Draco Malfoy sat in his room. There were thoughts swirling around in his brain, while he gripped tightly onto the Elder Wand. Granger had come back to help him. She had come back despite the threats, the moments of wands being pointed at her throat, the lies, the fact he basically destroyed her reputation — he had done all of that plus more, yet she still came back. Did a promise to his mother really mean that much to her?

"Bloody hell," Draco sighed, as he ran a single hand over his face. He was angry at Granger for trying so hard. If he were her, he wouldn't have agreed to help some pitiful boy. After all, Narcissa had no right to ask Granger for any kind of help after everything that had happened. Draco knew he was a walking nightmare for Granger, reminding her of the war plus more. For the war wasn't the only place Draco gave her scars. There were plenty of times throughout the Hogwarts days when his words dug deeply into her skin. Those were the simpler times, however, even though when Draco was a boy he still knew his father was a Death Eater. The plan — even back then — was always to help Voldemort come into power. Still, there weren't as many scars in boyhood as there were in manhood.

Closing his eyes, his free hand found its way onto his forearm as he gripped the mark that had left its ink permanently etched onto his skin. Despite always feeling painful memories at the simple touch of the scar, Draco couldn't help but almost feel Voldemort this time as if he were still here. It was impossible, for the Dark Lord was gone for good, but it was a power he had never felt before.

I was chosen, he thought to himself. I was chosen. I'm going to do it this time. No more weakness.

"Potter," he whispered under his breath before opening his eyes. "I'm coming for you."

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Hermione stared at her wall, trying to think of what she could possibly do. She had already tried reasoning with Draco, and since that didn't work, what was she to do now?

Harry.

A war was something Hermione did not want, but she also couldn't sit on the sidelines and watch her best friend get murdered, for that would cause a war too. Any option she had resulted in Azkaban or death. There was no in-between it seemed.

"How did I end up in the middle of this?" She sighed, as she gently rubbed her temple. After all, she was tired of feeling hurt, broken, and taking steps backward instead of forward. She was finally becoming okay, and Narcissa had the audacity to ask for help and ruin everything. Being okay was better than constantly feeling as if there was nothing left, and as of right now, Hermione felt as if there was nothing left. No hope, no joy, no future, for who wants a future with a cheater? Skeeter's lies were printed all over the Daily Prophet, and with her and Malfoy drinking together, Malfoy confirming the lies, and all the evidence that points to it being true, Hermione knew she was helpless. Her reputation was officially ruined, and if her own boyfriend wouldn't listen to her, who was to say her best friend would? However, Harry Potter wasn't anything like Ronald Weasley, and that thought alone gave her a glimmer of light.

"Please," she muttered under her breath. "Believe me, Harry."

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Draco made his way through Diagon Alley, taking long prideful strides. His back was straight, his eye contact never faltered, and he looked as if he were a wizard on the search for something. He was, in fact, on the search for something, or someone.

It was time he found Potter, settling this once and for all. He may have been weak when it came to Granger, but that was only because. . .

There was no plausible excuse Draco had as to why he continued to spare Hermione. Yes, she reminded him of himself; yes, he once fancied her when they were younger; yes, she showed him mercy when he was extremely unworthy of such a gesture, but was that enough? Were those reasons enough to continue to spare her, or were there more reasons that he hadn't calculated yet?

This was an answer he couldn't answer for himself, for he didn't know. All he could think about as he asked around for Harry Potter, was those brown eyes he got drunk with the night before. They were both scarred from the war, physically and mentally, and he hated that it had to be her. Why couldn't it have been someone else? Someone that wasn't so obnoxious in school, someone that wasn't a know-it-all, someone that just wasn't Granger? She made him angrier than anything or anyone else has recently — even more than Skeeter had — yet, with anger came feeling. Draco had forgotten long ago what it was like to actually feel something. When one is lost for so long, it's easy to lose sight of the simple things.

Draco tossed these thoughts aside, for thoughts of Granger would not help in his mission. If he were to stand around and think about that frizzy-haired witch for too much longer, how could he find the courage to murder her best friend? However, Draco was tired of this back and forth. He was tired of playing cat and mouse with Granger. He wanted to kill her, to end his misery, but there was something inside of him that laughed. A little dark piece of him laughed daily as it whispered how he would never be brave enough to end her life or anyone's life for that matter.

"Shut up!" Draco shouted to himself in the middle of Diagon Alley, causing people all around him to stop and glance. However, he didn't care. He just wanted to stop getting lectured from himself. His father constantly lectured him as a boy, he didn't need anymore lecturing from himself as well.

"Have you seen Potter?" He spat as he continued to ask around. "Where the bloody hell is Harry Potter?!" He shouted as he stood in front of the Leaky Cauldron. Somehow, he always ended up where alcohol was served.

"Potter?" Someone laughed as they stumbled out of the Cauldron, entirely wasted. "I saws him earlier. He went that way," the person giggled as he pointed to the left. "Was in a rush. Must run to catch him."

