The Paths We Take | By : Luckycharms Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 18436 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That right goes to the AMAZING JK Rowling. No profit is made off this story. Shout out to Scorpia11 for being my awesome Beta!! |
“Over-thinkin'
I don't know who I am without you
I'm a liar and a cheat
I let my ego swallow me
And that's why I might never see you again”
Empty Space- James Arthur
Chapter 12- Slytherin Pride
Friday, May 7th, 1999
“Help me! Please!” Harry begged while on his knees. He still couldn’t see a thing, but he at least was able to breathe somewhat better. However, each breath he took, warmed his face as if something was covering his head. Though what had him completely unnerved, resided in the fact…that no one seemed to hear his forlorn pleas.
He had no idea what was happening to him and try as he might, he could no longer pick up the voices of the people in the Library. Though his wrists grew uncomfortably hot; almost as if something was consistently rubbing hard against them as the pain in his face caused his head to feel like it was cracked open.
“You said he might feel pain, not that he would experience wounds as well!” Pansy yelled as she turned her scowl away from Thorfinn and glanced at Potter’s hands while she and Narcissa tried to lay Harry down. But the strangest thing occurred, and his body wouldn’t budge. They then tried to help him stand instead, but once again…his body wouldn’t move. “What the bloody hell is going on?”
“A-are those…rope burns?” the Malfoy witch shrieked as she watched the raven-haired boys’ skin, directly above his hands, turn a dark shade of crimson and impressions of twisted twine wrapped around his wrists. “Is Draco being tied up? What’s happening to my son?” she pleaded while lifting the Chosen One’s hands to examine the wounds appearing on his flesh. “WHERE ARE THEY?”
Elizabeth quickly ran to the map and searched for the blood pool before looking up at the date. A loud gasp escaped her lips as she clutched a hand to her chest and stumbled backwards in sheer terror. Though, if it weren’t for Neville standing directly behind her, she would have fallen off the stage as she lost her balance. The Gryffindor caught the muggle and quickly righted her as everyone looked to them in bewilderment…waiting for an answer. Elizabeth began to hyperventilate as Neville set her down in an open chair, and when Luna rushed over to try and help calm the woman, the brunette wizard raced back to the wall to see what had Hermione’s mother in such a fright.
“Oh…my…Godric…No…” he stated in pure shock.
“What?” Molly inquired as Thorfinn raced to the stage and stood next to the young student. “Someone say something!” she demanded while pulling a stopper out of a Calming Draught she had found in her purse and handing it to Luna to give to Elizabeth.
“Fuck…” Rowle soundly spoke before inhaling deeply. “They’re in their first Big One…They’re-they’re in Salem…Massachusetts…1692.”
But no one had a chance to speak as Harry let out a loud grunt and his back heaved before suddenly slumping forward; his head now dangling in front of him as he faced the floor. Thorfinn recognized the action instantly; it was something he was all too familiar with as he had been punched in the stomach more times than he could count after being punished by the Dark Lords’ puppets. Yet as he tried to imagine the situation the youngest Malfoy had found himself in, The-Boy-Who-Lived’s face snapped to the right just before a large red bruise began to appear on his cheekbone and it abruptly occurred to the former Death Eater, that Draco was in no position to fight back.
“He’s been outed…” he whispered as he watched Harry’s head snap to the side again. “Merlin, I think he’s been accused of witchcraft!” he claimed as eight sets of eyes stared up at him in horror.
“We don’t know that!” Ron shouted in a mixture of fear and worry.
“He’s having a bloody vision, Weasley! And they’re in Salem of all fucking places! You don’t get beat in Salem unless you have been accused!”
Another punch landed hard and fast at Harry’s face and he began to spit up blood as a foreign man in front of him shook his punching hand in the air and whooped.
“We have him now, men!” the man spoke with a laugh as he clenched his hand to rid the pain after striking Draco three times now. “A Satan worshiper caught in thee act! Thee Devil’s own son, I tell you!” he stated before spitting on the sack that was preventing Draco from seeing the faces of those who dared challenge him.
