Last Time... Last Night...

It was a full moon that night - if only the darkness that seemed to have befallen on everything didn't erase it from the sky. The clouds, blacker than the shadows, all covered the night. No light from the stars had managed to seep through the thick blankets hovering overhead. Only the lightning raging their wars against each other would reveal figures of towering trees and their ominous branches that seemed alive and ready to strike.

Hermione flinched when a storm of angry thunders rained amidst the haunting silence. Or maybe she refused to hear them. The frightened cries... The angry voices... The wave of wands... The duel of spells...

The war that had just begun.

With every flash of lightning, she could decipher figures all around her. All around them.

They were surrounded.

She closed her eyes but kept a firm grasp on her wand - pointing, on aim, ready. Maybe this was all a dream. A bad dream. It was all too frightening - like a nightmare - that it couldn't possibly be true.

"I don't wanna die," she whispered inaudibly to herself as she felt the eyes under those hoods staring at her - at them. "No. Not like this."

She gasped and opened her eyes when she felt something suddenly grab her hand. "We're going to get through this. I'm not going to let anything happen. Not again."

It was Harry. Harry and the pain in his voice. Harry and the guilt. The longing. The bitterness. It was Harry - still stained by the loss of the last person he considered his family from two years ago.

She looked up and into his eyes. And from then, she knew that he would be ready to put himself face to face with death just to save them all.

But seeing the sadness and determination in Harry's eyes just made it real for Hermione - that it wasn't a nightmare, a dream that she would soon wake up from.

It was real.

***

It was real when in a blink of an eye, shadows surrounded the Great Hall as hooded figures revealed themselves one by one through the door. A deafening silence hung in the air as each student and teacher drowned in shock and mystery of how they penetrated the walls of Hogwarts. But then, a number of students, whose allegiance was to the Dark Lord, had openly admitted where their loyalties lay...

Before the chaos broke.

"Ginny!" Ron yelled amidst the panic-stricken crowd.

"Where are you going?" Harry called to his friend as Ron squeezed himself against the crowd.

"Come with me," snarled a man as he grabbed Harry away from the chaos.

"No! Get off me!"

"They've come for you, boy!" Snape hissed under his breath as he looked at the boy in the eye. "Don't be a fool. When they catch you-- you might as well kill yourself now."

"No! I'm not going to hide. My friends need me."

***

"Ron," Hermione's voice shook. She strained her eyes and peeked around, searching for her friend. No. Not there. All she was with were Harry and other frightened students hoping this would all end soon.

She could still hear screams. Screams of pain. Screams of fright. And screams that halted almost immediately, signaling untimely deaths. It happened an hour ago. But in her mind, it was still very fresh.

Her breathing became uneven as her heart raced faster then she clutched Harry's hand even tighter. She looked around. They were still there - Death Eaters - surrounding them; towering shadows multiplying in numbers each time she turned. She knew they all came for Harry. But that wasn't an assurance that none of them came for her, too. After all, she was a Muggleborn. In their eyes - dirty, filthy, undeserving to live--

"Stay away!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. Her head was going to explode if she kept it bottled in any longer. "Stay away, you dirty, polluted devils!"

She barely heard Harry as he whispered her name to calm her down. But it was too much - she just wanted everything to stop.

However, it was her thoughts that suddenly stemmed in an instant. She let go of Harry's hand and stood firm with eyes transfixed on the lone hooded figure, who advanced halfway toward her.

"How dare you speak of polluted when you, Mudblood, do not even deserve treading on the ground I walk on!"

Hermione's throat went dry.

Lucius Malfoy. It was Lucius Malfoy.

She never hated any one as much as this tall, pale man standing in front of her. When he took another step, another shadow shifted uneasily at the back. Reluctantly, she turned away and looked past Lucius just to see the figure standing there, with his head up, that his face was barely hidden under the hood.

"Draco?" she wanted to say out loud; to cry out loud. But her lips seemed to quiver too much that she couldn't utter a word. No, not Draco. You promised me...

Hermione caught his eyes and though the blinding lightning refused to let her see him clearly--she was certain it was him. She could never mistake those eyes, that face, that man - even in this darkness.