"Ugh!" Draco growled for he didn't want to associate with a drunkard today. Instead of thanking the man, he turned on his heels and stormed down the alley. Instead of a man with murder on his mind, he began to look more like a boy afraid of facing his biggest fear. He was a bully, he was cruel, but there was something about Malfoy that constantly feared for another part of him where he felt Voldamort's presence. If he was not supposed to be the one to carry through with all of these murders, the Dark Lord would have never chosen him. He would have never been marked, and he would've never ended up finding Harry Potter and pressing him against the side of a building as he held the Elder Wand to Potter's gulping throat.

"It's good to see you too, Malfoy," Potter spat. "Nice to know you not only steal my best friend away, but you want to steal me away too. I always knew there was a reason why you went out of your way to bicker with me. However, I'm not a cheater," Potter teased angrily. There was no amusement in Harry's eyes, but he couldn't help the sarcasm roll off his tongue.

"Shut up!" Draco shouted, "I don't want to hear the chosen one's mouth run about things he knows nothing about!"

"Tell me you didn't steal my best friend then? Tell me you didn't corrupt her, you filthy — " Harry didn't get to finish his insult, for Draco stepped back only to slam Harry harder against the wall.

"I said, shut up! I know I corrupted her! I know I ruined her! You don't think I know this?! You don't think I know what I've done, Potter?! We're not all perfect like you! Mommy and Daddy aren't all heroes for some people!" Draco hadn't realized there were tears falling down his cheeks until he could taste the salt on his lips. He was broken, broken and didn't understand why he kept making so many mistakes. He had no reason to do this to Harry except that he was chosen for this. But where was Voldemort? His power ran through him, Draco could feel it, but did that mean enough power to take out the true chosen one?

His mind was a whirl. However, he lifted the wand closer to Potter's throat. He opened his mouth, he tried to see through his blurry vision, and he spoke one syllable of the death curse before he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Stop!"

In one instant, Draco's snarling face turned somber as he glanced to his left. Upon doing so, he saw the frizzy hair and brown eyes running toward him that he constantly tried so hard to forget.

"Don't hurt him!" Hermione shouted, "please!"

She used the same tone of pleading she used when Bellatrix carved mudblood onto her arm, and Draco's stomach immediately dropped.

"So it's true?" Harry growled as he pushed Draco off of him. "Hermione comes and you suddenly listen to her? You stop? The Malfoy I knew would've taken any chance he had to end me. Skeeter was right, wasn't she? She was right about you two."

The way Harry spoke caused Hermione to wince. She knew she couldn't admit it was all false because of her promise to Narcissa, but she thought Harry would believe her. Skeeter constantly lied about Harry in the papers, he of all people knew she was phony. However, here he stood looking livid as he glanced between Hermione and Draco.

"Harry —"

"No!" Harry snapped, "you didn't have to deal with Ron. Do you know how upset he is? He's broken, 'Mione, and do you care?"

"Of course, I do!" She promised, but she couldn't help the thought that crossed her mind: Ron isn't the only one broken in this situation. She glanced over at Malfoy and noticed for the first time that he had been crying. Something inside of her stirred at the sight.

"Leave her and the weasel out of this!" Draco growled as he lifted his wand once more to Harry's throat, only Harry didn't wince this time. "Granger has nothing to do with why I'm here right now! I'm only trying to finish what was started! I was chosen, don't you see? Just as you were chosen, so was I!"

"The Death Eaters no longer exist, Malfoy," Harry spoke up once he noticed Draco glancing down at his marked arm. Harry couldn't see Malfoy's mark under his sleeve, but he knew that's what bound Draco to this idea, "the war is over."

"Over?" Draco gasped before laughing. He laughed so hard more tears fell from his eyes. His laughter was a mixture of crying as well, for he couldn't understand how blind Potter was for how thick his glasses were, "the war is only over for those that didn't lose something significant to them. Is the war over for Granger? Have you ever even thought to maybe help her through this? You push the war to the back of your stupid head, but not everyone is like you, Potter. Not everyone is as privileged or as loved. You claim to be her best friend, but I don't see you making sure she's not drinking herself to death or making sure she's all right after Skeeter spreads scum about her, no matter how true. Yet, here you stand lecturing her? Your parents might have been killed by the Dark Lord, but there are other people suffering far more than just the loss you endured." Draco didn't know why he had stood up for Granger, nor did he understand why he had spoken so much. All he knew was that Granger made him feel human. He didn't understand why she kept coming back, and he knew she only cared for him because of the promise to his mother, but she still made him feel. He hadn't felt since before the war, and her presence, her fire, and her determination made him feel like the innocent boy he hadn't felt in the longest time. He ruined her enough, her best friend didn't need to ruin her as well.

"You pretend as if you care about her. What about all those years you tortured her? Calling her degrading names? Don't you dare judge me when you aren't any better," Harry reponded.

