Dramione Fanfiction

Eclipse of Serpents and Lions

Chapter 3: Unbreakable Whispers

Setting: Hogwarts, June. 

The Astronomy Tower wasn’t just cold; it was *alive* with dread. Hermione pressed herself against the rough stone pillar, her breath shallow puffs of vapor in the frigid air. Beside her, hidden in the deeper shadows cast by a crumbling gargoyle, Draco Malfoy stood rigid, his face a mask of frozen terror illuminated by the eerie green glow of the Dark Mark blazing over the castle. His knuckles were bone-white where they gripped his wand, pointed shakily at Albus Dumbledore.

The Headmaster stood near the parapet, looking frail but unnervingly calm. Below, chaos reigned – flashes of spell-light, shouts, the distant roar of Hagrid’s hut burning. Death Eaters had breached the castle. Draco’s mission. *His* Vanishing Cabinet.

*He’s going to do it,* Hermione thought, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. *He’s going to kill him.* The realization was a physical ache. All the fragile understanding built in the Room of Requirement, the raw vulnerability in the bathroom… it evaporated under the harsh, green-lit reality of the wand in Draco’s hand. She’d followed him, driven by a gnawing dread she couldn’t ignore, a stupid, Gryffindor hope that maybe, just *maybe*, he wouldn’t go through with it.

Dumbledore’s voice, though weak, cut through the tension like a knife. "Draco, you are not a killer."

The words landed with the force of a Bludger. Draco flinched violently, his wand arm trembling. "You don’t know what I am!" he spat, but the venom was hollow, cracking. "You don’t know what I’ve done! What I *have* to do!"

"I know you are afraid," Dumbledore said gently, his blue eyes piercing even in the gloom. "You have been asked to pay a terrible price for your family’s safety. But this path… it will destroy your soul, Draco. There is another way. Let me help you. Let me help your mother."

*His mother.* Hermione saw it then – the fracture in Draco’s carefully constructed facade. His eyes, wide and desperate, flickered towards the Mark in the sky, then back to Dumbledore. The terror wasn’t just for himself; it was a suffocating mantle of responsibility for Narcissa Malfoy. Voldemort’s threat was a noose tightening around them both.

"I… I have to…" Draco choked out, the words strangled. His wand wavered. Lowered an inch. "He’ll kill her. He’ll kill us all."

Hermione’s breath caught. *He’s hesitating.* The arrogant bully, the would-be Death Eater… was *hesitating*. Hope, treacherous and fragile, flared in her chest. *Lower it. Please, Draco, just lower it.*

Dumbledore took a small, deliberate step forward. "There are protections, Draco. Places of safety. Your family *can* be shielded. You need not carry this burden alone. Lower your wand, my boy. Let us discuss–"

The door to the tower staircase burst open. Not Death Eaters. Severus Snape. His black robes billowed like wings of death as he strode onto the parapet, his face impassive, cold. His dark eyes swept the scene – Dumbledore, Draco frozen in agonized indecision, Hermione hidden but undoubtedly sensed.

"Severus…" Dumbledore breathed, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes – relief? Resignation?

Snape didn’t look at Draco. His gaze locked onto Dumbledore. "The deed falls to me, then," he stated, his voice devoid of inflection. He raised his wand.

**"NO!"** The scream tore from Hermione’s throat before she could stop it. She lurched out from behind the pillar, her own wand snapping up. "*Expelli–*"

Draco moved faster. Not towards Snape, but towards *her*. He dropped his own wand with a clatter and lunged, grabbing Hermione around the waist, clamping a hand over her mouth. His grip was iron, fueled by panic. "Shut up, Granger! *Shut up!*" he hissed, frantic, into her ear, dragging her back into the shadows against the cold stone. His body pressed against hers, a barrier of trembling muscle and bone. She could feel his heart pounding against her back, a frantic drumbeat of terror. She struggled, biting down on the hand over her mouth, tasting leather and salt – sweat or tears? He didn’t loosen his hold.

They were pressed together, hidden but witnessing everything. Hermione’s eyes, wide with horror, met Draco’s over his restraining hand. His grey eyes weren't cold anymore; they were shattered mirrors reflecting the green glow of the Killing Curse as Snape spoke the words Hermione had only heard once before, in a graveyard.

"*Avada Kedavra!*"

A blinding flash of emerald light. A soft thud. Albus Dumbledore’s body crumpled, lifeless, over the parapet edge.

Silence. Profound, deafening silence. Even the distant sounds of battle seemed to hush for a heartbeat.

Snape stood immobile for a second, a stark silhouette against the night sky. Then he turned, his gaze sweeping towards the shadows where Draco held Hermione captive. His expression was unreadable, but his voice cut through the stillness like shards of ice.

"The task is complete, Draco." He bent, retrieving Draco’s dropped wand, holding it out. "Do not fail again."

Draco’s grip on Hermione loosened fractionally. He was shaking violently now, his breath coming in ragged, silent sobs against her hair. He didn’t take the wand. He just stared at Snape, then at the spot where Dumbledore had fallen, his face ashen, utterly broken.

Snape’s lip curled. "Control yourself. The others are waiting below." He turned and swept down the stairs without a backward glance.

The moment Snape disappeared, Draco’s strength seemed to leave him. He released Hermione, stumbling back as if burned. He leaned over the parapet, retching violently, though nothing came up. His shoulders heaved with silent, wrenching sobs.

