Vinn Winters

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Draco hated the dark smoke; it pressed against him as it swirled around him. He had never been inside a coffin before, but he imagined that the feeling was similar. Through the swirling black clouds, he could see Hermione flying next to him. He could barely see her face beneath the dark smoke enveloping her.

He had been the first to take to the sky, Hermione reluctantly following. She had been silent since their discussion in their new home. Draco couldn't blame her; their situation was growing more and more complex. Still, as much as he held distaste for Hermione lecturing him, her quiet made him even more uncomfortable.

I was always at least somewhat on this side of the line, Draco thought. This whole ordeal must be considerably harder on her, he thought.

He had to keep it together for the both of them, at least for now. Still, Draco shouldn't shake a part of their conversation earlier with Snape that sent a chill through his body.

"It's still dawn, hasn't it been dawn for a couple hours now?" Draco had asked Snape.

"You're exactly right, Ms. Salwise. For the sun does not rise until The Dark Lord deems it so," Snape had replied. Draco had not dared to inquire on how that was even possible, or what new terrifying array of magic this new Potter had at his disposal. They were barely evading detection as is.

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https://vinnwinters.tumblr.com/post/663609305830998016/draco-malfoy-and-the-most-forbidden-of-curses "Is something the matter?" Snape asked.

Should I bring attention to it? Should I say something? Malfoy's mind raced. If I say something, I might be putting myself on the spot for Snape to challenge that I'm the authentic Mr. Salwise. But if I say nothing, then it'll look even more suspicious.

"Are you suddenly no longer hungry?" Snape pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Gaah! I wish Hermione was here, she'd know how to respond, Draco thought. But would she? She's a Gryffindor. Nobody knows Snape better than I do. But I've never been pitted against Snape before. Nobody has. No wait, Potter and Snape frequently clashed. In fact, nobody has been pitted against Snape as much as Potter had. How did he deal with this?

Draco clenched his teeth. He needed an answer, and fast.

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https://vinnwinters.tumblr.com/post/663609305830998016/draco-malfoy-and-the-most-forbidden-of-curses Draco awoke shortly after the first trickle of light entered the room.

Daybreak… I made through the night, he thought, taking a deep breath.

Slowly, he sat up and looked around the room. The ornate walls felt like they rose endlessly to the ceiling above, even though it wasn't that high above them.

Still in this cursed world, so it wasn't a nightmare after all. Well… at least one I could wake up from, Draco thought, rubbing his shoulder.

He looked over at Hermione. She had still been resting beside him, perfectly still except for her soft breathing. Her brown, wavy hair curled around her face, with a few strand just above her eye. She looked pretty, more than pretty, elegant, Draco leaned back, surprised by his own thoughts.

Maybe it's because she's not lecturing me for once, he concluded, trying to justify his previous thought.

Then he found himself leaning closer to her.

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If the Salwise manor was meant to be built as a castle of intimidation, they had indeed found the throne room. A giant bed covered in midnight sheets loomed in the middle of the room, directly across from an obsidian brick fireplace.

Draco was still trying to process the surroundings when Hermione dashed over to the right side of the bed, her eyes locked on the charcoal night stand beside it. He couldn't see everything on the nightstand with her in the way, but he could make out an upright picture frame, and a book with something shiny on top of it.

"That's a picture of Crookshanks," Hermione said, sounding disturbed. She turned around, facing Draco with what looked like a broken silver amulet in her hand. "And this is a piece of the Time Turner I used to use for my classes."

"Can we use it to get out of here and get back to Hogwarts?" Draco asked.

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Draco and Hermione barely said a word to each other after Harry departed. They somehow managed to stumble through the rest of the evening without drawing too much attention to themselves, though Windeldon did ask Draco several times if he was "feeling alright."

Draco had lied and said he was doing "splendidly," but he doubted that his butler was convinced. It would have been a miracle for him to strike a reassuring tone at this point; after all, not only was he lying about who he was, but he also was not, in fact, "feeling alright." Snape wasn't supposed to arrive until the morning, which was a relief because Draco didn't think he had it in him to try and convince yet another person that he was Mr. Salwise.

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Draco's and Hermione's fate become unexpectedly entwined as they are both captured by a powerful and ancient curse. [DM/HG] Dramione Draco/Hermione Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

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- A different Draco / Hermione adventure - Draco and Hermione walked side by side up the broad obsidian staircase, neither of them saying a word.

Draco stole a quick glance at his former rival. She looked strained, but in what way he could not tell.

Is she excited to meet her dear Potter, or terrified of what she might find?" he wondered. He decided it best to say nothing and instead shifted his gaze to take in as much of the environment as possible. His eyes widened as they reached the top of the stairs.

