The Silver Envelope

The Final Opponent

Draco wasn't precisely sure when Potter's crew of Aurors broke through the blockade. One moment he was staring at Hermione while thunderous crashes gradually increased in volume overhead, the next he was surrounded by members of Magical Law Enforcement. Draco paid little attention to their storming and shouting, barely noticing as suspects were apprehended and fires were put out. Distantly, he heard Ginny call out to Potter.
Draco didn't see their reunion. He was waiting.
Hermione made no move to run from him. or did she walk toward him.
Jaw clenched shut, Draco searched her face, watching for evidence of horror, hatred, love draining
away.
Nothing, save for moon eyes and parted lips.
Her wand hung from his shackled hand, dripping into the pool of blood at his feet.
Perhaps he should have used the Killing Curse. It would have been quicker, less messy. But Draco knew he wouldn't have been satisfied with that. Despite Umbridge's leadership and Johanna's pursuit of Hermione, Selwyn had been the one to develop the wand polish. He had kidnapped Ignoma and many others. Even before the healer had threatened Hermione, Draco had never intended to let Selwyn walk away unscathed.
Draco had warned her. He'd said this might end badly. She shouldn't be surprised. He had always been open about how far he was willing to go for the ones he loved. She'd watched him call Potter and coldly declare his intention to kill Weasley for her protection. Watched him torture Johanna to
save Ignoma. There was no reason for her to be surprised by his actions
Her eyes had lowered to stare at her shaking, bloody hands.
Draco wanted to step forward and take her into a tight embrace- permanently. But his feet wouldn't move. Not while she looked as though she might still scream in horror.
"'Hermione!"
The sound of her name tore Draco's eyes away from her. He watched impassively as Potter stepped
forward, his shocked face darting from Draco to Selwyn to Hermione.
"What happened?" he asked. "Hermione, are you alright?"
Hermione gave him a slight nod, eyes on her feet, arms crossed over her chest.
"What happened?" Potter asked again.
Draco's dull eyes met Potter's appalled ones.
"He had Hermione."
It was all the explanation he felt up to giving, but Potter seemed to understand what he meant.
"Sectumsempra?" he asked, examining Selwyn's body with a mixture of alarm and disgust.
"Mm." was all Draco managed in response
Draco's gaze had gravitated back to Hermione. An Auror had come up to her, softly asking whether she was hurt. Dazedly, she mumbled answers to their questions, allowing them to shuffle her aside to perform a brief examination. Once the Auror had deemed her unhurt and moved on,
Hermione turned to the battlefield. Iooking for something
With a surge of anxiety, Draco whipped around, searching for Ignoma and Tillo. He had been so focused on Selwyn and Hermione that he hadn't gotten the chance to make sure Tillo was alright after the elf had been blown into the river. The limp bodies of many unconscious elves littered the bridge. One of Potter's people was going round reviving them, checking them for other injuries.
Finally, Draco spotted Ignoma on the other end of the bridge, sobbing as she stroked the head of a very wet and dizzy Tillo. The poor elf looked knackered, but at least he was sitting up. From the
way he was returning Ignoma's loving gaze. Draco could see they were both going to be fine.
The rest of the bridge and surrounding area was still chaotic, though much less noisy. Johanna had been revived and detained and was owing either to a charm meant to shut her up or simply because of spite completely silent. Umbridge's hired men were all restrained as well, many of them still out cold.
Umbridge herself was sitting on the ground not too far away, shackled and spiraling into a state of dull denial as she watched her men get hauled away. Draco caught her eye, enjoying the look on her face as he raised his hand, which was still sporting an iron shackle with a broken chain around his wrist--not unlike the ones she currently wore--and gave her the finger.
"Malfoy."
Potter's insistent voice ripped Draco away from his satisfaction at the look on Umbridge's face, forcing him to turn his focus to Potter's round glasses and concerned expression.
"Did you hear me? You'll have to come with me to the Ministry. It's protocol," Potter said.
That got Draco's attention.
"I'm not leaving her," he said, a note of danger seeping into his voice. "Not again."
Potter's disturbed face flicked to Hermione, who was still staring at the forest, and back to Draco.
He seemed to be assessing the situation carefully, weighing his options. Draco hoped that the blood coating every inch of him would help to accentuate how profoundly serious he was about this point. She would not be leaving his sight -possibly ever again, but certainly not tonight.
Potter swallowed hard, nodding once as he made his decision.