Hermione stood frozen, gasping for air where his hand had been. The scent of his fear, his sweat, and the ozone stench of the Killing Curse clung to her. She stared at Draco’s hunched form, at the discarded wand on the floor, at the empty space where the greatest wizard of their age had just been murdered. Cold rage warred with a horrifying wave of pity. Snape had done it, but Draco… Draco had been the instrument. He’d brought them here. He’d pointed the wand. He’d *hesitated*.

"You…" she whispered, her voice raw. "You let him do it."

Draco whirled around. Tears streaked through the grime on his face, but his eyes blazed with a desperate fury. "*Let* him? What choice did I have, Granger? What *choice*?" He gestured wildly at the sky, at the castle below echoing with chaos. "Snape was the only one who could… who *would*…" He choked, running a trembling hand over his face. "He saved me. Saved my mother. By doing *that*."

"He murdered the Headmaster!" Hermione shot back, her own voice trembling with fury and grief. "And you… you were going to do it yourself! You brought them here!"

"Because I had NO OTHER OPTION!" Draco roared, the sound raw and broken. He took a step towards her, his face contorted with anguish. "Do you think I *wanted* this? Do you think I wanted to spend every night terrified, fixing that damned Cabinet, knowing failure meant my mother tortured to death? Knowing success meant… *this*?" He gestured again at the emptiness where Dumbledore had stood. "I’m not a killer, Granger! I’m just… I’m just a coward trying to survive!" His voice cracked on the last word.

The raw confession hung in the air, stark and terrible. The polished pure-blood prince was gone. This was a boy drowning in guilt and terror, admitting his own perceived weakness. Hermione’s rage faltered. She remembered the boy bleeding out in the bathroom, the desperate plea in his eyes: *He’ll kill her.* She saw it now, the impossible weight crushing him.

"He marked you, didn't he?" she asked quietly, the pieces falling into place with chilling clarity. "The Dark Lord. That’s the price. That’s why you couldn’t fail."

Draco flinched as if struck. He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The haunted look in his eyes, the way his hand instinctively clutched at his left forearm beneath his robes, was confirmation enough. The Dark Mark. Not just a mission. A brand of ownership.

A heavy silence descended, broken only by Draco’s ragged breathing and the distant sounds of the Death Eaters retreating below. The green glow of the Mark was fading, leaving only the cold starlight.

Suddenly, footsteps pounded up the tower stairs. Harry’s voice, filled with grief and fury, echoed from below. "Dumbledore! *SNAPE!*"

Panic flared in Draco’s eyes. He looked from the stairs to Hermione, trapped and exposed on the tower. If Harry found them here, together, after this…

"Go!" Draco hissed, shoving her roughly towards the opposite, darker staircase – the one leading towards the faculty wing. "Get out of here, Granger! Now!"

Hermione hesitated for only a second. The sight of Draco, broken and branded, the echo of Dumbledore’s fall, Harry’s approaching rage… it was too much. She turned and fled down the dark stairs, the cold stone walls blurring past her.

She didn’t stop running until she reached the deserted corridor near the Gryffindor common room entrance, collapsing against the wall, gasping. The Fat Lady stared at her in sleepy surprise. Hermione ignored her, sliding down to sit on the cold floor, hugging her knees. Tears she hadn’t realized she was holding back spilled over, hot and silent.

Dumbledore was dead. Murdered. Snape was a traitor. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. And he was… broken. Terrified. Branded.

The image of him hunched over the parapet, sobbing silently, was seared into her mind. The feel of his hand over her mouth, his body pressed against hers in shared, horrified witness. His raw confession: *I’m not a killer. I’m just a coward.*

Hours bled into each other. The common room was a blur of grief and confusion when she finally stumbled in. Harry was inconsolable, raging against Snape. Ron was pale and silent. Ginny wept quietly. Hermione sat numb, the words "He lowered his wand" screaming silently in her head. She couldn’t tell them. Not about Draco’s hesitation. Not about Snape’s intervention. Not about the Mark. It felt like another secret, heavy and poisonous, binding her to Draco Malfoy in the ruins of everything.

Later, in the dead of night, a soft, hesitant knock sounded on her dormitory door. Hermione, wide awake and staring at the canopy, froze. Everyone else was asleep or down in the common room.

Heart pounding, she crept to the door and opened it a crack.

Draco Malfoy stood in the dim torchlight of the corridor. He looked worse than he had on the tower. Blood trickled from a split lip. One eye was swollen shut. His robes were torn. He swayed slightly on his feet, leaning heavily against the stone wall. The haunted look in his visible eye was deeper, more desperate than ever.

He didn’t speak. He just looked at her, his breath shallow and pained. The unspoken plea hung in the air, thick with terror and exhaustion. He had nowhere else to go. Snape had left with the Death Eaters. His own dormitory was likely hostile territory. The castle was no longer safe for him.

Hermione stared at him, the boy who had tormented her for years, the branded Death Eater, the shattered coward who had lowered his wand. The boy whose blood she’d felt on her hands, whose life she’d saved, whose terror she’d shared on the Astronomy Tower.

He met her gaze, his voice a broken whisper, barely audible. One word, laden with the weight of the world, the weight of his failure, the weight of his utter, terrifying vulnerability.

"…Sanctuary?"