For a fraction of a second, Draco stared back at her. But before another bolt of light flashed, he suddenly bowed to the ground and took his hood further down his face.

Lucius realized where Hermione's gaze had fallen. Then, in a sudden spite, he turned back to her. "You most certainly do not deserve mingling with someone whose veins run of pure blood!"

Another lightning.

It was too bright and blinding that Hermione swore it could've hit any one of them standing there. And then, the inevitable growling of thunder followed. It was just as deafening and monstrous that even the clouds whimpered - that the moon was able to peek through for five short seconds.

One. Hermione didn't know how far she had run. Everything was a blur as she tried to get away from the enemies. She had lost her friends in the Great Hall. And it seemed like she had been running for far too long before she found Harry. Now, she realized that they were standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Two. Death Eaters. They were everywhere. Surrounding, hunting, torturing... killing. Tormenting each and everyone in their way.

Three. Finally, she glimpsed on a couple of professors as they dueled with other followers of Voldemort. It scared her seeing the people she always knew who could keep them from harm were now struggling for their own lives.

Four... Her eyes fell again on Draco...

Her Draco...

Used to be.

She actually believed there was good in that heart. That though blood was thicker than water, evil didn't run in the blood. That he could still choose to do what was right - to be right. That he would keep his word that his destiny was not with Voldemort. That after all what had been said, what had been done... that he was different.

***

It was at the start of the seventh year.

Head Boy.

Head Girl.

Their time together started with the usual spite - of her being a Mudblood; and him being a close-minded stupid git.

But days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Defenses as high as the mountains could no longer go higher and their only way was down--or hold them and let them collapse... and say the things that could never be taken back.

"For crying out loud! Why do you insist on using the Prefects' Room to do your disgusting lustful acts?" Draco said in an exasperated tone, as he closed the door behind him. In three sweeping steps, he went and sat across Ronald Weasley, who was sitting beside Hermione.

"We're only catching up on our N.E.W.T.s, Malfoy," Hermione spat back, burning the Malfoy with her glare.

Draco raised an eyebrow and shrugged. And he stayed seated there, in his chair, looking at the two Gryffindors.

"You're such a stupid git!" Ron blurted out matter-of-factly when the Slytherin in front of him sniggered after he answered Hermione's question wrong, for the nth time.

Draco didn't bat an eye. Instead, he sat back further in his armchair, stretched his legs, and without warning, banged them on the low table in front of him - and in front of them - barely missing Ron's hand that was reaching for a quill.

"Fucking idiot! What was that for?!" Ron yelled as he stood up, reaching for his wand from the pocket of his robes.

"Alright. Stop it, you two!"

Draco, still lounging in the same position, turned to Hermione's now-standing figure. "I'm not doing anything to stop doing something. Freakin' redhead over there's the one flaming angry." He paused. He looked at the two Gryffindors and wondered himself. Why the sudden spite? Why was he wasting his time trying to break Ron Weasley's hand or infuriate Mudblood Granger? But then he said, "This is my space, too. So, I'll do what I want."

"That's it," Ron muttered. He grabbed his books and parchment from under Draco's feet and turned to Hermione. "I'm not going to spend another minute here breathing in the same space with that git. I'm going back to the tower."

***

Five. As the moon hid behind the blankets once more, a shadow - evil in its purest form - hovered. Hermione turned to look around as the Death Eaters retreated from their circle - they were making room.

The master had come.

The last bit of blood drained from her face. She shivered as it hissed and laughed at the same time - Voldemort, slithering its way to Harry.

"The boy..." it breathed, as it trudged on toward The Boy Who Lived. "Isss... Miiine..."

Hermione tried to hold on to her friend. But with one sweep of his wand, Voldemort threw the students in the air... leaving only Harry standing in front of him.

She lost grip of her wand and then landed on the ground with a thud. A numbing ache instantly filled her, feeling the broken bones of her right arm. "Harry!" she called as she failingly searched for her wand on the ground.

"Hermione, go!"

