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My Light In Darkness by Harry and Mione forever
Chapter 12 : Choices
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 7

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Chapter 12, finally, I know! It’s a short chapter. Please review and let me know what you think. Ideas, questions, thoughts, praise, insults ;) I’d just like to hear what you all think!


J.K owns what you recognize; the rest is my imagination at work.




“This will be my last visit for a while,” Hermione said softly. Draco watched her as she put down a piece of paper. Her eyes caressed the parchment and he could see thousands of emotions behind her usually cold eyes.


“You’re meant to be at Hogwarts, aren’t you?” Hermione shook her head. “Hermione?” She seemed distracted. The thoughts plaguing her mind had to be enormous for it to have such an effect on her.


“After the attack, Remus wanted to keep an eye on me. Which is why I can’t stay long. I’m worried about being away for too long.”


“Remus?” She looked up at him with eyes sharp and stormy. He looked away, fearing the distance between them. He felt that familiar sense of darkness within him. The type he felt when he did not get his way, when he was around his father, and when he was speaking to Potter. But never around her. Never for her. “What’s that?” He asked, indicating the parchment she had put on the table.


“A spell for the Dark Lord….it’s for Potter.”


“It’s going to kill him, isn’t it?” Hermione put on her jacket. “When will you be back?” The look in her eyes told him she had no intention of doing so any time soon. “Hermione, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”


“There’s nothing to tell.”


“Damn it Hermione!” He grabbed her by the arms. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I trust you inexplicably. I follow you into every escapade to keep you alive. I manipulated the one man who has shown dome fatherly affection for me! And you still won’t trust me?”


“Oh please Draco, that little crying game you pulled wasn’t all manipulation. While you sobbing your eyes out was quite the act not all of it was. You know the feelings he mentioned aren’t entirely false. You know it, I know it. Even Severus Snape knows it. Now let go of me.” His hands were off of her like her skin had caught fire.




“I don’t have time for this,” she said, grabbing the parchment, “I need to sign Potter’s death warrant.”


“You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you?” She turned back to him and stared at him with those chocolate orbs.


“Evil can’t love Draco,” she whispered, before leaving the room.



“Hermione, once Potter is dead you can drop this charade with the Order.” Hermione looked up sharply. “Don’t look so surprised, the information you’ve gotten us has been most useful. But I can get the agents to Hogwarts. Snape will run the school. You, I need for a far more important task. Do you remember some of the tasks you were assigned?”


“I had to infiltrate the Order and listen in on the meetings-”


“-which you have done.” Hermione nodded and looked away. “Which you have done by gaining the trust of the others. But, as I recall, you needed information from a certain book. And, you have gotten that.”




“I need you use the information you have gained. I want all opposition destroyed. The only way to do that, is by getting what you discovered,” the Dark Lord said with a sneer. “I will destroy every single one of them!” Hermione got up off her knees and handed him the parchment. His dark eyes never lit up with the smile that erupted on his face. “Harry Potter will never stand in my way again. Send an owl to Severus, Hermione. He needs to get here as soon as possible,” he whispered.


“Yes, My Lord,” she said softly.


“Do you feel trapped by the walls you helped build, Hermione?” Hermione kept her eyes on the floor.


“My Lord, you remain my master,” he nodded, satisfied. Hermione left the room with that thought on her mind. No mater what she did, she would forever remain in chains.



Harry heard her come in, but he remained silent, eyes staying closed. She watched him for a while, before slowly coming in. “You’re not asleep,” she said, sensing his brain at work.


“I thought you weren’t going to be back for a while,” he said, sitting up. He took a look at her face and knew what was coming.


“I’m not coming back. At least…”


“I won’t live long enough to see you come back.” Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “You know, they say that, when you’re about to die your whole life flashes before your eyes. It’s not true. It’s what you’ve failed to do that really comes to mind; a life, a career, a family. All the things I never thought I’d get. I was right,” he said, as Hermione looked away.


“You have a few hours. Snape still needs to get back from a mission. You…”


“What, Hermione? What can you possibly say to me after all this?” Hermione’s silence only made him angrier. “Why are you even here? Why did you come and see me?” He asked, standing up and walking over to her. He loomed over her. “Why are you here, Hermione?”


“To say goodbye,” she whispered. Harry froze, his eyes confused. She reached out slowly, unsure. His eyes softened as she touched his face. She leaned in and her lips softly brushed his. His eyes closed. She turned and opened the door. Staring out of the doorway and the empty hall, she felt his eyes on her.




“Sarah? Sarah?” Remus took out his wand.


“Remus, what are you doing?” Tonks shouted, grabbing his arm, trying to restrain him. “Remus, stop! You know how Ginny’s been lately! You can’t just break down the girl’s door!” Ginny remained silent, eyes fixated on the door.


“What is going on?” Mrs. Weasley asked, rushing out of her bedroom in a gown. “Ginny? Tonks? Remus? What are you doing outside of Sarah’s room?”


“Proving our suspicions,” Remus muttered, seeing the certainty in Ginny’s eyes. “Tonks let go of me!” With that, Mrs. Black started screaming. “Reducto!” He shouted, blowing the door open.




Hermione remained still, unable to leave.


A young man facing her defiantly, fear in his eyes. “You didn’t honestly think I was going to deflower you?”


Two people standing under a showerhead, finding the shared experiences. “Looks like we’re more alike than I thought”


“You fear, fear itself”


A man seeing something no one else did. “You have some humanity left in you”


“Deep down, you know it’s wrong”


A man lying on a bed, destroyed, broken. “Are you still so loyal to your master?”


“You don’t know anything about love”


“Do you love me?” Green eyes boring into hers.


“Hermione, stay with me”




“What the bloody hell was that?!” Ron shouted, running down the steps, half dressed for Hogwarts. He saw the other standing in Sarah’s room through the hole in the wall. “What’s going on?”




“Hermione, stay with me”




“She’s a Death Eater.”




“Hermione, stay with me”


Hermione turned back and fell into Harry’s arms. He caught her and held her as he kissed her. Her arms went around him and pulled him closer. Reaching out behind her, Harry’s thoughts of escape left him as he closed the door behind her. Thoughts of Ginny, Ron, the Weasleys, of Remus and Tonks, of the Order and of the fight followed the thoughts of escape. If he was going to die, he would die having had this woman, body and soul. Even for a few hours. He pushed her against the wall, and gave her a hard, punishing kiss. A kiss that burned with lust, resentment and love. This is what they had become. This is what they had come to. And this is what they would end with.


“Make love to me, Harry,” Hermione whispered. Harry, moved from her creamy, soft neck and kissed her again. Picking her up, Harry carried her to the bed she had healed him on, she had comforted him on, she had performed her first mercy on.


He would die a man, a man who truly experienced passion and love. He would die with courage, like his father before him. He would die grasping this memory. He would die holding the memory of this woman to him: the woman who stood for everything he hated and fought against; the woman who stood for the man who had killed people he had loved; the woman who represented darkness; the woman he resented for her part in the war, for the crimes she committed; the woman who he forgave for them; the woman he loved.


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