Four men from the village encircled the blonde wizard, each filled with hatred for any of his kind. The older man to the blonde’s left, was tall, with beady black eyes, a dark grey overgrown beard, and sinuous muscles built from years of hard labor. His sandy brown-haired comrade statured in front of the Prince, was a young man barely older than Draco, vying for the attention of the tall mans’ second eldest daughter...the promise of her hand in marriage was his sole reason for helping capture the blonde tonight. And the last two, standing directly to the Slytherin’s right, were broad shouldered, stocky men who worked in the jail, or better known as 'Salem's dungeon', reveling in the torment of others as they forced confession before their prisoner’s demise.
Although the main issue in that moment for the blonde tasting blood within his mouth, was that he had dropped his wand in the darkened woods and had no way of summoning it with his hands tied tightly behind his back. He tried to use wandless magic to break the sharp thread binding him, but after the second punch to his face, he could no longer concentrate, and his head was pounding as a headache throbbed painfully throughout his skull.
“Please…” Draco begged while on his knees, hoping he could lie his way out of mess he’d found himself in. “Please, I have done nothing wrong! I am no follower of Satan!”
“Lies! Be a witch, you are! Thee Devil be but a deceitful creature!” one of the men to the right of the wizard spat venomously.
“I AM NO LIAR!” the Slytherin shouted in hopes that maybe someone from his group could hear him as his heart beat rapidly within his chest.
“We saw you and your wicked ways!” the young man claimed vindictively. “We saw thee call upon the false God and now you must confess thy sins!” he viciously spoke before winding up to punch the Prince once more.
“Enough!” the burly man declared strongly, right before the young Puritan was about to strike Draco for a fourth time. But though the bearded man had saved the blonde from another hit, he glowered angrily with his arms crossed, clearly trying to decide if they should even await a confession to end the wizards’ life. “We shall take him to the dungeons. Reverend Parris and his judges will know what to do with this…demon. Though I suspect he shall have a trial not…and hang come morn light” he chuckled malevolently. “Pick him up!” he demanded as the men around him quickly grabbed Draco’s biceps ruthlessly and forced him to his feet. However, before the men could walk their prisoner out of the woods, the elder man stood so close to the Prince, that even Harry could feel the warm rancid breath upon his face. “If we could burn you witch, we shall. Tis but a quick death, so instead I shall beseech thee court…so I can watch you hang as thy eyes watch you slowly perish back to the hell you came from…” he smirked cruelly. “After I personally see to your…confession.”
The village men savagely laughed as the bearded man stepped to the side and they began to drag their hostage from the trees. Fully aware of what was about to happen, Draco struggled against both his bonds and the single set of hands which held him, as the others discussed their plans for his torment.
Thinking quickly on his feet, the Slytherin Prince used the uneven ground to his advantage and after purposely stumbling a few times, loosening the man's grip on his hands, he tried to make a run for it. Where he would head though with a sack over his face, he wasn’t sure, but he refused to be taken quietly.
Running as fast as his feet would allow, Draco made it all of twenty feet before being tackled by the youngest member of the group. Furious with his attempted escape, each of the Puritans took turns in kicking and lashing out at him. One had then picked the Prince up by his shirt and punched him twice in the same eye that'd been damaged earlier, while two others kicked him in his lower back and groin until the unmistakable sound of a bone breaking in his ribs, rent the air. He held back his cry of pain as he bit his lip, drawing blood in the process, before the men suddenly stopped, but with the bag over his head, he couldn’t see why.
"ENOUGH!" growled the senior as he pushed the others back to cease their onslaught. "He cannot confess before thee good Lord if you kill him now?" The others were breathing hard as they stepped back and pushed hair from their eyes, silently agreeing with their leader. "You two" the grey-haired man sneered as he gestured to the stocky men "drag him between thee. We have but a long walk and I want him inside before daybreak!"
Grunting in agreement, the two hoisted Draco between them by his biceps while the youngest bound his feet together to keep him from running once again.
Pain riddled his body as his feet dragged over the ground. He could feel his left eye swelling shut as they moved further through the woods. The broken bone or even bones, he didn’t know at this point, of his ribs sent waves of agony through him as his arms brushed up against his right side.
Unable to concentrate on anything more than the pain spiking every other time they took a step, or his feet hitting something in the path, Draco slumped to the ground just outside the tree line and succumbed to the darkness as Harry was suddenly ripped from the Slytherins’ body and lay helplessly on the Library floor in a terrified tremble. All the while, Julia Hamman watched with tears falling from her eyes as her damned friend…was hauled away.