She wanted to call out again. But a figure was advancing toward her and looking down on her like she was a wretched cockroach. She backed away as she struggled to get on her feet. She couldn't save herself now. She couldn't even move her arm, leaving her utterly defenseless from the man that the one he once loved called a father.

Hermione got on her feet. She could see so much loathing in those eyes as they reflected flashes of light - of blue and red - from where Harry and his nemesis stood.

"Don't try to run now, Mudblood," Lucius' voice was steady and full of disgust.

She took a step back, almost tripping on a stray branch lying on the ground. She looked around almost desperately wishing someone would save her. Rescue her. Someone...

Lucius' evil laugh resonated in the air. "He's not coming to save you! My son is wiser than that now. Don't worry. This is going to be a short, painful death."

Before Lucius could even raise his hand, Hermione turned around and ran. Ran like she hadn't before. She never turned away from an enemy but the overpowering certainty of her death never loomed on her like this. So, deeper into the forest she went. But she could hear the shuffling of his feet keeping up with her.

***

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione demanded, closing the door of the Prefects' Room after Ron. She looked at the Slytherin blond, still comfortable in his armchair. She went back to the table and started collecting her things. "You are such a jerk! Can't you do anything else besides insulting my friends and me?! Why don't you go back to your dungeon, lock yourself up, and leave me alone for one second?!"

"My," Draco uttered, putting his feet back down on the floor, "aren't we feisty?"

"Malfoy, why don't you grow up? You're so insensitive sometimes."

"Insensitive?" the boy said in disbelief, finally getting up on his feet. "Maybe it takes one to know one, doesn't it?"

"Oh, I'm the one who's insensitive now? When you don't even know how to respect other people's privacy."

"What privacy? You were in the middle of the Prefects' Room and anybody could've walked in here."

"It's not just that. When I'm with Harry, you come and spite him out of nowhere. When I'm with Ron, you come and tick him off like it's your natural talent. For crying out loud, whoever I'm with, you go out of your way just to irritate the hell out of anybody!"

"What?"

"Just get it, will you?!"

Hermione turned to leave until--

"I get it. At least I get it. It wouldn't take a constant attention nor some sick dagger of words to realize the obvious."

"What are you saying?"

For a whole ten seconds, Draco and Hermione stared at each other as if trying to squeeze the truth out of the person in front of them. The truth - what lay beneath their masks that had protected them from each other from day one.

"See? So, maybe if I suddenly kiss you, you'd think that I just tripped on something and accidentally fell on your face, right?" Even he was surprised with what he said, that he suddenly decided to leave the room.

"What?" Hermione ran after Draco's retreating figure and grabbed him by the hand. "Huh... What was that?" she exhaled, not believing what she was hearing.

Draco suddenly couldn't meet her eyes. And for once, he stammered in articulating his words. "The W-Weasley apparently has a... thing for you. You c-couldn't even recognize that."

Hermione let go of him; half expecting that he would say something else. "We're just friends. I'm not staying here discussing about 'things,' Malfoy," she said, as she turned around, making for the door.

But he decided to call out again. "I was going to say maybe it would take an overrated bouquet of flowers followed by a sickening confession before you actually get it; but no, I think I'm saying that I'm leaving."

***

That was the day when all defenses collapsed and some things were said that could never be taken back. It was a miracle or a short absence of mind - but for Hermione, it was the only time she saw truth in him.

She brushed back tears welling in her eyes. She was supposed to be afraid knowing that this could be her last night. Afraid that the sun would not rise on her ever again. Afraid that any minute now, she would lose her balance, trip over and the uninvited death from Lucius' hand would finally catch up with her.

But she kept on running deeper into the forest, even with the images blurred with tears that greeted her wherever she turned. Why was it that Draco had to fill every part of her being in the worst of times? Why was she thinking of him when Ron was missing, when Harry was face to face with Voldemort - or when they could both be dead by now? Why Draco... when she just saw him reveal himself to her; that he was with the Dark Lord... with the Dark Lord after he promised...

To take care of her...

To love her...

To protect her...

***

"Draco, you're such an idiot!"

"It's the only way, Hermione. My father will kill you and your family if we continue this."

