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'Till Death Do Us Part by marauderslover15
Chapter 16 : How Much a Person Could Mean?
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 11

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The fire singed the corners of the houses and grew greedy with very bite. It danced happily as it hopped from house to house, growing untamable. A house collapsed up the street with a final smoke. Dirty faces lit up from the fire, looking black with dirt and wet with sweat and tears. Their mouths open, letting out cries and piercing screams. Black cloaked and hooded figures haunted them, lurking in the shadows of darkness with their howls of cruel laughter echoing among the screams. The sun was setting in the distance, the indigo night consuming the last line of burnt orange. The smoke rose to touch the night sky, connecting the ruthless fire to deep color of the ending twilight. 

He saw her lip tremble and her eyes fill with the tears and automatically he regretted bringing her. He knew she would be tempted to fight in this battle against the Deatheaters. Could he even call it a battle? No, it was most like a massacre by the Deatheaters. He really regretted bringing her when he saw her hurting. She was hurting for people like her. For the people here. He couldn’t stand the sight of her being hurt. She was always strong and weakness in her was weird to see, weird to even admit she had any kind of weakness in her.


Her eyes darted to him, noticing him holding a prisoner-like chain. Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion.

“I’m going to bound you to me. This way you won’t get lost. You won’t get snatched. If I am in any real danger, they are enchanted to unclasp so you can make a run for it. Remember, Granger. You made a promise.”

She nodded her head slowly and gulped down everything she was feeling that she swore she was ready to vomit. He buckled it around her left wrist and clasped the other end onto his wrist.

“Have your wand out,” he commanded her. “And if we get separated and you come across a Deatheater, show them your mark. Your Malfoy Mark.” 

She didn’t have the words to speak; they were stuck in her throat. He jerked the chain forward as they weaved through a running crowd. They ran through mothers cradling their children, sisters holding their younger sibling’s hand, almost dragging them, the elderly stumbling along, getting pushed, but some were refusing to run.


Draco pushed Hermione down to duck and with a wave of his wand; the man was shot into a fiery hut on the verge of collapsing.

“NO!” cried Hermione.

Draco immediately stopped, examining Hermione. She had a pained expression, looking at the hut. Draco jerked the chain forward for her to move, but she wouldn’t budge. He surely would not be able to drag her through this. He shot her a scowl, but moved toward her.

“I’m not going in there to save him. He tried to hurt us. And I saved our asses. Now, I’m going to go in there again and risk my ass to save him? NO.”

She whimpered, her eyes growing big and welling up with more tears.

He licked his lips impatiently and bit down on his bottom lip, thinking. With a loud, regretful, sigh he growled, “Fine. Stay here. I’m going to release you. I’ll save that man, but go home.”

She shook her head violently.

“You are not going in there with me.”

Her voice sounded so distant, choked with overwhelming emotions. “I am. I need to help.”

“No. You are not putting yourself in danger.”

Hermione wheeled around and started heading toward the hut as it sent sparks of fire her way. She was yanked back by the chain. Her voice was a whisper, barely audible in the chaos, “Please. I can’t stay here and not help.”

Draco casted a complicated spell of a Flame-freezing Charm as Hermione looked up into his hard eyes in shock, she was impressed.

He gave her a grunt, grabbing her by the arm to pull her into the hut. The roar of the fire filled their ears as the snapping of the wood could be heard in the distance. The smoke caused their eyes to water as their vision became worse with the blurriness of tears and the haziness of the gray smoke. They both crouched and move cautiously through the fire. Hermione heard the wood cracking, splinter by splinter, until it gave a loud snap. Hermione looked up to see it falling, tumbling down above Draco. Hermione shoved Draco out of the way and into the flames. The wood landed with a hard bounce and continued to be devoured by the fire.

Hermione was in between his legs as they both hoisted themselves up from the ground, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. The tickling flame against their skin was ignored, but an overwhelming sensation deep inside of them called for attention. He cupped her face, caressing her supple cheek with his thumb.

“You saved me…” he whispered.

Her eyes widened. “The man.”

Draco quickly jumped to his feet, hauling Hermione with him. They ran blindly through the smoke in a hurried search for the man. Soon they found the man, sprawled on his side, his hand on fire.

“Aguamenti!” cried Hermione, her wand shooting out water at his hand and extinguishing the flame. It was too late for his hand, it was already scorched black. Shortly after, she casted the Flame-Freezing Charm on him.