The exalted architecture matched the decor of where they had dined, if not surpassed it. A synergy of gold and obsidian pillars rose to a balcony floor on either side. It felt more like they were in a castle than a home.

However, there were bookcases along the sides of the hallway, and far too many of them. Almost every available space along the wall was filled with a midnight bookcase, each shelf of it packed full with more books than Draco ever longed to read. If he and Hermione were wed in this world, he could certainly see it in the mansion.

His suspicion was confirmed as he looked further down the hall. His eyes first locked onto a giant portrait hung above a bifurcated staircase ahead. A portrait of an all-too-familiar man and a woman faced back at him. The woman's sharp jawline was outlined by the wavy brown hair flowing down around her, a confidently smug look rested on her face. The blond-haired man rested behind her; his arms wrapped around her waist, his lips curled to a mischievous smile.

They looked intelligent; they looked sinister, and in a twisted way they looked… satisfied.

Draco heard Hermione's breath draw in sharply. She must have seen the painting at the same time that he did, or was she looking at something else?

On either side of the painting was a black banner, and on that stood a single-headed chimera. The lion's head of the chimera roared triumphantly while its snake tail hissed menacingly, flashing its fangs.

There was no doubt in his mind now. This home belonged to both of them, together.

Draco hardly had time to process the fact, as his eyes met the one who was standing on the stairs awaiting them. This may have been a different time, in a different world, but there was no doubt, he knew those eyes.

The Dark Lord stood at the center of the second staircase, midnight robes carrying up to a black hood covering the top of his head. His lightning scare arched from the top of his forehead, splitting in two. Each line crossing his eye as they symmetrically went down his face, finally vanishing at the edge of his chin. Voldemort's cruel leadership and almost-reptilian appearance had always sent a shiver down his spine, but what lurked Potter's eyes now was a new kind of darkness that he was foreign to him, one more primal, one more vicious.

"Mr. and Mrs. Salwise, how good of you to meet me here," Harry said, his tone overwhelmingly confident, as if almost daring defiance. Draco noted the formality.

From the tone, Potter is not accustomed to a challenge that he could not surpass. There might be opportunity in his overconfidence, Draco's mind raced for answers. His tone is formal, maybe even political, but with a hint of fond familiarity. Like two close colleagues always on the watch for the other's weakness, and an opportunity to stab the other in the back. Old fashioned bureaucracy, befitting closer to a royal court than of a modern business. I can play this game.

"Well, you did reach us at our abode after all," Draco replied with a tone closely matching The Dark Lord's. Not flaunting the air of superiority that was in Harry's voice, but reaching a level that still boasted arrogance and hid the newfound fear he had for his old rival. Draco followed the response with a smirk; his performance was perfect.

Hermione flashed a quick glance over at him. The look on her face was undecipherable, Draco could not tell whether she was impressed that he could play this game too, or disgusted in the way he was playing it.

"Always one for humor," Harry replied. Shutting his eyes, the Dark Lord smiled faintly and huffed. "I suppose it would be befitting if this was your only abode."

Only abode? Just how rich are we? Draco thought, struggling to keep a neutral expression.

"You could not be more correct, now how may we be of service, Grandlord?" Draco replied.

The more direct we are to business, the less of an opportunity there will be for either of us to make a mistake and reveal that we aren't the real Mr. and Mrs. Salwise, Draco thought.

"There is the matter of importance which we need to, once again, discuss," Harry said, his voice firm. "I do understand that some things take time, especially issues like this of a more sensitive matter. For that I have been patient, but my patience is wearing thin."

Alright, a few dirty deeds to regain this Dark Lord's favor. I should be able to do that, even if it is to Potter, Draco thought, already beginning to feel triumphant. Though his ambivalence is more frightening than Voldemort's, but what possibly could he ask of me that my Dark Lord hasn't already?

Hermione looked over again towards Draco, this time a faint expression of worry was across her face. She is probably afraid that we will have to kill someone. It's no surprise; Gryffindors may be known for their bravery, but there are defined limitations to how far that bravery will go, Draco thought, his confidence welling. Do not worry, Hermione. A Slytherin can thrive in many places where Gryffindors do not dare travel. I will carry out the tasks that you are too afraid to conduct.

"Could you provide clarity to what you mean?" Draco asked assertively.

This is it, this is how I win the Dark Lord' favor, Draco thought, a faint smirk crossing his face. Just do whatever task the prior Mr. and Mrs. Salwise were putting off, and I'll have The Dark Lord's favor for sure.

"We most certainly would not want to keep you waiting on any task we could perform for your objectives," he continued.

"Do not toy with me, Draco. This is not the first time we have had this conversation," Harry growled.