"You'll have to allow me to cast a tracking charm on you then. You'll need to come in soon, make a statement. There'll probably be a hearing. Do you understand?" Potter said.
"I do," Draco said.
Holding out his hand--the one that wasn't shackled Draco allowed Potter to summon a thin, silver bracelet into existence, which slipped snugly around his wrist. He wouldn't be able to remove it himself, and Potter would be able to apparate to his location as long as Draco wore it. It was a compromise, and a rare one, Draco knew. Potter was being very lenient indeed, considering the man who was growing cold at Draco's feet.
"Flint and Pansy are somewhere on the river," Draco told Potter. "The Dementors got to them.
Flint has my wand, so I would appreciate if you could make sure that's returned to me."
Potter nodded, rounding up a few helpers to go after them, relaying Draco's information.
A faint tingle in his hand reminded him of one last task he had not yet completed.
"Umbridge and the others, they all have silver chains. Necklaces and such. I need to destroy them all. Tonight," he told Potter.
Potter raised his eyebrows.
"I made a Vow," he explained. "To destroy the chains. They control the elves." Hermione turned to look at Draco then, curiosity breaking through her shock.
"You made a Vow?" she asked. "To whom, exactly?"
Draco licked his lips, unsure how to explain.
"To the elf magic, I suppose." He lifted his hand to show her, even though the wand polish had left no visible trace. When I connected with it in the factory, I asked it to help me break free, like you said. But it still didn't trust me. It made me swear to destroy its master, which turned out to be those silver chains."
Hermione looked perturbed, but thankfully, Potter seemed to know not to question Draco. He rounded up two Aurors and told them to find the chains around the necks o everyone on Umbridge's team.
"Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco looked down to find Ignoma supporting a woozy-looking Tillo.
"Ignoma is going to take Tillo home now," she informed him.
"Alright," Draco responded, crouching down to look into Ignoma's face. "Are you hurt?" he asked her. He took her small face in his hands, examining her carefully.
Ignoma smiled weakly at him, and the sight tugged on Draco's heart strings. She lifted her shoulder in a shaky shrug.
"Nothing a few days of rest and tea won't fix, sir," she said stoutly.
Draco's blood-caked face cracked as his cheeks pulled up in a grin.
"This time I'll make the tea, alright?" he said. "I'll meet you at home as soon as I can."
She nodded but grimaced at the macabre sight of him. Snapping her fingers, she cleared the drying blood from his face before helping Tillo limp away.
Umbridge. Johanna. and the majority of the wizards on their team had been cleared away by Aurors now. Draco looked out over the remains of the battlefield, noting the blood and scorch marks that were left all over the ground and the stony arch of the bridge, which had miraculously held up throughout the fray. Ginny and Weasley were both still on the ground, allowing healers to attempt to get them back to normal. Most of the elves had been woken and allowed to disapparate with the promise that they would report to the Ministry to give statements.
Potter's Aurors made short work of locating the rest of the chains, as well as the spool they had hidden in the factory. Apparently they had apprehended Boone there and forced him to reveal its location.
However, Draco was much less pleased to hear that, while his wand had been located, Potter was refusing to return it until he had been cleared of all charges at the Ministry. Draco thought briefly about using the very last of his strength to kick Protocol Potter in the bollocks for it, but ultimately decided that punting The Bloody Chosen One's family jewels would not help sway the Wizengamot on his case. It was becoming rather inconvenient, the fact that Potter had decided to learn how to follow rules since their school days.
Left with no wand of his own, Draco used Hermione's again when it was time to cast Reducto at the pile of silver chains, which he had arranged on the ground near the edge of the forest. As the gleaming jewelry was reduced to dust, a tether broke in the back of Draco's mind, releasing him from the bonds of his deal with the elf magic. The hyper-awareness of his hand faded at last.
Hermione watched with a blank face as he kicked the pile of dust, mixing it with dirt for good
medsure.
His mission finally complete, Draco nearly collapsed at the realization that he was about to go home. He would probably have to down a rejuvenation elixir to have enough energy to shower before bed. Sleeping in a layer of purple dust from Hermione's revealing spell mixed with Selwyn's dried blood would not be ideal.
Potter and Ginny walked over when Draco had finished, Weasley trailing behind them with a limp.
Ginny's hands seemed to be better, though she was refraining from touching anything at the moment. Potter had his violet-dusted cloak tucked under one arm, the other around his wife'S shoulders in a close, protective embrace.
