Thirty-Three.

8.3K 230 1.7K
                                    

Warning-Mentions of death in this chapter.

Reminder, this is a fanfic, the battle is different than it is in the original books.

The world span before her eyes for what felt like multiple, painfully slow hours. Yet, she knew it was only a mere few seconds before the spinning stopped and she felt her feet smack the cold, stone ground.

Hermione knew the apparition into the great hall had worked before she had even opened her eyes. The sound of hushed talking which had turned deathly silent became rather apparent and she could smell the old, ragged stone, the worn parchment and the smell of the summer rain against the grand, stained-glass windows that surrounded the Great Hall.

And yet the strongest smell was the stink of iron, thick like fog, coating the inside of her eyes with the vision of blood. It made her scared to even open her eyes and take a look at what could have been happening around her.

The only thing keeping her knees from giving way was the familiar palm on her forearm, which dropped down to grasp her hand. She wondered for a moment if Draco's heart was pounding, if his throat was closing in on itself and if his lungs felt as if they had been penetrated by shards of ice.

Because that's exactly everything she was feeling right then.

"Hermione?"

She knew that voice. Oh, she knew that voice all too well. The voice was pained, it was confused and half-dazed and...different. But she knew it. It was something familiar, something that reminded her of the life she had before she ran away from the school.

She opened her eyes and saw a bundle of red hair running towards her. Hermione hardly had the chance to look around, but she quickly deciphered the smell of blood was coming from a blazing gash running down Ginny's eye, staining her purple jumper. She could see Neville, Seamus and Dean standing by the grand oak doors. Hermione purposely didn't let her eyes linger on them, because she could see the confusion in their eyes as they looked at her, back to Draco, back to her. Over and over again in the mere few seconds that felt like six hours.

They weren't alone, of course. There were over fifty people all huddled into the Great Hall, littering it in a smog of fear. Students, teachers and even owls and cats and toads.

For a moment Hermione thought Ginny was going to hug her, but when she was less than a foot away, she stilled and cocked her head to the side.

Hermione saw her reaching into her pocket for her wand.

"Hermione?" She asked again, her eyes looking down at her hand, which was intertwined with Draco's. She was clinging onto him for dear life. "What-why is your hair like that? Why are you with-"

Hermione could feel the students staring at her. She could feel the expectant and confused glances coming from the teachers. She heard the familiar voice of Professor Slughorn muttering "Merlin! Is that the Malfoy boy?"

"Ginny," Hermione breathed, her lungs finally allowing her to gasp for air. "Oh my god Ginny-"

"Hermione," Ginny said again, keeping her voice flat and monotone. Yet, Hermione could see the confusion and the hint of fear running through her eyes. "Don't fucking tell me you-"

When Ginny paused and bound her hands into fists, Seamus and Dean were at her side, staring at the pair of them with the same baffled expressions. Seamus bore a face of hatred, glaring at Draco, who surprisingly, was being rather still and calm, doing nothing but sneering and running his thumb across Hermione's knuckles.

"She's a traitor!" Seamus spat, lurching into his pocket for his wand, but before he even had a chance to point it towards them, Draco had stepped forward and wrapped his hand around it, yanking it from the Irishman's grip.

Anchor and Rose | DramioneWhere stories live. Discover now