"My apologies," Draco replied courtesy. "Could you please remind me which conversation you're —"

"You and Hermione have not succeeded to breed! Does that conversation sound familiar to that empty head of yours?" Harry snapped.

"Hermione and I haven't — what?" Draco asked as he blinked three times.

"Mr. and Mrs. Salwise, your carriage has arrived," Belden said shortly after they finished their desert.

Draco's heart raced for a moment when he realized he didn't know if he had the coin to cover this meal.

"On the house, as usual," Belden said quickly, as if he had noticed Draco's apprehension.

"Oh, we couldn't take advantage of your generosity," Hermione said. Which, unless she suddenly found a small fortune tucked away somewhere inside that tight dress, was the first foolish thing she had said all night, Draco thought to himself, suppressing his frustration.

"Nonsense, The Dark Lord's closest dining here; you honor us," Belden replied humbly, as two of the staff brought what Draco could only assume was their coats.

Draco's jacket was as he expected, a long dark wool trench coat, fashionable in the wizarding world and muggle world alike. It was Hermione's coat that perplexed him, a dark brown coat constructed from what looked like a high-grade sheepskin with an abundance of puffy grey fur lining along the edges and buttons in the front. It looked more like a fashion-piece than an actual piece of clothing, and he could tell from the brief flicker of her genuine reaction that she felt the same way.

Draco's fierce curiosity to see this new world was met with quick disappointment as they stepped outside. It was clear that they were in a modern muggle city, yet it was a horseless carriage, not a car, before them. The rest was shrouded in a heavy nighttime downpour.

Several of the staff greeted them with large black umbrellas and escorted them to their midnight carriage. Without a word, Hermione stepped inside. Draco hesitated then followed.

The black fabric seats were just comfortable enough to put one at ease, but not comfy enough to encourage resting.

Draco took a quick breath as the carriage began to move at a gradual pace.

Magic performed in the open, none of this makes any sense, Draco thought.

"Granger," Draco said.

Hermione was silent.

"Gran — Hermione," Draco corrected himself.

Hermione did not respond.

"We need to talk about this," Draco pressed. "I mean… we're going out to eat together, casually. We're married? How did that even —"

"There's nothing to say, nor think about," Hermione replied. "This is clearly some sort of dark and complex enchantment. All that matters is finding out how to get out of this place and get back to Hogwarts, and then you face your punishment for your betrayal."

"And what makes you so sure your side won?" Draco asked, turning his head towards her.

Hermione said nothing, her gaze not shifting from the window beside her.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, minus the pattering of rain against the top of the carriage, the vehicle turned off the main road. A wide and pointed metal gate opened for them, and then they were traveling up a winding road. At the end of the road loomed an ominous mansion. Vaulted ceilings and arched windows fashioned an ornate gothic architecture.

A plump, short-haired butler wielding a black umbrella opened the door to the carriage.

"Where are we? Where have you taken us?" Draco aggressively asked.

"This is your home, sir," the butler said with a confused look on his face.

"Oh — of course! Sorry, er… what's your name again?"

"It's Windeldon, sir," the butler replied flatly.

"Of course, Windeldon! I'll try to remember that next time," Draco replied.

"It's okay, you never seem to bother with our names before," Windeldon replied.

"What a surprise, you must be just as charming in this world," Hermione muttered only loud enough for Draco to hear as she exited the carriage.

"Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Salwise," Windeldon replied. They followed him up the steps to the large double-door entrance to their manor.

"Your esteemed guest awaits you in your lounge, sir," Windeldon said as they reached the doors.

"And who would that be, if you could remind me," Draco said, cringing at how ridiculous the request sounded.

Windeldon looked at him again with confusion, and then began to open the front doors. At first, they could see only darkness.

"This is Eveen, he will be your head server," Belden explained, gesturing to the approaching blond-haired man; the server could have passed for a bodyguard, maybe he also worked as a bodyguard. With a quick and graceful bow, Belden silently departed.

"I hope you don't mind, but I've already taken the liberty of ordering you the usual," Eveen said, with a deep but enthusiastic voice.

"Splendid," Hermione replied, playing her role perfectly.

Well, at least that's one thing I don't have to worry about, Draco thought. Even though he had just drank water, his mouth still felt dry.

"We may need some more water though," Hermione said, gesturing over towards Draco.

"I'm fine, Granger," Draco replied reflexively.

"Granger? What a peculiar first name, Mrs. Salwise," Eveen said with a tilt of his head. "I did not know your first name, but that's such a peculiar one… are you perhaps from the Outlands?"

"Oh no, no!" Hermione said with an excessively loud laugh. "My husband here just likes to use my maiden name as a joke once in a while, don't you, honey?"

Draco winced as he felt a sharp kick to his leg.

"I don't know what the big deal is," Draco said defiantly.

