The Final Battle

The Final Battle

Chapter One: Secret Meetings

Hermione paced the edge of the glen, awaiting Draco's arrival. It had been one week already since she'd caught him spying on her. June had just begun, and things had gotten rather complicated in such a short amount of time. Voldemort seemed to want to attack Hogwarts for the final battle between him and Harry, and it was difficult to find some time to escape to the glen. Of course, Hermione no longer went alone: she always had Draco to go with her. But trying to plan a convenient time between them to go was nearly impossible.

There were all sorts of rules about wandering the grounds, or even the castle, now that the final and most dire stages of the War had begun. Students were instructed to stay in the common room from eight o'clock onwards now that exams were over. They'd already lost a few students to the War. Ernie Macmillan's family had been attacked in their home the summer before their seventh year began. His body was the only one recovered, lying spread-eagle in the kitchen, a victim of the Killing Curse. Colin Creevey's little brother Dennis had been kidnapped the summer before Colin was to start his fifth year. He'd gotten his Hogwarts letter with a Prefect badge, and the next day his brother was gone. They'd never found his body.

But the new rules on Hogwarts didn't stop students from trying to have a little fun. Ron had all sorts of tricks and treats from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, where his brothers were racking in good business even during the War. Ron and Ginny would hand out sweets and jokes all night, selling them for half price, seeing as how they were discount items. Even Harry would join in on some nights, although he was still moody and irritable. Ron and Hermione rarely saw him with all the training Dumbledore was giving him, but it gave Hermione plenty of opportunity to snatch his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk and disappear off to the library.

Today though, was a warm Sunday afternoon, the weekend following their last NEWTS examination. Draco and she rarely had any long amounts of time to talk, and he'd been nagging her at late nights in the library to set a time for them to go to the glen and talk again. But now that examinations had ended and the new rules had been set up, they were finding it as hard as ever to even get a minute of each others time without anyone getting suspicious.

For the last week, Draco had been acting like a ghost, pulling Hermione into hidden corridors behind tapestries in the blink of an eye. It had scared Hermione at first, not knowing who was grabbing her. She'd automatically reached for her wand, but Draco had turned her towards him, and she'd merely slapped him on the arm. After awhile she'd gotten used to it, and flowed with his movements into the darkness of wherever he happened to pull her in that particular moment.

Suddenly, she heard a twig snap outside the glen and halted, her balance poised and her body alert. A flash of silver hair through the foliage told her that Draco had arrived. She calmed down, turning so that she faced him when he entered.

"We're you followed?" she whispered, as soon as she saw him at the entrance.

He shook his head and peeled off his robe, laying it on the ground next to hers. The summer days were warm, and it looked as if he had run here. "No one followed me, but I had to hurry to get away from Goyle before he could ask questions. You're really bad with sending me messages on when to meet you here. Why the urgency, anyway?"

She answered him with a straight face. "I Binded Harry's and Ron's legs to the chairs in the common room. The spell will only hold for two hours. They weren't really aware that I'd done it since they were playing chess, but when they go to move they won't be too happy. Those chairs are too heavy to travel."

Draco nodded, accepting this answer from her no matter how un-Hermione-ish it sounded. But when he looked at Hermione again his face was stern. "Have you told them?" he asked.

Hermione shrunk away, taking a few steps backwards and fiddled with her hands. "Oh, Draco...you know it's not easy. And you've seen Harry lately, he snaps at everyone and he's constantly training, and Ron always sides with him and -"

"I asked for a simple answer, not another one of your usual excuses," Draco remarked. Hermione cast her eyes downward. "But I have seen Potter's temper flare more often lately," he continued softly, so she'd stop looking so guilty. Then he added, "I miss tormenting him, you know."

Hermione smiled, laughing to herself quietly. "Well, neither him nor Ron have figured out that you're absent from their daily list of annoyances. I'm glad you followed my instructions."

"I'd never meddle with the smartest witch in the school. I might lose my gorgeous hair."

"You're so vain," Hermione retorted. Draco flashed her one of trademark smirks. He sat down then on top of his cloak and propped his body up with his hands behind him. Hermione followed suit a minute later, folding her legs at her side and using her hand as leverage.

"You do plan on telling them though?" Draco asked, sounding a bit worried. "Before the War begins, right?"

Hermione turned her head and looked at him. "Of course...but they're not going to take it well. It's so hard to get them to even pay attention to me, because they think I'm going to nag them about their study habits."

"You do though. You're always nagging." Draco put up an arm in defense against her swatting hand.