“Okay, let’s go! He’s fine now!” bellowed Draco over the flame.

“No!” she cried back. “What if something lands on him too?”

Draco lifted the man roughly with a scowl and wrapped his arm around Hermione’s waist, pulling her close. Black smoke rose from beneath their feet, swirling around upward of a reverse tornado. Hermione felt herself being swept off her feet and flying through the air. Once her feet touched the ground, the black smoke settled back down.

He dropped the man and whispered to Hermione awkwardly, “Thanks.”

She cupped his face with both of her hands as her eyes bore into his. “What are friends for?”

He narrowed his eyes, studying her as if she was the only one who existed. The cries of people, the roaring of the fire, and the hallow laughter, were all ignored. Right now, she was the only one important. Was it at times like these? That people really notice each other. In times of desperation, was it then when you notice how much a person could mean?

Hermione swallowed hard, looking into those stormy eyes, so vulnerable. And only one thought hit her. What would she do without him if she were to lose him?

“Draco!” called a voice.

His eyes peeled away from her, looking at Rabastan sending a spell at a woman. Draco laced his fingers with Hermione, leading her quickly to him, avoiding spells.

“The Dark Mark!” bellowed Rabastan.

But spells came shooting toward Draco and he blocked each one of them. He couldn’t get a break. “Do the Dark Mark!” he called to Hermione over the endless yelling. “Incantation is Morsmordre! Hold your wand straight and point it at the sky.”

“I won’t!” she cried.

“Do it now,” he growled. “Be loyal to me.”

Rabastan roared, “Draco!”

Hermione bit her lip, complementing his request as Rabastan shot deadly glances every few minutes to Draco. A weak Draco flashed vividly in her mind. The Draco that was broken down from torture. She didn’t want him to be punished again. She wouldn’t be able to stomach something like that again.

Her arm was horizontal to the sky and she shouted, “Morsmordre!”

The green glowing light started as an aurora, slowly forming to the familiar skull. It opened its mouth slowly as a snake slithered out. If it was even possible, the cries and yells were louder and the ones shooting curses, stumbled back and some falling.

“Come,” ordered Draco, pulling his arm forward to yank Hermione slightly.

Hermione, though, was looking up, shaking with hard breaths in and out. She felt coldness sweep her, consume her, devour her. Her feet would not move forward. She was like a statue, frozen, rooted to the spot.

“Oi!” he called for her. He jerked her again.

She wheeled on the spot as he led her through the fleeing crowd, pushing them roughly. Draco was focused on getting where he needed to get. He knew that at every village raid, they needed to find the headquarters for the resistance. Homes were burned to the ground, but headquarters were not found in the homes of average citizens. Rather, they were found deep underground. He kept moving forward as she followed briskly. He knew she was scared shitless.

“Where are we going?” she called from behind him.

“We need to find their headquaters!” he answered.

Draco felt a jolt on the chain as it stretched. He looked behind him to see Hermione, being seized by a man who said, “Cum’ ‘ere, bitch!”

Draco turned on the spot, roaring with his wand drawn, “Let her go!”

The man had his arm wrapped tightly around Hermione’s neck, choking her. She was gasping for air loudly as she struggled to get away from the man’s grasp. The man hissed, “Traitor.”

Hermione's hand was shaking as she slowly lifted her arm with her wand. With a nonverbal spell, the spell blasted the man backwards. Draco violently grabbed her wrist as a nearby house collapsed, burning down to the ground. Without another word, they continued on their path. They weaved through people and took detours up side streets.

In slow motion, Hermione noticed the familiar dark face that stood tall amongst the crowd. His wand was waving back and forth violently and as the crowd parted Hermione recognized another figure with a recognizable waxy complexion stained with dirt. Dean and Farrow were in an intecse duel. By the look of it, Farrow seemed to be overpowering Dean.

“ Avada—”

“Stupefy!” cried Hermione with her wand aimed at Farrow.

Before the spell hit, Farrow's eyes locked with Hermione and once it hit him, she swore she saw something extremely deadly. Dean noticed her too and froze on the spot when he saw her running with Draco. With of wave of his wand, Dean broke the chain apart as it shattered into pieces. Draco didn’t even seem to notice as Hermione fell backwards. At that very moment, inconveniently, houses collapsed as the rubble landslide piled onto the street, blazing.