"Any better?" Draco scoffed, "Potter, the difference between you and me is I know I'm not any better. I know what I've done, but you still live in this world where you think you're perfect because you were the chosen one to destroy the Dark Lord. I was chosen to destroy other things, but I don't pretend as if I'm an innocent victim. That's why there will be a war until you're dead, until I kill you."

Draco was going to do it. He was going to utter the death curse, for there was a fit of anger raging through his body that shocked himself. He didn't care about Granger, but how could her best friend say all of this? How could he judge so harshly when he was just as wrong? However, instead of killing Harry directly in one swift curse, Granger pushed her way between the wand and her best friend. Although Harry believed Skeeter's lies, she was still loyal to him. The truth was going to set her free in the end. She was going to grant Narcissa's wish, everyone would know the truth, and everything would be okay. She just needed to save Harry. After all, he didn't deserve to die, even if what Draco said wasn't completely wrong for once.

"Don't, Draco," she whispered softly. There were tears in her eyes also, and Draco didn't understand why she was crying too. Was it how Harry had acted? What Draco had said? Either way, the way she spoke his name caused more tears to fall down his face too.

"I have to," he spat angrily. He was angry he was crying so much, angry he was such a coward, and angry that Granger had such an influence on him. He destroyed her so much, yet here she was being the better person than both Draco and Harry combined.

"You don't," she cried, "you don't have to kill him. Do you want a war? Another war, and you could be ended eternally. Is it worth that? Is your revenge upon Harry worth more lives?" She asked. She cared about Harry—no doubt—but she didn't want Draco to find himself bleeding out on a battlefield either. He had come so far, he had shown human emotion, and she felt closer than ever to Narcissa's wish. She couldn't give up now. Even though she was entirely drained and exhausted and ready to say to hell with this all, she knew she had to push on. For the greater good of those around her, she had to continue.

"I just want him gone!" Draco shouted, "I want to stop thinking about the chosen one, about how I failed, about how I can never do anything right! I want it to stop, Granger, and it won't stop!"

"You think killing Harry is going to stop everything? It's not! It's going to cause more deaths. Kill me instead. I have—" she paused as she turned to look at her best friend, the same one that believed a lying reporter over her, "no one," she whispered so low that Draco wondered if that's exactly what she had said. "I have no one. Harry has Ginny and Ron, I have no one. Kill me. I'll take his place."

Draco's anger melted away, but his tears didn't stop. He slowly began to lower his wand as he stared into her deep brown eyes. How could someone so broken, so hurt from everything that happened sacrifice herself like that? Especially for someone that didn't even stand up for her when she needed it the most. Instead of her best friend speaking for her, the enemy spoke in her stead, and she still defended her best friend. She boggled Draco's mind, and he finally understood why the broken clock can still correctly tell time twice a day. Hermione might have been broken, but she could be right.

Draco's arm was at his side as he gripped the powerful wand. Before Harry could open his mouth to respond to what was happening before his very own eyes, Draco grabbed Hermione and apparated to the manor.

Standing in the middle of his dining room, he fell to his knees as he broke apart even more. Draco wasn't one to show emotion, but he couldn't help the loud sobs that broke through his lungs as reality finally hit him. What was he doing? What was going on? Why was he feeling such sorrow suddenly? He thought he knew sorrow, but he had never truly understood it until Granger. He saw how broken she was, how much he truly destroyed her, how she wanted to sacrifice herself, how she kept coming back, and he couldn't handle anymore. Mudblood or not, there wasn't a more pure witch out there, he was sure of it.

Hermione stood there as she watched her old enemy break into smaller pieces on the floor. She knew that Draco was a broken person, but sobbing was something that proved just how broken he was. He had held it in too long, he could no longer hide how he truly felt.

Instead of trying to consul him with words, Hermione knelt next to him. Before he could protest, she put her arms around him and hugged him gently. He might've been a monster to her, he might've been pure evil, but she knew that everyone needed a hug. Something told her Malfoy never got many of those.

She was cautious with her affection, for she assumed he would push her away. However, he surprisingly pulled her closer to himself as he cried even more. He began to wonder if she perhaps did care, for Narcissa wasn't here. Granger didn't have to hug him, she didn't have to help him, but maybe she did care. Maybe she wasn't just here because of that stupid promise, but because it was the right thing to do.

Draco sobbed on her shoulder as he gripped her tightly. He wanted to tell her she did have someone, that she wasn't alone, that she didn't need to sacrifice herself. He wanted to tell her that she had him, but he didn't speak a word. Instead, his sobs turned into muffled cries as they both sat on the floor and held each other gently.

*****
oh my goodness, guys, it's been so long! I'm sorry it's taken me this long, but I've been in college, and I have been so busy. Like I barely even sleep, for I am constantly studying. Because of that, I haven't exactly written much. However, I want to give this story my best since I truly love this plot. I hope you all enjoy this, though, and thank you for all the votes and comments! Let me know what you think about this chapter! Also, the time line for this is set a few years after the battle of Hogwarts.