"I do not nag!" Hermione retorted. "Besides, it's Harry and Ron. Someone needs to remind them to complete their homework!"

"That's nagging," Draco replied, shrugging in indifference.

"Oh, quiet you," she shushed. Draco smirked at her reply, but strangely didn't say anything back.

In the past week they'd only been able to visit the glen together once on a particularly gloomy Wednesday after their Charms Exam. So instead of the glen, they'd met at late nights in a back corner of the library, although this offered less privacy than they were looking for. The library was where Hermione had studied during the week of N.E.W.T.S examinations. Harry and Ron always retreated off to the common room at earlier hours anyway, so she was left to her own devices. Draco would stroll in and head down the aisles of books to where she always was. And then they'd talk until Madam Pince would scold them for being up so late.

The first time Hermione had found Draco standing in front of her table in the wee hours of the night she'd been quite alarmed. She'd forgotten for a moment that only yesterday afternoon he'd discovered her grove and she'd let him inside. Now, here he was again, standing before her, confusing her senses and making her uneasy.

It took Hermione a moment to drop back to earth and act normal. "Either sit or stand, the choice is yours of course," she told him as he stood over her table, blocking her light and glaring at her parchment of notes.

Draco didn't say anything, knowing he had caught her off guard by finding him here. With a smirk upon his face, he pulled out the chair across from her and sat down in it, lounging his legs underneath the table.

"Always here at this hour of the night, Miss Granger?" he drawled quietly.

Hermione paused in what she was writing. She raised a single eyebrow and eyed him curiously. The way he had said her name was peculiar, but better than the other names he used to call her.

Draco snatched one of her spare quills and twirled it in his fingers. He tickled the tip of his pointy-nose with it, staring out the starry windows of the early morning.

"How the bloody hell can you stay in the library all night?" Draco rasped. Hermione slyly grinned as Draco continued his little tirade. "There are so many boring bed-time stories you'd be bound to fall asleep in no time. But you - you're always in here, and you're always awake."

"Jealous are we, Malfoy?" Hermione didn't look up to see the single arched eyebrow on his pale face. She continued scribbling across her parchment, the noise of the quill making Draco's eyelids droop. He tried to stifle a yawn, but failed miserably. Hermione, noticing his struggle to hide the yawn out of the corner of her eye, smiled.

"What are you doing here anyway, Draco?"

Draco's eyes widened, but not enough to give away his surprise. He hadn't just heard her call him by his proper name, had he? He asked, just to make sure. "You just called me Draco...didn't you?"

Hermione paused. Draco eyed her, refusing to take his eyes off of her. Slowly, her quill was lowered and her eyes were raised to look at him. Her face was expressionless. Draco's were questioning. Neither of them said anything for a moment.

Finally, Hermione shrugged. "So?" And then she leaned back over her parchment and continued scribbling.

Draco pondered this for a moment. So they were on first name terms. Since when? She was still the smart, studious witch he'd always referred to as Granger the damned Mudblood. Of course, minus the "Mudblood" part now. But she'd - Hermione - she'd just called him Draco. No more surname basis? He'd been shocked enough by her allowing him entrance into her grove. Either she was more trusting of people than she ought to be, or she saw something trustworthy in him that he sure couldn't see.

Struggling to remain his demeanor, he began fiddling with her spare quill again, rustling the brown plumage across his check in an absentminded fashion. Hermione paid him no mind until she looked up and found Draco leaning back in his chair fast asleep. The quill was still poised underneath his lip, his hand against his shoulder, the other listlessly at his side. Hermione stretched her leg out underneath the table and found his legs beneath her own chair.

Smiling to herself and trying to hold back her laughter, she attempted to tap his knee and awake him. But he wouldn't budge. Nudging him harder with her toe, she hoped this would work. Alas, it didn't. She didn't want to get up and shake him, but he seemed to be deep into his slumber. She was tempted to call to him, but didn't know if she should try it with Madam Pince already angry because she spent such later hours here.

No, instead Hermione settled for rising from her seat to manually awake the damned Slytherin. She'd make him regret falling asleep! Tip-toeing to his side of the table, she stood next to him a moment, watching his breathing go in and out slowly, his chest barely heaving, and his lips opened ever so slightly. Leaning in closer to his face, she carefully placed both of her hands just above his shoulders, barely touching him. Then in the blink of an eye, Hermione pushed Draco over the side of the chair.