Salem, Summer of 1692
“I think one of us needs to go look for them?” Blaise stated as he rubbed Hermione’s back on Julia’s straw filled mattress when they realized the young girl had gone after Draco.
“I’ll go” Ginny replied with her arms crossed and her fingers resting upon her lips. “You need to stay here in case Joseph comes back and is angry that his daughter is missing. You’re the strongest next to Blondie and can probably explain things better since Mione is completely unstable.”
“I’m not unstable…” the brunette softly spoke while rubbing the back of her neck with her hand and glancing up at her red-headed friend before licking her lips as two questions wouldn’t leave her mind. Though she supposed by now she shouldn’t even have to ask. “Gin…?”
“Yeah, Mione?”
“How…how do you trust Draco so easily…? After all he was the one who let the Death Eaters into the school. I mean, if he didn’t do that then Fred might still be alive…And…and how can you be so sure he is willing to still stay friends with you and be nice to you once we make it home?”
Ginny lowered her hand slowly from her mouth and flickered her eyes to Blaise who also appeared stunned by the questions. However, Hermione kept her eyes on the Gryffindor as she awaited the answers, she felt she so desperately needed to hear in order to understand her feelings for the Prince.
“Mione, I…we were kids…” she claimed softly as water began to coat her soft brown eyes, “a-and we were at war. Draco had as little of a choice in what he could do, as we did. We all know he didn’t want to do any of those things but was forced to, otherwise…otherwise he and his family would have died. Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have done the same for me or for Harry…? For your own parents? He was just a kid…I thought we were over this-I thought…I thought you trusted him…”
“I do!”
“No, you don’t. You wouldn’t be asking me this if you did! Gods Mione, you told him you trusted him! You told him you forgave him already!”
“I know I did! It’s just hard to not think about!”
“Merlin!” Ginny threw her head back in annoyance. “He was forced into a life he never should have been a part of! Yes, he made horrible mistakes, but he is trying to learn from them!”
“But his actions got your brother killed” Hermione declared as a matter of fact.
“You don’t know that?” Ginny answered firmly as anger began to fill her heart and she stared at her friend in shock. “Fred could have easily still died, Hermione! That war was chaotic, a-and Voldemort and his Death Eaters, they would have still found way into our school without Draco’s help! And as for him being my friend once we get back home;” she continued, fully fed up with the bookworms constant back and forth about her feelings. Not to mention the fact that Hermione using her dead brother as an excuse to push Draco away, made her blood boil, “I know he will because like I’ve told you, Godric I don’t even know how many times now, he has changed! Why are you being so stubborn about this? I am honestly getting sick and tired of sugar coating this for you! Stop living in the damn past and move on already! It’s obvious he really likes you, Mione and it’s apparent he is doing his fucking best to prove it to you! So, why won’t you just let him?” she snapped as her magic began to spark from the tips of her fingers and she moved to exit the room. But quickly whipped back around to prove one more valid point to the witch who apparently needed things spelled out for her.
“And by the way, in case you haven’t noticed, because I sure as hell have, you stop having nightmares the second he lays next to you! Which is remarkable if you ask me, because I have been trying to help you ever since school started back up with absolutely no luck! But all he has to do is sleep near you and you’re bloody fine! You may be fighting with yourself about what you feel for him, but your body sure as hell isn’t! So, for once in your damn life, Hermione, listen to your heart rather than the insane notion you keep trying to pass off as logic and leave my fucking brother out of it!” she finished with grunt before turning on her heels and stalking out of the room to look for the missing duo. Leaving Hermione to lower her face into her hands and think about how right her best friend was.
XX
Walking angrily down the dirt road, not too far away from the tree line into the woods, Ginny halted her stride to kick a stray pebble as she tried not to think about her lost brother after the bookworm had brought him up. Though when she glanced at where the rock had landed, she spotted a dark pool of liquid settled in the soil. Slowly taking a few steps forward, she bent down to examine the fluid before realizing it was blood. Confusion filled her mind but the many questions she had about why blood was on the ground, escaped her when she heard a faint voice calling her name.
“MS. GINNY!” Julia cried out as she ran full force from of the woods towards the redhead. “MS. GINNY!”