"Then, why, in the first place, you chose to have me in you life?"

Silence.

"Because... because I thought it wouldn't come to this. That if I turn back and defy him, everything will still be alright. I'm his son, he wouldn't do anything to me."

"But he will do something to me; my family. I'm not going anywhere, Draco."

"Don't be a fool, Hermione.

"And what do you want me to do? Watch you turn yourself into one of Voldemort's minions?"

"I've already told you - that's not going to happen."

***

But it did.

Seeing Draco as one of the hooded figures hidden behind the shadows tore Hermione apart - piece-by-piece. Slowly, the image processed itself - until now, sinking into the deepest core of her soul. Pricking every inch of her aching body.

The shuffling of feet continued. The cold air brushed her cheeks, scathing her skin with its frozen breeze. She kept on running without looking back at her pursuer. Only the slowly shortening distance between her and him, and the darkness were what were keeping her alive.

But her feet were starting to defy her. Her knees were begging for her to stop. Her legs yelled of pain. And she knew - one wrong step would finally send her to oblivion.

However, her adrenalin shot higher when she deciphered other pairs of footsteps. She didn't know how many or if there actually were. But the faster she ran, the more leaves rustled, signaling her enemies' approach.

She felt trapped. Not long now, her body was going to give in.

But before she was to give up, the night decided to give up on her...

She stopped running. She reached an end of the forest. Now standing at the edge of a cliff, she closed her eyes and swallowed.

"What are you going to do now, Mudblood?"

Hermione turned to her left and watched as Lucius stood in front of her, both of them side by side with the cliff. His wand was pointing straight at her chest.

The leaves continued their rustle. Even the clouds opened up again. And so clearly, she could see his face full of spite and disgust. She didn't want her end to be that night. But she wasn't about to beg for mercy from a person so vile... so evil. She raised her head and looked straight into his eyes.

***

"What if it happens? What if in the end, you choose to be on the evil's side? I'm sorry, but I'm scared, Draco."

Draco looked into Hermione's doubting eyes. It hurt him to see that she believed he would side with the Dark Lord. But the fact also lay that he couldn't very much assure himself, either.

"Then you're free to hate me."

Hermione looked at him in confusion. Was he just ready to give up everything? "That's it?"

"That's it," Draco replied without even as much as look at her, as he turned around and made for the door.

***

The uncertainty in his voice still haunted Hermione's thoughts. It wasn't until this moment that everything felt so concrete. Her love wasn't enough. She wasn't enough. Maybe evil really did flow in someone's blood - like fate. Like destiny.

"Just kill me now. Kill me fast," she muttered weakly, in a shaking voice. She saw Lucius raise his wand, and as a resignation, she closed her eyes and waited for death.

"Crucio!"

Hermione wailed in pain. She thought her whole body had already numbed completely from the icy wind and all the running. But this was worse. She fell to her knees, unable to bear the excruciating throb of every nerve in her body. She felt like every joint was being twisted and torn apart. It was too much. Just let me die! Just let me die! "Just kill me now!"

Lucius stopped the curse and for a while, looked at her. He stepped closer at her figure all coiled up in pain. He laughed contentedly as he watched in pleasure Hermione gasping for air. "Do you really think that after you made me chase you through all these, I won't seize the chance of watching you wither in pain before I finally kill you?" And so, with all the fury in him, he readied his aim again and pointed his wand at her.

"No!"

That was when the rustling of leaves stopped and the shadow that was part of Hermione's hallucinations materialized itself into the moonlight.

Still catching his breath, Draco Malfoy emerged from the dark, his wand pointing straight at the man he called his father.

Lucius glared at his son as the young Malfoy stood before him. His own flesh and blood. He lowered his wand, but without once taking his eyes off him. "Now, Draco, you don't want to get in my way."

"That's enough," Draco muttered, tightening his grasp on his wand. "You're going to have to go through me now."

"You dare defy me, son?" Lucius spoke as he advanced to his son, glaring at him.

For a second, Draco could see his own eyes that he looked away and turned to Hermione who was staring at him in shock. He only met his father's gaze once more when the elder Malfoy held his face with one strong hand and forced him to. He swore that he was being grasped so tightly that he could feel Lucius' fingers furiously burying themselves through his jaw.

