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Hogwarts smelled of ash and iron. The school that once was a safe haven for her, crumbled before her eyes. The battle had broken out when Harry was revealed alive. Surviving a second time.
Screams echoed as spells ripped through the air, different colors shooting out of wands. Hermione’s wand was slick in her palm, breath ragged as she met every curse with a counter charm. Refusing to utter the forbidden spells, refusing to give the Death Eaters the option to twist her into the villain with muddy blood.
She kept this up until she was cornered. A Death Easter she didn’t recognize, their wand at her throat.
That was the moment she knew and she saw her life flash before her eyes.
The last thing she heard was Draco scream. The last thing she saw was Draco running to her. A look of pure fear, and despair etched on his sharp features.
A green light enveloped her. The cold of the spell replaced with warmth as she felt the comforting arms of death itself wrapping around her. Promising to take her far away, where she could be happy again.
Her last thought was of Draco. Of their relationship in 6th year, the countless nights spent in the room of Requirements. Of them reading, listening to music, debating, talking for hours. Of the nights they spent tangled in passion as the clocked ticked closer to the end.
She had no regrets.
-
“No!!” Draco’s voice screamed through the crowd, a ringing in his ear creating an unsettling silence around him as he sprinted towards Hermione. He was too late, the Killing Curse had her square in the chest. No scream, no sound, just silence, as she crumbled to the ground.
The Death Eater stood still, but Draco pushed him out of the way, getting on his knees, hands shaking as he gathered her into his arms. Her curls fell over her face like curtains drawn over a closed window.
“Hermione.” He whispered it like it was a prayer. “No, no—look at me. Look at me. You said- damn it, you said you’d be careful.”
Her eyes were half-open, unseeing, a small smile etched on her face, like she knew, and thought about the happy memories before she was hit. Not giving the death eater the privilege of killing her while she was afraid.
“Please-please come back. I never said ‘I love you’ enough” His voice cracked again. “And I was so stupid, always so late.”
He buried his face in her shoulder. Sobs coming out of him, screaming for her to come back. Praying to every concept of a higher power while simultaneously cursing them for taking her away.
He heard the announcement that the Dark Lord had been defeated. He felt people trying to take Hermione away.
“NO! You can’t take her!” Draco screamed holding her closer. His entire world crumbled in his arms.
He felt the people clear from him. She heard people holding back Ron and Harry. Draco clutching Hermione selfishly.
Draco felt the embrace of his mother, and the presence of his father. In the arms of his mother he confessed to the secret relationship he and Hermione had. The nights spent in the room of requirements.
How he had been spying and sending important information to Hermione. How he had gotten her the hair needed for the polyjuice potion. He spilled every detail.
Narcissa crying, realizing that her ignorance had gotten her son’s heart broken beyond repair. Lucius standing stiffly beside them, taking in the pure tragedy of the scene before him.
“We will bury her in the family cemetery” Lucius said, after a few minutes of self reflection caused by Draco’s cries and begs. “We will give her the traditional burial of a Lady Malfoy”
Draco looked up at him with tears in his eyes. He saw the haunted look in his father’s eyes. Despite his beliefs, the sight of his son broken, he made this exception. Wanting his son to at least have one good view of him before he was killed in Azkaban
“She will be honored”
-
The entire Wizarding world held their breath as Hermione was lowered into her final resting place.
-
Lucius was unsurprisingly sent to Azkaban despite his last moment of mercy. Narcissa succumbed to death from a broken heart after her husband was sentenced to a dementors kiss.
Draco never used magic again. The wand that had once felt like an extension of his hand buried with Hermione. Magic had brought him Hermione, but it had also taken her away so he let it go. No more charms, no more spells. He cooked his own meals by hand, lit candles with matches, and washed his clothes in silence. He lived the rest of his days powerless, in the rawest, most aching sense of the word.
Many of his friends offered to oblivio him. Draco always responded with a shake of his head. “If I don’t have the memories of her, I have nothing”
He sold the manor after a couple years. The screams of Hermione keeping him awake, the library where he should have found Hermione buried in books, empty. The ghosts of little curly haired kids that never got to live running around the manor haunting him.
He spent his wealth until it was gone, all in memory of Hermione. He never married, never had children. The line dying with him.
With his wealth he spent the remainder of his days donating to cause Hermione was passionate about, Draco sponsored every single muggle-born wizard and witch enrolled into Hogwarts. Not letting them pay for anything regarding their education. He made sure the Weasleys, and every family Hermione cared about were taken care of. Even her parents.
He made sure that by the end of his life, all the money was gone.
Until one day, over a century and half after Hermione had passed, he woke his old limbs feeling young again. A head of curls on his head. A feeling he never thought he’d feel again. He opened his eyes and saw Hermione smiling at up at him. “Took you long enough” she said in a teasing voice.
Fin