“Julia? Julia! What are you doing? Where have you been? You had us worried sick!” The teen however, ignored the inquiry of the Gryffindor and ran straight into her as she hugged her tightly and cried into the witchs’ stomach. “What the-what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Tell me this instant, child!” she demanded as she pulled back to examine the girl for any wounds.
“Something…terrible has happened…” Julia sobbed. “I-I did not know she would tell!”
“What are you talking about? Who?” The brunettes’ bottom lip quivered dejectedly as she tried to think of how to tell Ginny of her mistake when the redhead glanced at the stick firmly gripped in her hand. “Is that…Where-where did you get that? Where did you get that, Julia?” she ordered as panic washed over her.
“Tis Mr. Draco’s…” the girl admitted dolefully through her fallen tears. “I-I saw thee in the woods…He-he made a be-beautiful Owl and-and then Ann Putnam arrived. I thought showing her thee beauty of what h-he could do would help thee make a friend…I did not know she tell!”
“Where is he?” Ginny inquired as her heart raced and her breath grew ragged.
“I-I do not know!” Julia wept. “F-four men came and…and they beat him, Ms. Ginny! They beat him and called him a witch!”
“No…” she whimpered while breathing heavily as her eyes darted back and forth. “No…Oh Godric, no!”
Before Julia could utter another word, Ginny grabbed Draco’s wand from her hand and began forcefully dragging her back to the house as quickly as she could. Slamming open the door, while profoundly breathing, the redhead called out to Hermione and Blaise before finding them in the kitchen talking.
“Gin, what’s…Julia!” Hermione released a sigh of relief as she stood from the table, but her brows suddenly narrowed when she saw the dread written all over her best friends’ face. “Ginny…? What’s-”
“Draco’s been taken” the redhead spoke quickly as a tear slid down her pale cheek, forcing Blaise’s eyes to go wide as he slowly stood in concern. “Ann Putnam has accused him of witchcraft, and he has been taken, Hermione!”
“No…” the bookworm uttered as her gaze stayed fixed on the angry Gryffindor in front of her and her heart dropped while her lungs suddenly closed. “How? When?” she questioned as her hands clenched into fists at her side.
“Half past an hour ago” Julia claimed while wiping her wet face with the back of her hand.
Though that was the most the small brunette could get out before the sound of the front door slamming closed startled the four of them.
“WHERE ARE THEE!” Joseph’s voice boomed before he stormed into the kitchen in an apparent rage. “You! Did thee know?”
“What?” Hermione inquired as she slowly stepped back while trying to play coy.
“Did thee know your fiancé is a witch?” he demanded while taking a step forward in outrage as Blaise quickly placed himself between the pissed off muggle and his friend.
“Calm down, Joseph! We can explain everything” the dark-skinned wizard tried to calmly say as he broke his cover because it was blatantly obvious, they no longer needed to use it anymore. “Please don’t make us hex you. I would rather not have Hermione wipe your memories, but if it comes down to it, I won’t stop her.”
“So tis true…?” the man exclaimed in shock. “You are all witches?”
“Well, witches and wizards, if we’re being technical about it…” Blaise shrugged.
“SINNERS! ‘Those who practice witchcraft, idol worshipers, and all liars–their fate is in the fiery lake of burning sulfur!’ You are all sinners!”
“Oh, enough! Don’t you dare quote the bible at me!” Hermione yelled before reaching for her wand and casting a boundary spell followed by a silencing charm around the room. “Yes, it’s true! We have magic!”
“Mione, the butterfly effect!” Ginny proclaimed as she watched magic flare from the witch before her.
“Screw-the damn-amulet, Ginny! We are already fucked as it is!”
“I do not believe thy eyes! You are to kill us! Please witch, I beg thee, do not harm thy daughter!”
“I would never hurt her…or you for that matter” the Golden girl stated with a heavy sigh. “We aren’t evil, and we did not fight in a war so that the light could start hurting innocent people. There is a such thing as good witches and wizards and Draco is one of them. And if we are going to save him then we are going to need your help. I also realize the only way for you to understand that we are not devil worshipers or Satanic in anyway, is to show you the good that magic can do.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Buttercup?”
“It’s the only way, Blaise” she claimed gently while flicking her wand in the air, causing a bright light to burst from the tip before the white mist turned into an Otter that began to bounce happily around the room.
Julia giggled when the Otter floated carefree around her as Joseph’s eyes widened in a mixture of overwhelming fear and absolute amazement before the creature bounced away from the small brunette and out the closed window.