"The big deal," Hermione said through clenched teeth, "is that too much joking will get the dementors called on us. You wouldn't want that, would you, honey?"

"Dementors? Hah! We would never do something like that," Eveen said with a short laugh. "Unless you two were imposters and would somehow have had to make it past our security, then we would definitely call the dementors after you."

They all shared a loud and awkward laugh.

"But that would be impossible," Eveen continued. "No one has ever made it past our security before."

"See, Draco? No one ever has," Hermione added with forced civility. "So stop playing with dangerous jokes and call me by my real name."

"Sure, whatever, Her — Hermione," Draco said.

"Fear not, Mr. and Mrs. Salwise, I knew it was but an eccentric joke from the very beginning" Eveen said, leaning back with a posture that implied he was complimenting himself for being clever. "After all, we only offer the very best for our customers, and have purchased the most premium of The Dark Lord's enchantments."

"The Dark Lord, you say?" Draco said, with a level of excitement that seemed a direct inverse of Hermione's. "Tell me more about The Dark Lord."

"Well of course, The Dark Lord rules after the last of the traitorous rebels were defeated at their last stand at Hogwarts," the server responded.

"Hogwarts… defeated?" Hermione whispered, the color draining from her face.

"Is this another one of your peculiar jokes?" Eveen asked with a hint of confusion. "Everyone knows about The Dark Lord's magnificent victory over the Heretics of Hogwarts and their allied rebels."

"Oh, do indulge me," Draco said, intertwining his fingers as he stared at Hermione, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. "I do love a good retelling of an old tale."

"Well, The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters valiantly stormed the traitor's lair. After a climactic battle, some of the heretics were killed, and the rest are still fleeing with their tales between their legs like the spineless cowards that they are."

Hermione sunk into her chair.

"Excellent, I'll never tire of hearing this story," Draco said, his grin widening. "I always knew we would prevail."

"Yes, the Dark Lord finally defeated the fake prophet Voldemort, once and for all, and peace and harmony reigned once again," Eveen said joyfully.

"Yes, exactly — wait what?" Draco asked, his head jerking back up towards the server. "Could you repeat yourself?"

"You mean the part where Grandlord Potter and his noble Death Eaters seized Hogwarts from the heretics?"

Hermione gasped.

"You mean to say," Draco's mouth was as wide open as Hermione's, "that Harry Potter is the Dark Lord?"

The server seized Draco by the collar of his suit and pulled him forward so they were face to face.

"I don't know what satisfaction you get from these jokes, Mr. Salwise," Eveen said, his tone serious. "But is a grave offense to He-who-must-always-be-named to call him by that name. Please, for all of our sakes, control yourself, Mr. Salwise."

"I'm sorry," Draco said diplomatically. "I went too far."

Eveen released Draco. As the Slytherin sat back down, Eveen's stern face turned back to a cheerful one, as if a light switch had been pressed.

"But if it's 'He-who-must-always-be-named,' then why do we call him directly and imply it with that name?" Hermione asked, looking like she was about to be sick.

"Well, any of the four names are okay really. The Dark Lord, He-who-must-always-be-named, The True Chosen One, Grandlord Potter —"

Draco flinched.

"—The Dark Lord is most lenient with us in how we are permitted address him," Eveen finished, oblivious to their faces of disgust.

Their dinner arrived almost immediately after. Hermione was served quail legs with just the slightest crisp upon the skin with a side of fig chutney. A plate was placed in front of Draco, a golden piece of marinated lamb rested on top of it, still softly sizzling. A small portion of brown rice, filled with spiced herbs, rested next to it.

Whoever this Mr. Salwise is, he has fine taste indeed, Draco thought, his mouth watering.

Hermione dived into her dinner without a word. She ate elegantly, following every rule of proper dining manners; but underneath the formality, he could sense her passionate craving. She was starving from their intense battle in The Room of Requirement.

Draco cut off a bite-sized portion of the lamb and ate it. He shut his eyes as the taste washed over him. The lamb was crisp, yet juicy and still melted in his mouth. It was perfect. He quickly found himself taking another bite, and then another.

They ate their meal almost entirely in silence. Draco found that to his relief; so much had happened in so little time, and he was still trying to process it all.

In the corner of the giant room, a violinist began to play. Draco knew the music was classical, but he had never heard the piece before.

With the delicious food, the extravagant atmosphere, he had not felt this good in a long while. He was beginning to even enjoy it.

"Hey," Draco said, glancing at Hermione's plate. "Are you going to eat all of—?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, in a tone that sounded much closer to the Hermione from Hogwarts than the one he'd met here.

"Fine," Draco grumbled, and returned to the last few pieces of his lamb.