"The nearest apparition spot is round the front," Potter informed them, leading the way around the
smoldering remains of the lodge.
Draco was keenly aware of the three paces Hermione kept between them as they walked. She hadn't even drawn close enough to him to take back her wand. She'd said nothing about what he'd done to free her. Only once had she even looked at him, and that had been out of surprise that he'd made a promise to the elf magic in his hand. Just now, she was looking at a faraway spot somewhere in the darkness of the trees, her face oddly blank. It unsettled Draco, that look. He was
so used to seeing her brows furrowed in concentration or her eyes alight with ideas.
A sinking, achy feeling attacked his chest as he realized that, now that Hermione didn't need his protection, she might decide not to go home with him. Draco wasn't sure he would be able to stomach that, sleeping alone in his empty flat, unable to see her or touch her or be certain she was alright. For the second time tonight, Draco considered stunning her with her own wand. There was a kind of dark amusement in the idea of kidnapping her for himself the very same night he'd rescued her from different kidnappers.
"Alright, then," Potter said, stopping in the center of the wide gravel pathway which led to the front door of the lodge. "I suppose I'lI see you two at the Ministry in the morning, then," he said, eyes traveling the too-wide distance between Draco and Hermione as he spoke.
"It is morning, Potter," Draco said with a scowl. "We'll see you after we've had a good long lie-in,
and not a moment sooner "
Hermione did not contradict his use of the word "we"
Potter nodded absently, less concerned with Draco's whereabouts now that he was wearing a tracking bracelet. Weasley, however, eyed Draco suspiciously, his eyes darting over Draco's
shoulder to where Hermione stood
Ginny surprised them all then as she stepped out of Potter's reach and bounded forward to take Draco in a tight squeeze, albeit one that kept her tender palms carefully away from contact with his
shonders
"You were brilliant, Malfoy," she said. Draco got the impression that her statement was directed at
the three people watching this interaction more than it was for him.
He returned the hug and the compliment, and both were truly for her rather than their onlookers.
"You're wicked with a wand, Mrs. Potter," Draco said with a smirk. "I'd feel sorry for your husband if he got on your bad side."
Ginny pulled back, grinning.
"You would," she confirmed. Potter rolled his eyes but didn't refute the point.
Ginny hugged Hermione as well, asking her once more it she was alright. Draco heard her murmur something about only being tired. He wasn't foolish enough to believe her.
And from the look on Wesley's sunken-eyed, surly face as he watched them, he didn't either.
A sudden urge to put himself between Hermione and Weasley had Draco's feet edging towards her as Ginny returned to Potter's side. Carefully, he approached, slowly reaching to take Hermione's hand. Their blood-caked fingers entwined. Draco breathed a silent sigh of relief. At the very least,
she was not pushing away from him.
Behind them, Potter and Ginny disapparated with a mutual crack.
"Are vou okay to apparate?" Draco asked in a low voice. He wasn't sure what he would do if she said no. but he needn't have worried. She nodded, reaching to take her wand from his hand.
Draco didn't know how he sensed it. It was only a slight shift in the air, nearly imperceptible. But he did, and when he whirled around, his shout of "Protego!" came just in time.
Weasley was panting from the effort of casting his silent stunning spell, his teeth bared and eyes crazed, wand pointing directly at Draco's head.
"You're not taking her anywhere!" he spat.
The sight of his haggard, manic expression had Draco shifting involuntarily into a fighting stance, using his hold on her hand to drag her behind him again. Stores of adrenaline he didn't know his body still had pumped through him, preparing him for yet another fight. The last fight of its kind, if
Draco had anything to say about it.
Weasley's face was twisted with torment as he looked frantically between Draco and Hermione.
He was too close to them. Instinct told Draco to blast Weasley back, but Hermione's presence behind him stayed his hand. One more warning, then, for her benefit. But after tonight, no one else would be getting anywhere near her, not for a long time and especially not Ronald Weasley.
"You picked a bad night to test me, Weasley," Draco snarled. "I've just demonstrated how far I'm willing to go to protect her. If you don't want to end up like Selwyn, I suggest you stand down
now.'
Hermione's hand squeezed his, but he ignored her. It wasn't his fault if Weasley was stupid enough to ignore Draco's numerous warnings. At this point, he was asking for it.
"EXACTLY!" Weasley bellowed, spit flying from his mouth. "He's a murderer, Hermione! You saw what he did! You can't trust him!"