“W-wh-what the-”
“It’s called a Patronus” Hermione began to explain carefully. “Whether you believe me or not, it’s the purest form of light magic there is that requires a happy memory and is extremely hard to conjure. It protects us from…from dark beings who can suck out a human soul.” The bookworm didn’t think the father’s eyes could grow any wider, but they did. “Anyway, I sent it to find Draco, so he knows we are coming for him. And we are going to save him with or without your help, though without will be harder as we don’t know this town’s layout well. I can’t explain why or how we’re really here right now, but I promise you we’re not going to hurt you” she claimed before slowly raising her Vinewood wand and pointing it at Joseph who backed away in fear.
Flicking her wrist, she cleaned the dirt from his ragged clothing before charming the entire house clean. Once everything was neat and orderly without a speck of dirt to be seen, the Golden Girl picked up a bowl off the counter and set it on table. “What would you like to see?” she inquired softly. “What will convince we are good?”
“Nothing!” Joseph spat as he stared in horror. “1 Corinthians 10:21, You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons!”
“Matthew 7:1, Judge not lest ye be judged!” Hermione quickly argued as her eyes hardened and she recalled every verse she could think of that her parents’ Pastor had taught during his church sermons when she was young.
“Exodus 22:18, Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!”
“John 8:7, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone!”
“OKAY STOP!” Ginny shouted as the pair breathed heavily in front of her. “If we wanted to hurt you, Joseph, we would have done it when we met you” she spoke sharply before softening her shoulders and gazed at the father, hoping her calm demeanor and the fact that the man seemed to like her more than the rest of her group, would help convince him to assist them. “What happens in your town…it affects us all and it forces us into hiding. We were born with a wonderful gift, but your people punish us for something we can’t change. Please…he’s my friend, and right now…the only family we have. Please help us get to him…”
“He has saved us all countless times, Mr. Hamman…” Hermione added with tears brewing in her softened eyes. “It’s our turn to return the favor. I’m begging you…please…” she stated as a drop of water slipped from her honey brown irises and landed silently on the table.
Joseph glanced back and forth between the four sets of eyes pleading with him before softening his features and looking to the floor.
“Tis thy fault, father” Julia claimed with a quivering lip, making the man raise his gaze to his daughter. “You told thee to not bother with those girls and I did not listen. I have infringed upon thee and now Mr. Draco shall be hanged like Bridget Bishop who was only trying to help Ann Putnam Sr. Please father…let us turn to God and pray. For he would not want this to happen…”
“Our God would not allow witches into our home!” he scolded.
“Then thee does not know the true word of our Lord!”
“You dare-”
“Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you!”
“Julia!”
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God! Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God! Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy!”
“Julia enough!”
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven! Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you! God would not want this, father! Our guests have shown us nothing except kindness and mother would be ashamed of you for casting them out, she would be ashamed as I am of you now! You are not the father who raised me to be kind, to be loyal, to be brave! You are a coward and you are selfish to allow Mr. Draco to be beaten for somethin he cannot change! For a gift God himself has given on to him!”
It took a long moment of silence as Joseph stared at his daughter in disbelief and thought about the words she had spoken before thinking about the compassion his departed wife stood for. All the while Hermione stared in recognition at Julia.
“The one that’s innocent…yet bold…” she muttered, causing both Blaise and Ginny to turn their attention to her before looking to the teen beseeching her stunned father with tears brimming her copper brown irises. “Where is he, Joseph?” she pleaded after shaking away the understanding that Julia was indeed the ancestor of the advisor who created the amulet that sent them to Salem in the first place. “Where is Draco?”
“He…he be in thee town jail…” Joseph spoke so softly Hermione had barely heard him, but she released a sharp exhale without even realizing she was holding her breath.
“Where’s the jail?” Blaise inquired as he reached for his wand, clearly readying himself to storm the front doors and hex anyone and everyone he saw until he reached his friend.
“Tis across town” the father answered before running his fingers through his dark brown hair. “But it will not be easy to get to.”
“Why not?” the redhead questioned worryingly.
“Tis heavily guarded and…and thee whole town…they be looking for you.”