When Draco opened his eyes, they were standing at the threshold of a room so elaborate that it made the Great Hall in Hogwarts look like merely a large tavern in comparison. Everything — that didn't breathe or wasn't edible — was gold, and what wasn't gold, was obsidian. Each table was lit by a candelabra encrusted with more different types of brightly colored gems than Draco had imagined ever existed. Each table also had a small legion of staff attending to the diner's needs. It looked like pinnacle of extravagance, suitable for only royalty and living gods.

He looked down. His arms were still wrapped around Hermione, but it was different.

It was very different.

The muggle attire she had been wearing before had been replaced by a short dress of violet satin that curved tightly to the shape of her body. Black lace stretched across her neck and shoulders, winding its way down to her wrists.

Draco no longer felt his wand in his hand, and then he noticed the silver cufflinks on his black sleeve. He had never put them on, he knew that for certain; and they looked expensive, really expensive. His eyes followed the sleeve to the sharp black tux he found himself wearing, with a shiny silver tie with stripes of dark violet that matched Hermione's colors.

Their eyes quickly met, she looked as shocked and confused as he felt.

"Ah, yes… table for two. Mr. and Mrs. Salwise, right this way please. I'm Belden, and I'll be your host for this evening, and must say, you both look absolutely fabulous," a dark-skinned man with a curled mustache said as he approached. Draco and Hermione's eyes quickly shifted from each other to the man. He met their gaze with a wide, toothy smile.

"What? Who — we're not Mr. and Mrs. Sal — whatever," Draco snapped.

"Very funny Mr. Salwise," Belden replied, trying to ignore the comment. "Now if you would be so kind as to follow me this —"

"I'm not following you anywhere!" Draco growled. "Now be gone!"

"Mr. Salwise, please… forgive my criticism, but that is a poor joke," the host explained civilly.

"I said I'm not whoever that is!" Draco spat. "Now leave me alone, muggle, before I —"

"Mr. Salwise, enough, please," the host explained. "We are an exclusive restaurant of the highest quality. If you were indeed serious, that would mean that you somehow bypassed our security and we would have to call the police."

"Do whatever, I'm not afraid of your uniformed muggles, I'm leaving!" Draco snarled.

"You're not afraid of dementors?" the host asked, tilting his head with concern.

"Dementors?" Draco replied, leaning back in surprise. "How do you know about — "

"I apologize for my… husband's twisted sense of humor. We'll take the table now, thank you!" Hermione interrupted with a forced tone of friendliness and even more blatantly forced smile.

"Excellent, right this way please," Belden said suspiciously.

"What are you doing?" Draco hissed.

"If you want to keep your soul, then you play your part. Or just shut up then if that's too much for you to handle!" Hermione hissed as the followed the host across the elaborate room.

Despite the enormous size of their table, the adjacent two golden chairs adorned with red velvet cushions were placed awfully close together.

Two goblets already awaited them, each filled with iced water.

Draco grabbed the goblet as soon as he sat down, drinking deeply, hardly even noticing the dark haired server approaching, despite the fact that he was tall enough to be a half-giant.

"Mr. Salwise, would either you or your lovely wife be interested in Elderflower wine?" the server asked formally.

Half of the water in Draco's mouth went across the table; the other half went down his windpipe.

"Is he okay?" the server asked Hermione as they both watched Draco cough loudly.

He'll be fine," Hermione replied with strained courtesy, "He's having one of his 'narrowly escaping the consequences of his own actions,' moments."

"Yes — to the — wine," Draco forced out through wheezing coughs.

"Me, as well, thank you," Hermione said in a friendly tone that Draco knew for certain was fake.

"Where are we? How did we get there? Where is the Dark Lord? Where are the Death Eaters that were storming Hogwarts? Where even is Hogwarts?" Draco thought, his mind racing.

Draco started across the table at Hermione. Her mouth matched the illusion of fondness in her voice, but her eyes clearly said she wanted to kill him.

Moments passed as they followed Harry down the cluttered isles of the labyrinth. And then Harry stopped in front of an old cupboard, staring up at a dusty old wig.

What is Potter looking for? It doesn't matter. Nothing Potter does matters anymore. His journey ends here, and mine is just beginning, Draco thought, his lips curving into a sinister grin. Let's start this battle with the most menacing thing I can say, something that will send a shiver to Potter's core.

"Hold it, Potter," Draco said.

Harry Potter stopped and turned around to face them. Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward, their wands already raised.

You failed! Draco thought. That sounded so much more intimidating in my head! Aloud it sounded weak! He doesn't even look scared, only surprised! And you haven't even raised your wand yet! I need to make up for lost ground, I need to —

"That's my wand you're holding, Potter," Draco said, lowering his voice as he raised his wand between the two goons in front of him.

