A/N: The only thing I can take credit for is the concept of this story... Wish I owed Draco... but sadly I do not. Or any of the other characters - those belong to Ms. Rowling.

For Freedom
By: Frost Leonhart

Hermione

Rubble exploded above her head. What had Ginny shouted? Harry and Draco were dueling on the fourth floor? Had she heard correctly? She prayed she hadn't. Shocked, she stood slightly out of the alcove, a target for any Death Eater. Hermione felt someone wrap arms around her torso and she was heaved back into the alcove as another curse almost hit her.

"Wake up!" Lavender screamed as said curse hit the marble wall above their heads. As the destroy marble showered down on them, a piece cut her bottom lip. Blood oozed from the wound, yet Hermione remained frozen in shock. Her blood pounded in her ears. Her heart felt like it was jumping out of her chest.

"What happened to her?" Ron asked after diving into the alcove. His eyes swept over Lavender's form to make sure she hadn't been hurt. Death Eaters would pay dearly if his fiancée was hurt in anyway. She seemed alright. Ron kissed Lavender in relief.

"Dunno. She was perfectly fine and then Ginny shouted that Harry and Draco were dueling and she went all funny," Lavender answered while pointing a thumb at Hermione and firing a curse out of the alcove to buy them some time.

'Harry and Draco! Oh Merlin!' Hermione's mind screamed over and over again. She had to do something. She just couldn't... Not caring, Hermione came out of her frozen state as Ron was getting ready to perform a healing charm on her and fired hexes so she could slip past the enemy and race up the stairs. 'Run! Run! Run!'

"Where are you going!" Ron and Lavender both shouted after her. 'Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!' She ignored them and continued up the stairs. 'Before it's too late!'

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Her lungs burned like fire by the time she made it to the fourth floor. She heard the faint blasts of a private duel. As she rounded the corner a small part of her purred in happiness – he was there, within her physical reach, after so long. He was still as beautiful as she remembered. Like Adonis. His white blonde hair was slightly longer, but still considerably short for a Malfoy; a silent protest against his father. He was more toned than she remembered. Dark circles marred under his eyes from the lack of sleep everyone suffered from in this dratted war. Sweat trickled down the side of his face. Cuts and bruises easily visible. Both he and Harry looked like one good spell would be the end.

"Adava…"

"Sectum…"

Her mind screamed at her to do something. Anything. She reacted without much thought. Running between the two men, a cry of no escaped her lips as a jet of red slashed her back, tearing it open; and the deadly jet of green flew into her chest.

The pain was not even for a fraction of a second. Her warm honey brown eyes locked with his cold steel grey ones. The force from the spells caused her body to turn. She fought to be able to drink in his sight while she could, but failed. Remorseful green eyes came into her vision briefly. She had kept Harry alive. He would live to fight Voldemort and free their world from terror. Her body continued its turn and finally fell to the ground. As her life slipped from her and the darkness took over, his steel grey eyes returned to her vision. They held so many emotions - horror, shock, grief but most importantly love. Yes, Draco Malfoy loved her – Mudblood, Little-Miss-Know-It-All, Granger, Hermione. Her eyes closed one last time and never opened again.

Harry

The two young men remained frozen for ages. Memories flashed through their eyes of the young woman who now laid dead. But this was not the time or the place to mourn for his beautiful, smart, best friend who had become his blood-sister last year. Harry wondered why Malfoy wasn't taking this opportunity to attack. To make one of his usual snide remarks. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from Hermione's prone form and looked to his long time adversary. What he saw shocked him further.

Tears fell from the blonde's anguished eyes. Harry looked to Hermione and then back to Malfoy; and back again. Did Malfoy love Hermione? Did she return his affections? …It certainly explained why Hermione had suddenly given up on Ron after that huge fight in early sixth year… It explained why she would scan every paper for Death Eater news… She had been checking for his arrest, his death.

Shell-shocked, Harry felt as if he had been petrified by the discovery of Hermione's darkest secret… she had loved the enemy.

Draco

Draco couldn't stop replaying the recent scene in his head. If he had know that Hermione had been nearby, he would have never casted the Killing Curse. He had killed her. His true love. How would he live with himself knowing that it had been his fault? He fought the sob that was clawing up his throat to escape and rushed to her side. He gathered Hermione into his arms, her body already cooling and buried himself into her. Sobs tore out of his throat, as if his soul was dying.

