale lashes flickered in his sharp-featured face. He moaned softly and rolled over, then his eyes snapped open. She found herself staring into them and smiled gently. He sat up carefully.

"How are you?" Hermione asked brightly.

Draco yawned, then smiled sleepily at her. "You're very cheerful this morning."

"It's hardly morning. It must be around dinner time, the sun's setting."

He frowned momentarily, then heaved himself up and out of bed. He crossed to the window and stood for a moment, looking out at the blazing sky. She went to join him, noticing how lovely the red light made him look, staining his skin and making his hair glistened almost bronze.

She stood leaning against the cold window, as Draco stared, unseeing, out at the school grounds. She could see his mind slowly finding the memories from the day before. He looked strangely sad and confused. She could never remember seeing him look remotely like this.

"What is it?" she asked him, softly.

"Have you made up your mind, Hermione?"

Hermione paused for a moment, but only moment, before she nodded. Slowly she reached out and took his hand, threading her fingers through his. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face as it dawned on him what she meant.

"What about Harry?"

"Harry has agreed to trust me."

"Do mean...?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I love you, Draco."

Draco leant forward and kissed her gently. She realised it was the first time she hadn't pulled away from his kiss. She felt his love washing around her like the fading sun's final rays and realised that she was happy.