Better! I think he's really scared now, Draco thought, partially satisfied.

"Not anymore," Harry panted, squeezing the wand in his hand.

Draco's wand.

"Winners, keeper, Malfoy. Who's lent you theirs?"

That cocky little — He thinks he can talk to me like — I'll show him, Draco thought. I'll tell him off once and for all, I'll —

"My mother," Draco replied.

Harry laughed and then said something else, Crabbe replied; but Draco heard none of it. Harry's laughter echoed in his mind, repeating like a broken record.

He thinks he's better than me, he thinks he's — Draco thought.

"So how did you get in here?" Harry's voice broke through the fog of laughter entangling Draco's mind.

"I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden things all last year!" Draco blurted out, in a desperate attempt to appear like he was still part of the conversation. "I know how to get in."

Goyle said something, but his words were still muffled in Draco's mind. And then he heard another voice in the distance, Ron's voice.

And then there were shouts, and a loud crash

"Descendo!" Crabbe's voice brought Draco back to the moment.

"No!" shouted Draco, grabbing Crabbe's arm. "If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing!"

"What's the matter?" said Crabbe, breaking free of Draco's grip. "It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?"

These two are useless as always, Draco thought with furious irritation. And now they're going to prevent me from delivering the die-dum to the Dark Lord, and they're going to get everybody killed!

"Potter came here to get it," Draco explained, in a tone as if he was talking to an infant, "so that must mean —"

"'Must mean?" Crabbe snarled as he turned towards Draco, "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your Dad are finished."

"We're taking them as our prisoners," Draco countered. "Not killing them."

"Harry, I found this weird book that —!" Ron's voice came from the other side of the junk wall. "What's going on?"

"You're othing', Draco. I'll kill Potter and his friends. And you're going to watch me do it, starting with that Mudblood," Crabbe snarled. "Crucio!"

The cursed soared through the air, barely missing Harry but sent the stone bust near him flying into the air.

I can't let this happen, Draco thought. I can't let this happen.

And then Hermione darted around the corner, her wand pointed in their direction.

"There she is," Crabbe said with a vile sneer.

"Stupefy!" Hermione shouted with a wave of her wand.

"I can do better than that, Mudblood scum," Crabbe snarled, "Avada Kedav —"

Crabbe hesitated and turned to Draco, who had grabbed his arm and held it tightly in a lock.

"Merlin's Beard Draco! What the hell are you —"

The Stunning Spell struck Crabbe smack in the side of his head, sending him flying backwards into the adjacent wall of rubbish.

"What did you do?" Goyle cried out to Draco as he flung a curse at Ron, nearly missing. "We're on the same side! We're on —"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted.

Goyle's wand flew high into the air, vanishing into the sea of clutter about him. Goyle desperately looked around; trying to retrieve the wand, but another Stunning Spell from Hermione sent him flying through the air. Draco watched as Goyle landed in the vast pool of junk, disappearing beneath its surface.

Draco turned back to see his three rivals spread out, with Hermione in the middle, each facing him with their wand out.

"You're all alone now, Malfoy," Harry said. "No one else to hide behind."

"I wasn't hiding behind anyone," Draco snapped.

"You've always been hiding," Harry replied.

How do I get out of this one? I can't kill Potter, and Granger is probably prepared to defend herself, Draco thought. So that leaves…

"I'll take you down myself you cowardly bastard!" Ron bellowed as he charged towards Draco.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Harry shouted.

"Ron, don't!" Hermione said, rushing to stop him.

Excellent, I can always count on a Weasley to provide the perfect opportunity, Draco thought with a grin.

"Crucio!" Draco yelled, sending a bolt of light towards Ron's chest.

"Finite!" Hermione screamed, nullifying his spell.

"Hermione, get down!" Harry shouted, trying to position himself so she was out of his line of fire.

Ron was halfway to Draco now, his face red with rage. Hermione ran frantically to protect him. It was a brief moment of vulnerability in their attack, a moment Draco was not going to let pass.

"Crucio!" Draco yelled again.

"Finite!" Hermione's spell countered his again.

Ron lifted his wand.

"Stupify!" Ron yelled.

"Expelliarmus! Harry yelled, finally having a clear shot.

"Protego!" Draco shouted, and a bright white shield flashed before him a moment before the two bolts of magic could hit him. The attacks bounced off the shield.

"Fini—!" Hermione began, but stopped as Harry's deflected attack knocked the wand from her hand.

She turned as Ron flew by her, knocked backwards by his own reflected attack.

"Ron!" Hermione screamed, watching helplessly as he soared through the air.

Harry hesitated, in shock of what had just transpired.

This is it, Draco thought, this is only chance I'll get of escape!