"You dare go against me and the Dark Lord for some filthy Mudblood?!"

Draco felt his father's hand grasp harder that for some reason, he felt weaker. He was defying his father. The one who raised him... The one who nurtured him... The one who gave him life... he almost tripped backwards when Lucius released him, almost tossing him aside. He thought he had won as he watched his father take a step back and look at him with much displeasure in his eyes.

"Then, you're going to die with her!" And with one swift wave of Lucius' hand, Draco flew right into the air - away from Hermione.

Lucius watched as Draco hit the ground so hard that he was sure caused a broken leg. "You are not my son," he muttered under his breath with intense dislike, looking at the young man having a difficult time getting up. Now, to kill the Mudblood. "And you," he began, looking at the girl who stole his son's loyalty. And with abhorrence so clear in his voice, he raised his wand and pointed straight at her. "Avada Kedav--!"

***

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. Was she dead? It was as if the earth shook and it swallowed her. But if she was, then why, still, could she feel the tremendous pain of her body? She looked from where Lucius had stood and, instead, saw Draco. His feet were rooted just beside the cliff, with his wand pointing down on the ground, and the other hand holding another wand.

She tried to focus and realized that Draco caused the ground that Lucius was standing on to collapse. She stood up struggling between wishing that he didn't do it and wishing that it were true - that Lucius... was dead.

"Draco..."

Draco saw Hermione try to get closer to him but he stopped her when for the first time that night, he looked at her without any resistance in his eyes. "I'm marked," he said weakly, exposing the Dark Lord's symbol imprinted on his skin. He watched with torture seeing her perplexed and hurt expression. "Tainted, Hermione. From the very first day before I came back to Hogwarts." He cringed when Hermione backed away from him.

"You lied to me?" he heard her say, her voice barely a whisper. He saw her try to brush tears that were now incessantly flowing down her face. "Then why this?" she demanded in a shaking voice.

To escape from the clutches of my father... To finally put an end to this madness he put me into... For you... "Freedom." He paused. He tried to near her but she kept stepping back. "And because the only thing I lied to you about was being fixed with Voldemort's mark," he said, but he knew it was too late.

***

It was a full moon that night - and the clouds had finally opened up for the light to pierce through the sky, lighting every figure in the dark. The raging wars of lightning had died away. And the rains of thunders went with them.

Draco walked out of the forest with Hermione. But it wasn't the same; they weren't the same. Not like before that night. Not like before they severed their ties. Not even like before when they hated each other. Just... different... not like before.

The frightened cries... The angry voices... The wave of wands... The duel of spells... They were all replaced with the serene silence that everyone had been hoping for, ever since the night started.

The war had come to a close... almost like everything else.

Draco glanced sideways at Hermione and watched her walk uneasily with her arms wrapped around her. "Are you cold?"

"I'm fine."

...

"I'm sorry."

He stopped walking when she did and turned to him. He waited for an answer - for forgiveness or maybe the mere fact that she understood.

"Hermione!" two familiar voices suddenly resonated in the air.

Draco looked as she turned to the voices that were so welcome to her. Then, she turned back to him. "Me, too," was all she replied... before she walked away from him.

"Ron! Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, running to the persons who called her.

Draco stared blankly as Ron, Harry, and the one he used to call his own held each other in tight embraces.

"You're hurt."

"It's only a broken arm. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to fix it."

"Mr. Potter, let's get you to the Hospital Wing." Hermione turned to where the voice came from just in time to see Professor Dumbledore - bruised and gashed himself - leading Harry toward the castle.

For the last time that night, he saw her shift her gaze - to the one she left standing by the forest's edge. He looked back at her but he knew he couldn't ever take back what he had lost - so much. "Draco can you walk?" a female voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts, making him look away from Hermione for a second and toward the owner of the voice.

"Hermione, come on," he heard Ron say, before he turned back to where they were standing.

And the last thing Draco saw that night was Hermione... reaching to take another man's hand and never looking back.

~~THE END~~

December 23, 2003