Her scent teased him and that brought another wave of grief. He didn't care if Potter saw. Hell, he wouldn't care if Potter killed him. All that mattered was the woman in his arms – the one who would never open her eyes again.

A memory rose from his subconscious, one he had repeatedly smothered for it was far too dangerous to dwell upon. Yet now it seemed to barge into his mind.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It had been in their sixth year. When they had been chosen as Prefects. They had been laying on the couch in the Room of Requirement, their room that smelled of parchement and lavender and wood polish, and was a private santuary against the real world. She had been reading some book, holding it with one hand while the other traces nonsense patterns through his hair. He had been simply content feeling the touch of her fingers. Listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeats – it was a song he would never forget. Every once in a while, opening his eyes to watch the flames in the fireplace. He found himself suddenly curious.

"Why?" he asked.

"Why what, love?" She bookmarked her page and shut the book.

"Why are so eager for the Dark Lord's downfall?" He pushed himself up to see her more clearly.

"Draco, I don't think this is something we should discuss." She feared that by the end of this discussion they would no longer have each other.

"I'm just curious… We have such different viewpoints… I'm trying to see it from yours and can't come up with anything." He seemed unable to cease in amazing her.

Hermione was quiet for some time. Just when he was about to beg her to say anything, she began,

"See this castle? It's still standing, it is still a place of safety because of Dumbledore and the Order. Here, people have hope and happiness and peace… Things under Voldemort would be different. This school's sole purpose would be to train students to be obedient soldiers to do his bidding. There would be no free will. Innocents would die for what? Because they don't have the perfect blood? I would be dead by now if Voldemort was still in power… Dead because of something I can't control. It would be like World War II – Hilter and his vision of the Aryan race – you know? …I would rather die that let that happen… …Besides, we wouldn't have this." She laid a hand to his cheek and smiled.

"Have what?"

"Listen outside." He heard a number of things. The logs crackling in the fireplace. Brids singing outside in the spring weather. The laughter of the students outside. The warm spring breeze rustling the new leaves. And of course, Hermione's heartbeat… He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this peaceful, this relaxed, this happy.

"Hear that?" He nodded, his eyes opened and locked with hers. "That's the sound of something I will lay my life down for...freedom."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Well, she had definitely done that…

Oh, how her explanation had haunted him since they had gone their separate ways. At the time, freedom was something you attained through titles and wealth and power and of course – being a pure blood. Not being willing to die. And now, freedom was some crazy utopian ideal; it didn't exist. All that truly existed was power and death.

Draco cradled Hermione's face in one hand and kissed her. New tears burned his eyes from her ice cold, unresponsive lips. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

Draco found Potter – no, Harry – attempting to comfort him. He and his advesary had shared a common link – Hermione. They had both loved this woman.

Redemption

A chilling laughter echoed through the corridor and then, in a puff of black smoke, Voldemort appeared with his Death Eaters close behind.

"I didn't know your son had a taste for Mudbloods, Malfoy." Draco looked up to his leader and then to his father. Fury and disgust burned through his storm grey eyes.

"I have no son, my lord," Lucius clipped out.

For some reason, this did not hurt. Draco looked out a nearby window. It was a few hours till dawn. He heard spells whistling in the air. Cries of pain and sadness. Screams of terror. This was never going to end. This was not freedom – this was oppression.

Faintly, Draco could hear Harry and the Dark Lord were arguing above his own heartbeat and breath. He felt like he was getting a glimpse of his future world. It was completely opposite to that far away memory of his, when he had been happy, at peace. Draco put his wand to his temple. A strand of liquid silver weaved out. He bottled it in a cracked vial that had been in his pocket. Spells were now flying around him. Neither touching him nor Hermione. Harry was protecting him. Harry-frigging-Potter was protecting him of all people! Draco Malfoy. Spawn of a Death Eater. And in that moment, he saw exactly what Hermione had – Harry was a beacon of freedom.

The ten years Voldemort had been MIA had been peaceful. The six years of school he had attended before the Second Wizard War had been the happiest of Draco's life. He had been at Hogwarts, away from his family. If this final stand continued much longer, Hogwarts was going to be nothing more than rubble. In this most recent year, his life had been nothing short of horrifying.

