Our Constellation--Dramione

Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, plotlines, characters, places, events (etc.) all belong to J.K. Rowling, she is the rightful owner. When a character is created by me, you'll know right away ;)

A/N: So I'd like to clear a few things up: first of all, I prefer the books over the movies and would like my fanfiction to chronologically follow J.K. Rowling's written work. That said, it's much harder to write a good story using someone else's words, so I have resorted to using clips from the movie to write these scenes. Perhaps this is like, a double disclaimer, but it's also a warning that most lines in this chapter come directly from the movie.

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"Tell me, how they broke into my vault!" Bellatrix roared at the goblin being questioned.

He remained still and did not answer.

"Draco," Narcissa hissed quietly, so as not to raise any suspicion with Lucius. "Draco, listen to me. Let her go. I know it hurts to see her--"

"--You know nothing of my pain, Mother."

"You're right. I don't know. But whatever that pain is, imagine it being amplified by one thousand. You take one step in that direction to save her, and that's what the consequences will feel like."

"You don't think I know that?" I growled quietly.

"...Consider yourself lucky, goblin," Bellatrix spat. She stood and encircled the broken Hermione. "Well, the same can't be said for this one."

Draco flinched yet again, only to be reeled in by both his parents, as Potter and Weasley emerged from the stairwell to the cellar. "Expelliarmus!"

Bellatrix's wand flew right from her hand.

"Stupefy!" The spell narrowly missed Draco and Lucius was thrown from his stance into the wall.

Draco watched as nonverbals were being expelled toward his mother and immediately sprung into action, fending both himself and Narcissa from the dangerous crossfire of wands. He was about to fire one at Potter's messed-up face before he heard her whimper.

"Stop!"

Ron and Harry stepped back, seemingly defeated as they looked at Bellatrix. Draco turned around and found Hermione standing, giving all her weight into Bellatrix's hold while she held her fancy and jewel-engraved dagger to her throat.

"Drop your wands." Draco went stark white and began to sweat--two things he didn't think could happen simultaneously, yet, here he was. "I said drop them!"

Harry was the first to drop his wand. Then Ron.

Bellatrix shrieked at him, "Pick them up, Draco, pick them up!" So he did, scared shitless that whatever he did, or didn't do, would result in the death of his beautiful girl--the woman he planned to make his wife, to honour, to cherish and to hold till death could part them. Hermione didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.

Okay, three people deserved it. The Dark Lord, Bellatrix, and Umbridge. He might've spared his aunt if she hadn't carved that unforgivable word into her forearm, but alas...

He didn't want to be doing this. He wanted so badly to curse his aunt into oblivion for the heinous actions she committed in the drawing-room, but he had a part to play. And sucking up to the dark side would save his relationship with Hermione for now, right?

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

Hermione sobbed once and inhaled sharply as the blade was pressed further into her skin, deep enough that blood was drawn.