He lunged towards Hermione, grabbing her and pulling her between himself and Harry.

"Let me go!" Hermione screamed, but her struggling stopped when she saw his wand pointed at her.

"Well, Potter… if I'm going to be accused of hiding, best to play the part," Draco said with a spiteful tone, pressing his wand up against her neck.

Please let this bluff work, he begged silently. Her skin felt warm against his; Draco was afraid to admit that it actually felt nice.

"Release her, now!" Ron roared as he rushed back into the fray. His wand was raised in one hand, and he was holding a large, old book with engraved black leather binding in his other hand.

"Weasleys apparently bounce back quickly," Draco mocked.

"Malfoy, you'll pay for this!" Harry said.

"Not this time," Draco replied, tightening his grip on Hermione. "I think this is the time that I get one of those miraculous 'Harry Potter narrowly escapes the consequences of his own actions' moments. It feels like it's my time to shine."

"Please, Malfoy…," Hermione breathed. "Please let me go and we can talk this out."

"When I get my hands on you," Ron boomed. "I'll —"

"You'll do nothing," Draco snapped. "Nothing or we'll be fighting above your girlfriend's corpse!"

Hermione gasped softly.

I can't believe this bluff is actually working, Draco thought. Now I just need to get to the exit and —

"You harm her and this will be the last place you ever cast a spell!" Harry shouted.

"I'll make sure of that," Ron growled. "I won't let him harm you, Hermione!"

"Care to back up that threat?" Draco snarled back at the two of them.

"Don't worry about me, Ron," Hermione replied weakly. "Just protect yourself!"

"We're getting out of here," Draco said. "And if you two try anything I'll —"

Draco felt the air leave his lungs as Hermione elbowed him in the stomach.

"You Mudblood brat!" Draco snapped, and then moved his mouth like he was going to speak an incantation.

"You won't hurt her! Alvedios Domrehehala!" Ron shouted.

Hermoine's mouth fell open. Draco's eyes widened. A bright flash of blue light engulfed them both, and they were gone.

Silence fell over the room, as Harry and Ron stared at the empty spot where their friend and rival had both been.

"What the bloody hell did you do to them?" Harry shouted, turning towards Ron.

"I cast a spell!" Ron replied, the pitch in his voice higher than normal.

"Well I can see that," Harry countered, "but what spell was it?"

"What? How was I to know? I didn't want Hermione to get hurt, so I cast the first spell I read in this book!" Ron protested.

"You mean a book you just found?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron quickly replied.

"You mean a book you just found… here?" Harry pressed.

"Of course, where else would I have found the book?" Ron responded in a tone that suggested that Harry had asked a dumb question.

"That's probably one of Tom Riddles's books, our enemy!" Harry snapped.

"I had to do something, or else he was going to kill her! I couldn't let him kill her!" Ron yelled.

"So again, what exactly did you do to them?" Harry asked.

"That is… well… a good question," Ron admitted, his eyes frantically scanning the book. "I only understood the first few lines; the rest is in a language I don't understand."

Harry looked over Ron's shoulder; at the pages he had open. The incantation itself was easily legible, but the rest was written in a text that looked more like runes than words. The one other line that he could read said "Of new beginnings in a different time."

"Look, I panicked, okay! You can't make me feel any worse than I'm beating up myself," Ron explained, his tone filled with regret.

Harry closed his eyes, and clenched his teeth.

"We need to go, Ron," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What, no. I'm not leaving her here!" Ron argued.

"We don't even know if she is here!" Harry countered.

"I said I'm not leaving her here!" Ron shouted.

"You can't save her if you're dead, Ron!" Harry yelled.

Silence fell over the room again.

"Look, if we're going to have any chance to figure out what happened, we need to first make sure that Voldemort doesn't destroy everyone at Hogwarts first," Harry said, his tone softer. "First thing we will do after that is try to find Hermione, okay?"

Ron nodded, swallowing hard. The look on his face broke Harry's heart.

"Okay…" he replied slowly. "Save the world, then save Hermione."

Author's Note: Thank you for checking out my work! If you find yourself enjoying my style of writing, then check out my profile to access my original published works (free to read with Kindle Unlimited), available via my website:

www.vinnwinters.com.

Disclaimer: Obviously, I'm not claiming ownership of Harry Potter, or any of his jolly band of groupies, or any of Rowling's creations, only the tale I'm telling you here. So I won't take any more of your time with legal technicalities that you already know but that I need to say anyways; onward, let's get to the story!

Chapter 1

This tale begins at the climactic battle between Voldemort's Death Eaters and the Hogwarts resistance.