It would have worked perfectly if Draco hadn't awoken so startled and had grabbed Hermione's wrists in shock. As he fell, he took her with him, both of them landing on the floor in a heap of robes. Little noise was made, thankfully, even though the floor was flagged stone and the chair had traveled with them, too. Draco landed awkwardly on his right side, and Hermione lay bent over his waist, her ankles wrapped around the legs of the chair that were no longer resting on the ground.

Draco blinked several times, attempting to understand why he was suddenly sprawled on the cold floor. Then he saw Hermione, her brown hair all over her face. Of the few facial expressions he could make out, she looked both surprised and outraged. When she had finally managed to crawl off of him (the chair made it difficult), and had pushed her hair back, she glared at Draco, who continued to stare innocently at her.

"What happened?" he asked. He honestly had no idea what had just transpired.

"You fell asleep." Hermione began to straighten out her robes.

Draco blinked again. "On the floor?" he asked, somewhat stupidly.

"No!" she huffed, untangling her foot from Draco and the chair. "I pushed you."

Draco should have been mad that she dared push him off of a chair while sleeping, but then he realized he'd already gotten even with her. She must have pushed him and he must have taken her with him on his fall, which is why she looked so displeased.

Draco had no time to begin laughing though, because Madam Pince came around through an aisle of books and saw them on the floor like that. Jumping to conclusions, she screeched at them to get out and find somewhere else to behave like children.

Throwing all of her belongings into her bag, Hermione and Draco departed, leaving a very disgruntled librarian to slam the door behind them, regardless of the late hour. They took one look at each other and at their disheveled appearances and the silent laughter began.

But just as quickly they departed, because footsteps were heard coming from around the corner. Draco grabbed Hermione's arm and pointed to a tapestry. Without words, she got the hint and ran behind it, snaking her way through the passage way and reappearing two floors up. When she emerged, she found Draco hot on her heels.

"Filch," was all he said. Hermione nodded, and suddenly began giggling again when she noticed Draco attempting to stifle a yawn. He gave in as well, and in good humor he rolled his eyes. Looking back down the passage way they had come, Draco snatched a giggling Hermione and steered her away.

"Where's your common room anyway?" Draco asked after they had turned a few corners.

Hermione had stopped giggling now, and, clutching her bag tighter, she looked at Draco seriously. "I'm not telling you," she said.

Draco shouldn't have been surprised by this, but he was. "And why not? How else do you expect me to lead you safely back to your common room if I don't know where it is?"

"You're a Slytherin," she said simply, as if this explained everything.

"Don't you trust me?" he asked.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, forcing Draco to halt suddenly so that he had to turn around and look at her. She had an odd look on her face, but what was really peculiar was the war going on behind her eyes. It was if she'd just now begun to register what had happened between them in the last two days. She seemed to be evaluating what to do and if she should trust him. In her heart, Hermione knew that, as strange as it was, she could trust him. It was the thought of Harry and Ron that made her leery, and how'd they react if they found Draco Malfoy outside the portrait hole one afternoon.

"Yes Draco," she said, "I do trust you." Draco looked relieved to hear these words, but knew there was more. "It's Harry and Ron I'm worried about," she continued.

Draco eyed her questioningly. "Would you tell them?" he asked quietly.

"What?"

"Would you tell - Potter and Weasely about me...you and me - as friends?"

Hermione thought this through for a moment. "Of course. Although I doubt they'd take it well. Even though your father..." Hermione paused, unsure of how to continue with that statement. "I'm - I'm sorry," she apologized, noticing the odd face that Draco had made at the mention of his father.

"Don't be," Draco interjected, quickly trying to cover what Hermione could only guess to be disgust. "He's dead, serves him right."

Both of them were silent for a moment. Hermione remembered when she had found out about Lucius Malfoy's death back before their sixth year at Hogwarts had begun. She'd gotten her Daily Prophet delivered to the house over the summer and had seen it broadcasted on the front cover. There was no mention of how he had died, and she wouldn't dare ask Draco. She'd seen him come back to school after the incident and he'd seemed changed, more cold and cruel, but also forlorn and abandoned. Hermione still wasn't sure how it had affected him.

"I...I know," she said quietly. "But Harry and Ron still wouldn't give you the time of day...we both know that. Even now that - even though your father is...is gone. It's simply childhood hatred, born from too many old stereotypes that won't go away. They still don't think you've seen the error of your ways. They assume you're just like your father."

Her words lingered in the air. Draco was silent for a moment, letting this sink in to his head. His eyes faced the wall, unwilling to look at Hermione for some reason. Her friends thought he was just like his father...even after everything that had happened since You-Know-Who came back. It shouldn't surprise him, nemesis' made in childhood were the most difficult to get rid of.