Weasley's wand hand was shaking. Draco almost felt sorry for him. He wouldn't stand a chance, as if he had any of the other times they'd dueled. The poor bastard must be desperate to challenge
him now.
"Hermione, please!" Weasley implored. "He's dangerous! You know he is!"
Draco's muscles tensed as he assessed Weasley, noting various points of weakness. His stance was shoddy, the grip on his wand clumsy. Little effort would be required to stun him or otherwise immobilize him, but that was no longer good enough. Weasley needed to be taught a lesson, one that would finally stick. If it weren't for his already precarious position with Magical Law Enforcement, Draco would have finished the bastard off for good the moment he'd raised his wand.
Finally, Hermione spoke.
"Draco.
The sound of his name was soft on her lips. Controlled, cautious. As if he were the wild animal here. not her feral, foaming-at-the-mouth ex-boyfriend.
"Draco, give me back my wand," she said softly.
What? Draco desperately wanted to look back at her, but he couldn't take his eyes away from Weasley and give him an opening to advance. Weasley's eyes were still darting between the two of them, wand shaking as he pointed it, waiting for his moment.
"You promised," Hermione said shakily. "You promised you wouldn't take my wand from me
You have to give it back now."
Angrily, Draco gritted his teeth. Fuck. He knew better than to make promises, and this was exactly
bloody why. They always came to call when he least wanted to follow through with them
"You broke your promise," he spat defensively, eyes still locked on Weasley. "You ran off and got yourself kidnapped! You were supposed to talk to me first."
There was a pause before Hermione spoke again, during which Weasley looked even more confused and alarmed than ever at hearing this intimate conversation about shared promises.
"I left a note," she said slowly. "And you know why I didn't talk to you first. Please, Draco."
Her voice had softened to a caress in his ear. Shed drawn closer, squeezing his hand with
reassurance.
"I'm not letting him near you ever again, Hermione," Draco ground out. "Not after what he did."
*I'll take care of it," she promised, holding out her free hand for the wand. "Please."
Something about her voice, the cool note of finality in it, struck him. Draco broke his concentration
on Weasley to look at her. Her blood-spattered face was set in a serious expression, her wide eyes reaching for what was left of Draco's soul. His boiling rage vanished in a trice.
With a rush of pleasure, he saw it. It was there, plain as day in her face. He almost wanted to laugh.
Weasley was right to think Draco was dangerous. But he was far too thick to realize that, compared to Hermione, Draco was about as threatening as a pygmy puff. "Take care of it" she would.
Well, then.
He had promised her, after all.
Casting a brief wall of protection first, Draco lowered her wand and straightened into a dignified posture. He twirled it around his fingers to offer her the handle. Hermione took it, and Draco couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face as he slipped his hands into his pockets and took a step back. The look of bewilderment on Weasley's face at the exchange was priceless.
Hermione raised her bloodied wand, delicate fingers wrapped lightly around the handle in a deceptively graceful hold. She faced Weasley, chin high and feet confident, striking a magnificent silhouette as the chilly wind played with her curls.
With his usual moronic shortsightedness, Weasley was still aiming for Draco, even though they all knew he wouldn't be able to get anything past Hermione.
"Ron," she said, voice calm and low. "This is your final warning. Leave us alone."
Weasley's face contorted with anguish. Slowly, the end of his shaking wand moved from Draco to Hermione. Inside his pockets, Draco's hands involuntarily balled into fists.
"He doesn't have a wand," Weasley muttered. "It's the only chance I'm going to get, Hermione.
I'm sorry
Weasley's stunning spell left such an unsteady hand, it might not have hit Hermione even if she hadn't blocked it. She advanced, whipping her wand like a knife, knocking him to the ground and disarming him in one harsh move. Uselessly, his wand clattered to the gravel several paces behind him. He looked up at her, tears of sorrow streaming down his face.
Draco could just see her expression from his vantage point. Despite the tear that rolled down one of her cheeks, she looked as stony as a grave.
"Please, Hermione," Weasley begged, hands braced in the air, awaiting impact. "You can't let
Dim-
"Tam not letting him do anything, Ron," Hermione said. "This is between you and me."
Weasley's teeth gnashed as he shook his head, looking her up and down as if he'd never seen her before. He probably hadn't, not like this.
She was a sight to behold, Draco thought as he watched her inhale and aim the tip of her wand at the spot between Weasley's eyes. He knew, just by looking at her regal, impassive form, that her decision was final.

Her face was stoic,
eyes void of sympathy,
voice uncompromising.
"Obliviate."