tears in heaven | dramione

The Trap

"Do we have to run farther?" Hermione asked, gasping, her lungs screaming for air. The effect of the Polyjuice had yet to wear off, so Hermione still looked like that woman from Grimapple. At the same time, Draco's appearance was still that of the man, the husband.

"Don't tell me you're tired, Granger," he answered, a smirk on his face.

Hermione had to admit to herself that even though he was grinning like the cocky and arrogant Draco Malfoy that he is, he was somewhere deep, deep inside his heart a nice person. The thought made her wonder what happened to herself. They were enemies and, yet, she tried to see the best in him.

Raising her head, she found him uncomfortably close, staring deeply in her eyes. "Are you alright?" She could hear him and it wasn't the man's voice, but Draco's own that rang in her ears.

There was something wrong.

She thought for a while before answering. There was something wrong but she couldn't quite figure out what. She felt uneasy about everything. But it was a fact that she hated the war and everything that came with it. Hermione shook her head, telling herself that she had to continue and keep fighting. It was odd. And then there was him, Draco Malfoy, right before her eyes, strong and mighty,  but dark and dangerous as death itself.

He repeated the question.

"We mustn't stop. I think I have a plan," she uttered, but her voice slowly broke as each word exited her mouth. Something wasn't right.

Draco lowered his head. "Can I tell you something?"

She frowned and nodded to him.

"It's a trap. I'm leading you into a trap. I've been since we left that grim old town. You do realize that I have a family and the Dark Lord would kill them if he found out I helped you. And he'd kill me too. It's my only chance, you, sending you straight to him." His voice was calm, like he was reading something from a piece of paper.

Hermione stared at the platinum-haired young man unable to comprehend. If that was true, then it was over. Humanity's only hope were Ron and Harry, but since the beginning of their friendship they couldn't do much without her. And Voldemort, she couldn't even imagine what he could do to her.

By that time, she was barely able to keep up with him and asked him several times to slow down. She considered stopping and running away, but she didn't want to let him go back to Voldemort, even if it meant her death. Draco wasn't a good guy, but he didn't deserve all the darkness. His only response was a low sigh. He didn't seem to listen to what she was saying.

After a while he only disappeared in the shadows.

She called for him. "Draco, Draco, Draco..."

He didn't answer. Instead, a witch's voice, from her nightmares, screeched and cursed around her. She couldn't see Bellatrix around, but she must have been there. And if she was there, Voldemort was close as well. Soon three blue-ish silhouettes made an appearance.

The first one was Draco, looking down.

The second one was Bellatrix, smirking.

The third one was Voldemort.

"They've got Potter and Weasley," Draco whispered.

That couldn't be real. That wasn't right. Harry and Ron had gone through a portal to God knew where and they had to be safe there. Dobby was with them and he was a loyal free elf that could protect the two. And even if they might have needed her more or less, they could manage surviving at least on their own. She couldn't let herself believe that.

Besides, she couldn't believe in Draco having returned to Voldemort. What they had talked up until then, it all indicated that he wasn't the vile and cruel person he had previously appeared to be. Hermione didn't want to believe in that.

Then things clicked in her mind. She knew what was wrong.