"Come on," Hermione said suddenly. She took a step towards Draco and grabbed the sleeve of his robe. "My common room is this way." And she promptly started dragging him in the other direction.

He followed willingly; they climbed a few staircases until they were on what he supposed was the seventh floor. Hermione stopped him in the middle of a corridor, looked around suddenly, and then pointed at a portrait.

"The entrance is behind that portrait - see the one I'm pointing to? See the fat lady in the pink dress? Yes, the gold framed one. That's the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Now leave." And she began pushing Draco the other way towards the staircases.

"What?" he asked.

"You didn't think I'd let you hear our password, did you? Time for you to go, I can walk the rest of the way. It's bad enough you know where our entrance is!"

"Well excuse me for being polite Hermione, but I didn't want Filch or his mangy cat to find you."

Hermione either tripped or stumbled, Draco wasn't sure which, but he heard a thump and the hands on his back disappeared. When he turned around to investigate, he saw Hermione sprawled on the ground, looking up at him with a bewildered expression of surprise.

"You really should stop trying to push me if it's going to end in these results," he drawled, bending down to hoist her back up to her feet. She reached an uneasy hand out to him, accepting his help. Once on her feet, she looked at Draco with her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Did you...you...did you just call me Hermione?" she stuttered.

It was now Draco's turn to eye her curiously. "You called me Draco earlier, didn't you?" he retorted.

"Yes," she said quickly, "but that was different." She still looked shell-shocked with her unruly hair even more out of place and her robes all crumpled from her multiple falls to the ground.

"And how is that different?"

Hermione looked at his face. "I...it...I don't know, it just is! You're Draco Malfoy! You have always called me some derogatory comment. You've rarely ever referred to me by my last name! And now - now, you just called me Hermione!"

Hermione finished off her charade with a few well meant deep breaths to regain her composure. Draco was smiling amusingly.

"Are you going to go back to the library now to look up the answers to your new riddle?" Draco asked, somewhat smugly. Hermione let loose on him by playfully swatting at his arm a dozen or so times. In the end, Draco was able to grab her wrist and nudge her as gently as he was able in the direction of her Common Room door while he departed for his.

"Don't think just because you now know where the Gryffindor entrance is you can hang out here all you like, Draco."

Draco smirked. "I wouldn't dream of it," he drawled sarcastically.

"Good. Because we both know Harry needs to let his bottled-up anger out on someone. You'd be asking for it if you dared come near him. We both know it would do you well to follow my advice and leave him alone. But it's a lot to ask of you to leave both my friends alone, isn't it?"

Draco merely winked, a silent promise that he'd try his best even though he'd perfected his technique long ago on the best strategies. He began walking away, still not taking his eyes off of Hermione. "When are we going to meet in the...you know - when will we go there again?" Draco asked before he headed down the stairs to his own Common Room.

Hermione began to turn away, but looked back once more and a slight smile was playing on her lips. "Owls are awfully helpful, aren't they?" And before Draco could utter another word, she ran up to her common room entrance, whispered the password and was admitted inside.

Draco meanwhile, continued to stand alone in the hallway.

"Hermione? Earth to Hermione..." drawled Draco, waving his hand slowly in front of her eyes.

Hermione blinked, falling back into herself and remembering that her current state of body was still in the grove with Draco. Not directing her eyes at him, she mumbled a quick "sorry."

"You should be," he retorted. "I've been sitting here talking to myself for these last ten minutes. It's rude to space out like that when someone is speaking to you."

Hermione turned and rolled her eyes at him. "I'll warn you the next time I decide to let my mind wander," she remarked sarcastically.

Draco surprisingly, decided he had no more to say on the matter. Instead he leaned forward, his grey eyes fixed on her in a serious matter. Hermione had seen that look in his eyes before. When she'd found him in her glen, he'd appeared to have taken off his cold and nasty exterior...but his eyes. They showed so little emotion that it was nearly impossible to read him.

Eyes are windows to the soul. Hermione had heard that expression once before. But Draco was a major exception. He must have had plenty of practice at hiding his true feelings. Only on rare occasions was Hermione able to understand a little of what was going on inside his head. Harry and Ron were so different - they showed their emotions in all sorts of ways. Draco on the other hand, he hid his deep within. Hermione figured it was taught to him as he was growing up. But there had been a few rare moments when she'd looked at him and had seen more.

Draco was fidgeting, something Hermione knew he rarely did and could only mean that he had something he wasn't sure how to say. So she waited patiently, watching him in an amused manner.