“MALFOY!” she cried. “NO!” Her sob was loud and desperate, her chest heaving. She ran to the wreckage, pulling bricks and throwing them aside. “PLEASE!” she howled. She tried to apparate, but couldn’t. She balled her fist together and squeezed her eyes shut. No use.

He heard her voice distant and glanced behind him. She wasn’t there. “Granger!” he bellowed, panicked. “Shit. No. Please. No.” He darted to the debris, screaming on top of his lungs, “GRANGER! GRANGER!”

A shaking arm came through the hole. Her beautiful arm, stained with dirt. He immediately grabbed her hand hungrily, making it cup his face. “Shit,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. Once he felt a tear roll down his cheek, he pulled away from her. She mustn’t know he was crying.  He swallowed his shaky voice, and spoke as firmly as he could, “Stay there. I’ll come and get you.”

“Okay,” she choked on her whimper.

Fuck. He needed to get to her now. He reluctantly let go of her hand, not wanting to let her go. He backed away and with one glance back, her hand was gone. Hermione buried her face into her hands, her hand still tingling from Draco’s warmth. Then she felt a hand slap over her mouth and another hand seizing her throat, choking her from behind. She was dragged into a flaming hut further down, blocks away from the wreckage. The wreckage getting smaller and smaller in the distance. Her screams, the cries for help were stifled. There was no use. Hermione was able to finally get a look at her kidnapper once she was thrown to the ground.

It was Farrow. She forgot about him. That she was trapped on the other side of Draco with Farrow. Shit, how could she be so careless? How was he able to get up so quickly?

“Stupi’ lil’ girl,” he smirked evilly. “I’m going to torch you, but you’re so bootiful to let go.”

“I—I thought I was ugly,” she whimpered, giving herself time. “You—you said it before, right?”

He began to unbuckle his pants with his smirk growing bigger. “I thought so too. But lately, you’ve become irresistible.” He brought down his fly and just as he was pulling his pants down, an unknown voice shouted, “Stupefy!” Again, Farrow tumbled to the ground with a loud thump.

“Go, get on,” growled Astoria.

“What are you…?” Hermione faded out in astonishment. “You’re not a Deatheater… Are you?”

“Not yet. This is my opportunity to prove that I’m worthy enough.”

“Why all of a sudden do you want to become one?” asked Hermione cautiously.

“You ask a lot of questions…” After looking Hermione up and down, she continued, “I want to be worthy of Draco too. I want to prove to him of what I can be. I’m joining for him. I know he didn’t ask me to, but this way I can be closer to him. Show him.”

“But you’ve just ruined your chances... and for me? Farrow is going to remember…”

Astoria looked as if she was about to cry regretful tears, but only shook her head. “Go. Before he wakes up. Go through the back door where I came from.” She pointed at it. “It should leave you on a Bellsbane street. Be careful, if you take the road to the left, eventually you’ll be on Urban Road. There’s a wreckage on that street so avoid that because you’ll only be trapped. You might want to take Gillyfair Road. That’s northwest.”



Hermione slipped past the flames out of the side down into another street. She went to draw for her wand, but it was not on her. She patted herself frantically. No. She had left her wand. Her mind wandered to her wand lying on the dirt ground near where Farrow snatched her.

Draco picked up the familiar wand with hands shaking. His eyes darting madly to find his girl. His girl? That didn’t matter right now. He needed to find her as quickly as possible. “GRANGER!” he called carelessly. “GRANGER!”

Hermione looked up at the night sky, swearing she heard her name. She had to find Malfoy. All the streets signs were scorched black. She trekked up the hill to see if she could scout better from up there.  Keep your head straight, Hermione. She continued a little farther up the cobble streets, away from the burning houses. The houses here were already burnt and some already collapsed with faint smoke still puffing out. Out of the darkness of the corner, a black-hooded figured rounded the corner. He immediately drew the wand at her. Knowing she was helpless, Hermione only had one option.

“Don’t!” she cried. She held up her forearm. “I’m a Malfoy.”

The man pulled his hood down, showing a baggy face, deepened with dark spots. “You’re Draco’s bitch.”

Hermione noticed he was holding his wand, but another was pocketed. “Give me that wand.”

He grunted, “Not fucking listening to you.”

Her nostrils flared challengingly. “It would be a pity if Draco were to hear about this.”

