COMPLETE. Hermione convinces Draco to spy for the Order and she becomes his handler. But what are Draco's true motivations? Hard to say when he's still figuring that out himself.
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Hermione hadn't been back to Hogwarts since they rescued the students. It was quiet now as she ascended the spiral staircase to the Astronomy Tower, recalling the chatter of classmates echoing off the walls. She'd never been up there in the morning, and the silence coupled with the pinkish light of dawn gave the tower a strange, foreign feeling despite her nostalgia.
In just a few hours, the castle wouldn't be quiet anymore. There would be screaming, explosions and death.
It was the end, for better or for worse.
Hermione knew her part. Hold the line, get Minerva, Snape, Lavender and any stragglers out of the way. Join a group sweeping the castle. Incapacitate, break wands, kill if necessary.
She felt unprepared.
And yet here she was.
She reached the top floor, wondering why Draco chose the Astronomy Tower of all places. Perhaps because it signified the start of the war, which he blamed himself for, and a time period when he felt completely helpless. Or maybe he chose this location precisely because he had taken control over his life, and fought to mold his future into something he wanted.
Hermione approached the turrets where the telescopes were aimed in different directions around the tower, and watched the sun rise in the distance. It was quiet and peaceful now. The autumn leaves were a brilliant shade of red, resembling spilled blood.
"Hermione."
She jumped and whirled around. Draco was slouched on a chair, legs sprawled, in a darkened corner of the tower. Her heart fluttered at the sight of his blond head and grey eyes flashing back at her. He was wearing his Death Eater robes and gloves, and balancing the sword of Gryffindor by its hilt between his legs. His mask rested on his knee.
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You're going to fight with the sword?"
He spun it around on its tip, holding the sword in place with his finger. Light glinted off of the blade, scattering throughout the tower. After watching it slowly spin to a halt he placed his palm atop the hilt and shrugged. "Maybe. It's a good secondary weapon, and I can hide it in my cloak." He grinned boyishly. "Beheading Nagini was fun. You should have a go with it."
"I prefer my wand, thanks."
"You'd sing a different tune once you've taken something's head off."
She scrunched her nose in disgust. "Doubtful."
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He chuckled, and his dragon hide boots scraped against the floor as he approached her. Tall, imposing, and clad entirely in black. Her stomach twisted nervously as she remembered they were only hours away from the battle, but she smiled up affectionately at him.
"That's how you were dressed when I first gave you the Galleon."
Draco looked down at himself, holding out the fabric. "The robes are ridiculous. They may be scary but you can't run and they snag on everything."
