Hiding Hermione

The Batlle of Hogwarts is over, but this time Voldemort won. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley are dead, as are anyone else who dared to resist the Dark Lord's rise to power. Except for Hermione Granger.

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

by: Apathy_
Hermione Granger dropped to the ground beside Ronald Weasley. Tears rolled down her face as she pushed Ron's hair back from his face tenderly. She stretched out her fingers and pulled down his eyelids. A soft sob ecaped her throat as she looked around her at the fallen bodies lain side by side in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her wand lay forgotten by Ron's side. She wished Harry's body was here, but at the same time she was glad it was gone. She wasn't sure she could stomach seeing the bodies of both of her bestfriends lying side by side. The ceiling showed a clear night, the stars shining bravely, but Hermione knew that if she ventured outside she would find no stars, the rising dust covering them. Before she was killed, of course. Death Eaters had no time for Muggle-Borns like her.
Someone rested a hand on her shoulder. She jumped in fright and turned quickly. Hermione raised her eyes fearfully to see to whom it would be that would end her long suffering. She started as she stared into the light grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. Tracks streaked down his face. Hermione glared at him.No doubt, they were for one of his dead Death Eater friends.
“What are you waiting for?” she snarled. “Kill me now. Please.”Her voice broke on the last word, and fresh tears seeped out of her eyes. She looked back at Ron again. “Please,” she repeated in a whisper. She didn't think she could stand to live without Ron and Harry a moment longer.
Draco chewed his lip and stared at her. His wand was clutched in his hand. Her's was on the ground, at least five metres away. He could do it. He could kill her now. It would be easy.
No, he couldn't. He couldn't kill her. Just looking at her now, he knew that he wouldn't be able to. Looking at her tear-filled brown eyes, he was certain that he couldn't bring himself to do it He hadn't even been able to kill Dumbledore, for goodness sakes.
Hermione refused to look at him. She refused to die looking at him, like she was begging for her life. She would die with pride and dignity.
There was no green flash of light, no soft utterence of the curse that would bring her peace. She was surprised, but she still refused to look at him. It would come, she told herself. Death was yet to come.
On and on the death-filled silence trailed, pressing down on Hermione's chest until she could stand it no longer. She clambered to her feet and faced Draco. If she had to die looking at him, she wouldn't look up at him.She wanted to be face to face with him, so he could see the pain, and suffer the rest of his life for it.
“What are you waiting for?!” she screeched at him, throwing out her arms. “I'm right here! I'm not fighting! Just kill me and be done with it!”
“I-I can't,” Draco whispered, licking his dry lips and staring at her anxiously. She laughed harshly.
“Can't?” she shreiked. “You can't?” She took a step closer to him. “You can. We both know you can. Do you just want to torture me? I want to die, so I musn't be allowed to. That's it, isn't it? You won't give me what I want. You'll give me the opposite. Fine then.” She stepped away from him again, and felt the salty taste of her tears of misery on her tongue. “Fine! I don't want to die! Please don't kill me! PLEASE DON'T!” She was screaming at him again. He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked around him.
“Please don't shout-” he started.
“Please don't shout! That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! Surely you want to make a big deal out of this?! Surely you want this to be noticed, to be applauded, even, by your precious Lord?” She spat the last word, and Draco winced. Hermione noticed, and instantly hated him all the more for it.
“Please stop,” he whispered. “I really really can't kill you. I couldn't kill anybody. I'm a coward...” He trailed off and Hermione stared at him incredulously. They stood in silence for several minutes, then Draco spoke again. His voice was croaky and battle-worn.
“They'll kill you, if they see you. They don't like... They don't like...”
“Mudbloods?” Hermione interrupter harshly. Draco winced again.
“Don't say that.”
“Why not?” Hermione challenged. “You used to call me that all the time. Mudblood, Mudblood, Mudblood,” she chanted at him. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block images from his mind; Bellatrix, torturing Hermione, Hermione's tortured cries ringing out through the dining hall in his house, her arm, bloody and pale with the single word carved into it. He wondered if it was still there.
“Yes,” he muttered. “They'll kill you.”
“Brilliant, then I'm not your responsibility anymore. Off you go,” she said sarcastically, and turned away from him.
“I don't want you to die,” he blurted out suddenly.
“Don't want me to die?” Hermione repeated, still not looking at him. She stared at Ron and stroked his already cold face with shaking fingers. “Off course not. Why would you want that? You only bullied me every year of school, anyway.”
“Don't remind me,” he muttered, looking away from the back of her head. He stared at all the dead bodies, people he had gone to school with, people he had teased mercilessly. Looking back on it all now, he felt... Hollow.
“I- we- need to get you out of here,” Draco said abruptly. Hermione stiffened.
“No thanks,” she said quietly. Her eyes felt like they were springing leaks.
“Have you ever had a memory,” Hermione asked him after several quiet moments, “That sneaks out of your eye and rolls down your cheek?”
Draco looked back at her, and Hermione fancied she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her skull.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “Yeah, I have.”
Hermione nodded sadly. That was just what she needed to hear. She lifted Ron's cold, lifeless hand and kissed it gently. “I'll never forget you,” she whispered to him. Then she stood and turned to Draco. He immediately stood up straighter.
“I need to get out of here,” Hermione whispered, glancing around at the bodies again. “And I need you to help me.”
Draco nodded fervently. “Do you have a plan, or do we need to come up with one?”
“I think I have a plan,” Hermione muttered. “But it'll be difficult.”
“I don't care,” Draco told her. “I just want you out of here.”
Hermione smiled. The Draco she had known seemed to have grown up quite considerably.

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