He growled slightly and unwillingly with a grunt handed her the wand. Before he was eaten by the darkness, he gave Hermione a suspicious, fleeting look.  Hermione continued making her way up the hill when a graveyard came into view. It was an eerie graveyard against the indigo sky with statues of witches and wizards and broken headstones. The most noticeable grave was the one with a headstone as tall as Hagrid, with detailed flowers engraved into it. Right in front of it was a stone coffin above the ground. Its top was slid slightly open. She approached it, guarded with her wand. And with one peek, it was not difficult to notice stone stairs leading down somewhere deep underground. Hermione with all her might pushed the top off as it fell onto the soft dirt ground. “Lumos.” Taking each step slowly with glances back, she followed the stairs down. At the bottom was a small room almost like a cellar with papers and maps scattered across a table. She looked at the papers quickly, taking in as much information as she could.

 These were the resistance plans. Where to attack next and profiles on Deatheaters. There was one of Draco.

She scanned it quickly. It had all his information. But what was more frightening was they were stalking him. They knew his routine. Everywhere he shopped at, visited, where he ate, where he could most likely be found. Without hesitation, her wand tip set the profile on fire. Before the fire became too greedy, she shuffled the other papers and profiles into her arms. These needed to be saved if the resistance was going to continue on strong.  

Hermione jumped the flights of stairs with the papers stored safety in her various pockets. Who she met at the top was going to cause more trouble. The resistance man who snatched her earlier that she blasted him away.

“Traitor, bitch,” he growled, with his wand aiming at her.

With a crackle, a fire whip shot out of her wand, sending the man flying into a tombstone.

Shakily, he attempted to get onto his feet. And she made sure; she was long gone before he could. She ran for all hell, ran as quick as her legs could take her, her heart thundering in her chest to find Draco.

“Ouch!” Hermione fell backward, rubbing her head. When she looked up, she found Astoria across from her. When Astoria looked up, her eyes widen. She snapped her head to look behind her to find Farrow slowly coming to a halt.

“Stupefy!”  yelled Hermione.

For the third time that night, Farrow fell to the ground. Hermione shuffled to her feet then helped Astoria up.

“You okay?” Hermione asked.

Her lip was trembling as her eyes became glassy with a layer of tears. “He was angry with me. He was trying to kill me.” She sniffed, “I guess we’re even.”

“Not just yet.” Hermione moved to Farrow, mumbling quickly under her breath with her wand waving with effort. “There,” she said when she was done. “Now, he has a false memory. When he wakes up, pretend that you fought off someone. Now, we’re even.”

Hermione turned to leave and began to break into a jog when she swore she heard Astoria call, “I can see why he likes you.” Hermione gave one glance back, but didn’t notice Astoria. She only noticed the familiar man sprinting in the far distance.


She continued to run until she was slammed against a door of a house by the memorable embrace of the strong, protective arms. She immediately melted into them, burying her head into his chest and sobbed hard. Draco squeezed her tightly, his heart pounding in his chest. He inhaled her vanilla scent gratefully and he felt himself starving for more. When she looked up with her big watery eyes, he lost all self-control. He kissed her sexually with passion eliciting each second they held each other. Adrenaline was pumping through her as she opened her mouth in the heat of the moment, letting him in. He took her greedily, he pushed for more. The door creaked open as they stumbled in, but they kept their lips locked. He cupped her face, pressing her lips against his. She staggered onto a table and he took her legs as she wrapped them around his waist. She moaned against his mouth and he pulled away from her to leave a trail of kisses along her neck as his thumbs brushed against her collarbones.


Draco wheeled around, pulling Hermione off the table and held onto her hand tightly while the other hand pointed his wand at the man.

“First,” the man growled, “you send up the Dark Mark into the sky. Next you steal resistance plans. You’re a fucking traitor and you’re muggle-born…? Like me. And you chose their side.” He spat at her feet. “Bitch you're going to pay.” He waved his wand at Hermione, “Avada—”

Draco stepped in front of Hermione, shoving Hermione to the side. He was now facing his death.

Thank you so much SassySlytherinGirl for editing this chapter XOXO. So much thanks.

A/N: I hope I don’t annoy you guys too much with the author's note, but I always feel like talking to you guys ‘cuz you guys are the bloody best.

ANYWHO! This chapter so far was intense for me to write. I know there wasn't much romance in this chapter, but I think this is the only way to continue to build their relationship; by putting them into a whole bunch of chaos.

What do you think? What did you think of their kiss? ;)

P.S- Also I just put up a Dramione One-shot Valentine’s Day Special called “Teach me About Amortenita” if you would like to read that 

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