To Be a Hero

To Be a Hero

By Inwitari

"True heroes are the people that do what needs to be done, in spite of the consequences."- Author unknown

"The night will come and rip away,

Her wings of innocence through every word we say,

Maybe it's time,

To spit out the core of our rotting union,

Hopefully before it chokes us to our senses."

Draco Malfoy sat precariously on the ledge of the owlery, a sheer fifty-foot drop below him. His golden hair swirled in the breeze as his grey eyes stared unblinkingly into the horizon. The golden feathered owl stood on Draco's arm, gazing towards the sunset in imitation of his master.

Draco sighed in vexation as the sun took its time descending in a haze of blood red and impressive orange. Not long now. He heard a noise at the door, his body turned in one fluid motion, as he adopted his usual arrogant pose. Even when a small nudge could send him spiralling to his death, Draco still managed to look haughty and in control.

A Hufflepuff first year stepped into the owlery, took one look a Draco, gave a strangled squeal and ran away as fast as his short legs could carry him. Draco gave a snort and returned to his staring match with the darkening sky. Hufflepuffs were a waste of time.

He wanted to stand and pace, but that was too uncomfortable a gesture for a Malfoy to make. The Mark on his arm gave a slight twinge of pain. Draco winced.

Night came, too slowly, and yet too quickly. The moonlight glinted in the striking owl's eyes before he set off in flight, searching for prey that only his sharp eyes could detect in the gloom. Draco watched the owl swoop and blend into the darkness. A hand tapped him on the shoulder.

Draco jumped, startled and almost fell from the ledge. Hermione realised her mistake and grabbed his arm, "I won't fall. No thanks to you." Draco intoned sarcastically, swinging himself around to step onto the solid ground of the owlery. He found that he was numb from sitting all day.

Hermiones' eyes were downcast, and she looked so beautiful, a bright beauty that shone through the shadows of the night.

"Guess it's too bad,

That everything we have

Is taken away."

"I summoned you here..."

"Summoned me?" Hermiones' defiant brown eyes challenged him, her frizzy hair fizzling with an electricity that only came when she was annoyed. He could see the sparks that lay behind her eyes, her body screamed anger, her fists balled, she had drawn herself up to her full height. Draco wanted to smirk, she looked so good when she was angry.

He shook his head to clear his treacherous thoughts, which Hermione took as acquiescence. Her muscles loosened and she tilted her head to look him in the eyes, "You haven't been sleeping."

"That is none of your concern." Draco enunciated bitingly, turning his head away.

"Swim in the smoke,

The hero will drown,

Intoxicating beauty tears everything down."

"What's the matter with you, Draco?" Her voice was conflicted, conveying both compassion and annoyance. Hermiones' eyes bore into him, looking into his very soul. Draco felt ripped apart.

"It's over, Granger." He allowed himself a smirk, "I have found a new plaything."

The silence was deafening. Hermiones' mouth dropped in shock and her legs suddenly seemed a lot weaker than they had been a few moments before.

"Plaything?" she whispered, "Was that all I was to you?"

"You didn't honestly think I loved you." Draco said apathetically. When Hermione didn't answer his lips quirked upwards in a smile, "Stupid Mudblood," Draco laughed.

"You're such a bastard, Malfoy!"

"I'm completely legitimate, actually."

"But still our hands are bound at the wrist,

This romantic tragedy is suffocating from your fist,

In a sea of fire."

Hermiones' eyes filled with tears as overpowering fury brimmed in her chest, her fists were balled again before she hit Draco with as much force as she could muster. All the energy that had been drained from her legs seemed to have been transferred to her arms, Draco's lip was bleeding. Hermione's eyes shot fire, and Draco felt that he would be choked by the smoke of her passion.

Hermione was always the passionate one; it was a thing he envied, and as she strode out of the owlery that night he had never wanted to hold anyone so much, or so little.

"Guess it's too bad,

That everything we have

Is taken away."

~*~

The war took a lot of things from Draco, it took away his prejudice, arrogance, wealth, family status, freedom and his one true love. He sat on the damp stone floor of the "Improved Azkaban"; dignity forgotten, grey eyes staring unblinkingly into the horizon. In the distance he could almost imagine a golden-feathered owl swoop and blend into the oncoming darkness. A hand tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hero, Hero, this word you'll never know."

Harry Potter the Hero, come to gloat, Draco expected. He scoffed, Harry Potter would never know what it meant to be a Hero. Harry had made sacrifices, yes, but losing parents he never even known was nothing compared to knowing what you had given up. Draco had held perfection in the palm of his hand and had selflessly pushed her away to keep her safe, he had risked his life every day gathering information for Dumbledore and in return received disdain, hatred and suspicious glances from the people he was working to save. Only Dumbledore had known Draco was a spy, a secret he carried to the grave.

Draco cocked his head to the side and watched Harry with folded arms, "What do you want Potter?"

Harry smiled eerily, "Just making sure your cell is secure. We don't want you escaping on us now before the Dementors get to give you a lovely big kiss."

Draco shivered involuntarily. The war had changed Harry, and not for the better.

Harry pointed his wand at the bars at the window where Draco sat and tried a few simple spells. Then he knelt down to check that the bars were still secure. Draco rolled his eyes, what was the point in Potter using magic to test the bars? Draco didn't even have a wand!

"Just making sure." Harry smirked. Draco jumped as he felt Harry probe into his mind. His instantly put the barriers in place as his father had taught him. Harry laughed, "Not that I suspect there's much going on in that peroxide blonde head of yours, Malfoy."

"I'm a natural blonde, actually." Draco drawled sarcastically.

"Good to see you haven't changed a bit, Malfoy." Harry said, giving Draco a kick in the ribs with his foot. Draco clutched his side and groaned as he received another kick, cutting his lip. Draco struggled for breath and as stars began to appear in front of his eyes he heard her voice, piercing through his heart.

"Harry, love? Are you in..." Hermione stopped in her tracks, seeing Draco on the floor at Harry's feet. Draco looked up to be almost blinded by the dazzling diamond ring on Hermione's left hand. Tears threatened to spill as Hermione and Draco's eyes locked, and each found themselves unable to look away.

Harry's expression quickly changed to a light and cheery one, it seemed unnatural in the dreary surroundings, "Damn Malfoy tried to hit me." Harry laughed, "Like he could get out of this place even if it did manage to knock me out. Ah well, he won't have to worry about escaping soon anyway."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked tentatively, afraid of the answer, not taking her eyes off Draco. He looked so vulnerable lying there, his eyes big, tear-filled and pleading, his lip bleeding in the same way it had the day he destroyed her passionate spirit. Now she followed Harry Potter, a pawn he moved at will, her opinions silenced, her once free soul shot down from improbable heights in order to be chained to earthly regions, the ring on her finger pulling her down like a millstone*.

"Come on, Herm, I'll tell you all about it," Harry said, ushering Hermione out of the cell and locking it behind them. The clanging of the bars jerked Draco to his senses, jumping up painfully due to broken ribs and panting slightly, he ran to the cell door, shouting, screaming, crying in vain through the strong steel bars, "Hermione! Hermione!" He sank to his knees, still calling out for the only person he had ever loved.

"Guess it's too bad,

That everything we have

Is taken away.

Away, away, away.

They're taking it away."

Draco was still calling for Hermione when the Dementors kissed him, although his voice was hoarse and it came out as barely a whisper. Harry Potter looked on, the only approved audience, a satisfied smirk playing on his face... and in the corner of the darkened room the helpless eyes of a bright beauty shone through the shadows of the oncoming night.