Draco's lips curled to a sinister smile as he strolled down the large corridors of Hogwarts, his lackeys Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle walking beside him. The castle shuddered, a symptom from the battle waging outside; the battle between those loyal to Hogwarts and the old ways, against the Death Eaters and the revolution that Voldemort was bringing for a new age of wizards and witches alike.

The Death Eater reinforcements would be storming the castle soon, Draco was certain of it. But not before he got his want back, not before he got his revenge.

A tall wizard with blond hair turned into the hallway. His eyes widened as he spotted the approaching trio and he quickly raised his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" Crabbe shouted.

The wizard's wand fell to the floor, his body shortly following.

"Who'd've thought doin' the Dark Lord's bidding 'ould be so much fun," Crabbe said with a sneer. Goyle grunted in agreement.

Draco frowned, glancing only briefly at the wizard's lifeless body as he stepped over it.

It was him or us. Kill or be killed, we had no choice, he thought in an attempt to reassure himself.

Just before they turned the corner, Draco's heart began to race. A voice reached his ears from down the hall, one that was familiar to him, one that he despised.

"That's Potter!" Goyle hissed. "Wha' do we do?"

"Time to disappear," Draco replied, raising his wand and casting a disillusion spell. The thugs on either side of him quickly copied his gesture, and the trio vanished from sight.

As they turned the corner, Draco cringed. Down the hallway were his rivals, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley. Hermione was in Ron's arms, her lips pressed against his.

"You think the Diss-lusion Charm will hide my barf?" Goyle said, softly snickering.

"They beh'er hold still, I bet I can kill 'em both with one spell," Crabbe responded.

"Don't," Draco interrupted.

"And why not?" Crabbe challenged.

A good question, and why not, indeed? Draco asked himself. A lowly Weasley clearly doesn't deserve the affection from anyone. And Granger is nothing but a filthy Mudblood.

Yet still, a new sensation tugged at Draco, something he could not identify. Something had changed since his last showdown with his old rivals. Was hidden nostalgia now blooming at the summit of their final showdown? Or was it seeing Granger in Weasley's arms that put a bitter taste in his mouth? Either way, as much as he despised what he was viewing, he found that wanting them both dead still felt excessive; especially since 'writhing in agonizing pain' was a perfect alternative.

"They're too far away," Draco said, forcing the excuse to sound convincing. "You'll just miss and give away our position."

"That's stupid, I won't miss," Crabbe protested.

"But maybe you might," Goyle said.

"Let's just follow them for now, we still have the element of surprise on our side," Draco suggested.

"Fine… for now," Crabbe conceded.

"Oi! There's a war going on here!" Harry's voice carried down the hallway, and Hermione and Ron parted. It was the first time Draco had ever been thankful for Potter's voice.

"What do we do now?" Goyle asked.

"They look like they have a plan," Draco said, his grip tightening on his wand. "And we're going to stop them just before they complete it."

Draco was glad his lackeys could not see his look of shock as they watched Harry, Ron, and Hermione enter The Room of Requirement.

"Letting Potter find out 'bout the room, another mistake, Malfoy," Crabbe jibed quietly.

"Shut up!" Draco snapped. "Look, this could work to our advantage. It's us against them, and if it's in that room, that means there are no witnesses."

"I like it," Goyle said with a huff.

"Fine — whatever! Let's get to it. I want the killin' to start," Crabbe growled.

"And he never realized anyone could get in?" Ron's voice was like a nail scraping against glass to Draco's nerves.

"He thought he was the only one," Harry said. "Too bad for him I…"

No Harry, Draco thought as he clenched his teeth. This is too bad for you.

"Accio Diadem!" Hermione shouted.

"What's a die-dum?" Goyle asked. Draco could faintly hear the boy scratch his head.

"Somethin' made up. Obviously, if it was real it would have come to her," Crabbe replied.

"Let's split up," Harry said to his two friends. "Look for a stone bust of an old man wearing a wig and a tiara! It's standing on a cupboard and…"

"I thought it couldn't get any worse after that Weasley snogging. But Harry Potter in a tiara…" Goyle said, gagging softly again.

"He can wear whatever he wants, this room will be his tomb," Crabbe snarled.

"Remember, the Dark Lord wants Potter alive," Draco countered. Crabbe did not respond, making Draco wonder if he ignored him.

"Let's split up too," Goyle suggested. "I'll go after that mudblood and —"

"No," Draco interrupted, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with his reluctance to kill them. "We go after Potter alone."

"That's stupid! Then the other two will know we're here!" Goyle protested quietly.

"Do you want this to turn into yet another tale of how Harry Potter somehow avoided death?" Draco argued.

"So we are going to kill him then," Crabbe said gleefully.

"No, we're going to bring him to The Dark Lord, and watch as he kills Potter," Draco explained.

Crabbe did not reply, and Draco was even more certain that he was ignoring him.