"Adava…" Draco had heard from more than one person.

'For you Harry Potter… For you Hermione, my love…' Draco tackled Harry and used his body to take every jet of green. Harry's bright green eyes locked with his steel grey ones.

"For…freedom…" The word came out in a whisper and his eyes closed.

Time

'Did Malfoy actually just do that?' Harry's mind raced. He gently rolled Draco's body off of him. He quickly dived into an alcove and allowed himself to hyperventilate for a brief moment. What the bloody hell was going on? Hermione throws herself between Malfoy and him to save them from inflicting harms on each other. Malfoy seems more torn up of Hermione's death than him and cries – frickin' cries – about it. And then, Malfoy – no, Draco – sacrifices himself so Harry can fight Voldemort. And what had been Draco's final words? For…freedom? Hadn't that been Hermione's mantra?

"Come out and fight me like a man!" Voldemort hissed …Hermione hadn't love the enemy – for Draco wasn't the enemy… She had changed him.

Harry looked down to his hands. One clenched his wand; the other gingerly held a cracked vial. Draco had pushed it into his hand during the tackle. Harry recognized the vial's content as a memory. He hid the vial in the alcove to protect it; if he died, someone else would surely find it. He stepped out of the alcove and went to free the world from terror.

It was time. Time for peace. Time for love. Time for freedom.

Freedom

Harry, Ron and Ginny entered the white coliseum on the nothern corner of Hogwarts. A tribute to the fallen heroes of the Second Wizard War.

At Harry's request, Hermione and Draco had been buried together, and no one could understand why. After all, it had been Draco that had casted the spell that killed her. But Harry had been adamant about it. He even designed the layout. Within one of the many alcoves of the coliseum, Hermione's name was etched into white stone with gold lettering, underneath laid her ashes. Two feet to Hermione's right, Draco's name was etched into black stone with silver lettering. Between the two headstones, two intertwined roses, a gold and a silver, hovered.

"Looks nice… Still dunno why you insisted on burying Hermione with the Ferret," Ron gruffed out as he nervously fiddled with his wedding band.

"Go closer," Harry prompted. Ron walked further into the alcove and the intertwined roses glowed.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron muttered as a scene flashed to life. "It's kinda like a Pensive and a movie scene put together," he observed.

"I wanted something that would act like a Pensive but allow the looker not have to actually be in the memory… It's called a Memory Projector," Harry explained. Ron and Ginny watched, the memory Draco had given to Harry that fateful night, with absolute awe.

"I'm just curious… We have such different viewpoints… I'm trying to see it from yours and can't come up with anything…"

"They were in love!" Ginny whispered as the truth dawned on her, tears coming to her eyes.

"I don't get it," Ron mumbled. His mind couldn't fathom beautiful, smart Hermione snogging an insufferable git like Malfoy.

"Hear that?" He nodded, his eyes opened and locked with hers. "That's the sound of something I will lay my life down for...freedom."

The image faded as Hermione pulled Draco to her, for a kiss, by his tie. A devilish twinkle in her eye with a matching smirk.

"They truly loved each other, didn't they?" Ginny voice was thick with sadness that the two would never share a life together. Harry nodded. Both turned to Ron; waiting for him to explode.

"Where did you get the memory?" Ron softly asked.

"Draco gave it to me, before he sacrificed himself… The last thing he said was: For freedom."

"Hermione's mantra," Ron recognized it immediately. "Are there any other memories?"

"A few… Hermione supplied a lot of them." Ron and Ginny looked at him quizzically. "I found them in the small bag she had all our stuff in… and Narcissa Malfoy, supplied a few. And, of course, the Grangers. I figured if anyone wants to donate a memory, they can." Harry pointed to a small table near the alcove, with written instructions on how to donate a memory. Ron nodded, trying to swallow the tears that threaten to fall. Ginny went to Harry's side, wrapping her fingers with his.

"At least they can have the afterlife together – in freedom," Ginny softly said.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

For all of eternity, the intertwined gold and silver roses shined. Showing to the world that a Death Eater could have light and that a Phoenix could have darkness. That love could grow between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. That the love between two of the most unlikely people could withstand death.

~ FINITE INCANTADUM ~