"What are you going to say to them?" he finally asked. His question was serious and his eyes sincere - that much was readable.

"To Harry and Ron?" she asked. Draco gave a slight nod. "I'm going to tell them the truth."

At this Draco's eyebrows arched up. "You may be the smartest witch at Hogwarts, but are you sure that's a wise decision?"

"They're my friends! Of course I'm going to tell them the truth!" Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, wondering why he'd say such a thing. It had been his idea that she tell them in the first place.

"So you're going to walk up to Potter and Weasley and tell them that you caught me spying on you, we yelled, we raved, and then we buried the hatchet?"

"Well when you say it like that -" Hermione began.

"They hate me, remember?" Draco added.

"They do not hate you." Hermione exasperated.

"I'm pretty sure Weasley does."

"Well if he did hate you he'd have a good reason! All you do is make fun of him!" She was grinning at him, knowing this was a losing battle.

"What, and you think Potter ignores my insults? He's not made out of rock you know. Although he does seem to be as dumb as one." Draco ducked backwards as Hermione's hand took another playful swat at his head.

"I will tell them, Draco, I promise," Hermione said, looking at Draco seriously. "Not just because you want me to. But because they're my friends and they deserve to know. I must admit I've been very bad about telling them things about me."

"Well I'm sure they'll be delighted to know that you and I have been sneaking off together to discuss friendship in a private and secluded place."

Hermione huffed. "Do you want me to tell them or not, Draco?"

Draco looked back at her, his face flax of emotion. "I'm just as worried as you are about how they are going to take this. Of course, they can just lock you in a closet and keep you from bad, bad boys forever. But me - they'll hang me by my toes and feed me to a chimaera."

"And here I thought you had gotten over your childhood fazes," Hermione muttered sarcastically. "When will all of you grow up?"

This time there was a certain look of pain Draco's pale grey eyes. Hermione immediately wished she could take back what she said, but Draco spoke before she did.

"Your friends will never trust me Hermione. We both know that. I will stop teasing them for your sake, but that doesn't mean I've gotten over wanting to annoy the living daylights out of the two of them - it's just been too much fun over the years. We all grow up in our own time...and in our own way."

Draco didn't say anything more, and they sat for a while in silence. In one week, Hermione had befriended Draco, trusting a man who had been her enemy for almost the last seven years. This was a man who had called her derogatory things, who made fun of her friends. A man...was he man? Hermione glanced at him. He sure didn't look like a little boy anymore. There was an angry coldness, something that reminded her so much of his father. But slowly she saw that it was beginning to melt, and that a person was actually living within. There was a maturity beginning to emerge.

But some things just don't change. In one week, Hermione knew that Draco would always hold back emotions, would always wear a façade, and would continue to be a cold and unreachable man unless he gave in to it. Hermione knew she'd seen a softer side of him, a side of him that was trying to get out. It hadn't been her imagination when she'd found him in her glen - he had been showing emotions, feelings that he wasn't aware he had even been feeling.

Hermione knew she couldn't find her answers in the library this time. Her and Draco were lost in this together, both of them attempting to understand what had happened one week ago. Draco had scared her then, coming into a hidden place, a sanctuary of hers...and she had accepted him. Draco had also surprised her in other ways. Hermione looked at him in different situations and saw a different person in each. Draco played a game, a test to see who could see through his disguise first. The winner received the man behind the mask.

But Hermione hadn't even played the game, and Draco had come into her glen and shown her.

"It's getting late, Hermione. We should go back," came Draco's voice from beside her. She glanced at him, watching as he stood up and retrieved his robe. He put out a hand to help her up and together they exited the glen, carefully looking around to see if anyone was nearby as they hid the evidence of their stay with their wands.

As they walked side by side on the trail, Hermione felt Draco's hand come up to rest on her back, a protective and kind gesture she was sure anyone would have done. But she knew he did it because they were alone and because he wasn't aware that he had done it. When the trail joined another trail that led back to the castle, they stopped.

"You go first," Draco replied. "I'll follow in a little bit. Hurry though, it's starting to get dark and your friends will wonder why you aren't at dinner. Go on."

Hermione stood there, a smile upon her lips as she nodded at Draco's demand. She started walking, and when she reached the hill, she turned back for one last look over the lake. Draco was half hidden in shadow, his silver hair reflecting the lakes rippling surface. In the blink of an eye though he was gone, having ducked back into the shadows to hide, knowing that she had seen him. Hermione turned and ran up to the front entrance, eager to find her friends.