“What? Why would they be looking for us?” the brunette asked perplexed. “Did he out us?” Hermione began to slightly panic as the idea of Draco giving them up for his own selfish need to not be taken, ran through her mind, but after quickly thinking it over, she knew he wouldn’t. Old Draco maybe, but not the new one, the kind one; the one that had put his own life in danger to save hers, the one who had tried so desperately to prove to her he has changed but she just refused to see it because she thought it was impossible…and was scared. “It was Ann…wasn’t it? She hasn’t liked me from the start.”
“Aye…” he sighed. “She came runnin into thee Hall screamin like a possessed heathen sayin Draco was a witch. Then she all but say you was a witch as well before all the town started shoutin over one another saying ‘if them two be witches, then thee whole group must to be’. I could not believe thy ears and came running home as fast as thy legs could take thee.”
“So, what are we waiting for?” the Italian questioned with a slight bounce as he grew impatient. “Screw those people-no offense, but that’s my best mate out there and he needs us! I already lost one family Joseph…I don’t plan to lose another…Where across town is the jail he’s being held in?”
“I would not go if thee knows what tis best…” Joseph sighed before walking over to the table and taking a seat on the bench. “I do not know what is to become of your friend…but thee jail was charged with a strict lock down as Draco was seen casting what they say…to be dark magic…”
“Dark magic? That doesn’t sound like Draco…” Ginny claimed with narrowed brows.
“Do we know what happened to his wand?” Hermione asked as she looked at all the faces in the room.
The redheads’ eyes widened when she realized what the bookworm wanted to do as she remembered Julia found the Hawthorn wood on the ground. Lifting her hand and quickly passing the blondes’ wand over to Hermione, the brunette took the stick and laid it gently on the table.
“Prior Incantato” she spoke loud and clear as a gold light shot from the tip of her Vinewood and a ghost of the spell appeared above the Prince’s wand. Though her eyes grew wide when she noticed what the Slytherin was capable of. “H-how is he able to cast a Patronus? He’s a former Death Eater he shouldn’t be able to do that. I don’t understand?”
“Outside of Professor Snape, he’s the only prior Death Eater that was capable of love, Hermione…” Blaise claimed while rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s been able to produce, at least to my knowledge, an Incorporeal Patronus since the war ended.”
“What be an Incorp-Incor-” Julia struggled to ask as she had no idea how to say the words the group was speaking.
“Incorporeal Patronus” Ginny finished for her before explaining it. “It’s…it’s what Hermione sent to Draco…that Otter. Except hers was corporeal which means it takes the shape of an animal.”
“Mr. Draco’s was an Owl!” the girl quickly responded with a wide smile. “It twas beautiful! And it flew all around the trees!”
To say the three staring at the teen were shocked, was an understatement. Hermione had even dropped her wand at the sudden knowledge that was just revealed to her as Blaise and Ginny’s mouths gaped open.
“Tis…tis bad?” the girl questioned in concern.
“It’s…” Blaise began as he tried to shake the amazement away, “it’s the complete opposite, actually. He’s never been able to produce a Corporeal Patronus before. What memory is strong enough to…” the dark-skinned wizard cut himself off as he turned his eyes to the Gryffindor Princess picking up her wand from the floor. “It was you…it had to be.” Hermione froze as Blaise tried to put it all together. “He tried right after China to see if your talk was a good enough memory because it left him elated that you even spoke to him, but…it didn’t work. Something must have happened between you two since then that was strong enough-”
“They kissed, remember?” Ginny declared with a small smirk resting on her lips. “He must have used your kiss in Pompeii…If that doesn’t prove his loyalty and show how genuine he is, then I don’t know what will” she jabbed as a friendly reminder of their earlier argument.
“I…am so confounded” Joseph interrupted, completely unaware that the trio had forgotten he was even still in the room.
“It’s a long story” the red-headed Gryffindor smiled without looking away from her flushed friend. “But it all comes down to the fact that Draco really likes Hermione and the magic he used in the woods was definitely not Dark.”
Friday, May 7th, 1999
Harry breathed heavily as he laid on the Library floor in complete disarray. His head was pounding, and his wrists felt like they were on fire. In short, he felt like he had literally just gone through a fist fight and lost. But what concerned the raven-haired boy more than the pain he was afflicted with, was the fact that he had witnessed exactly what Draco was experiencing. He had no idea where the blonde was, but the accent and the language used by the men surrounding the Slytherin, scared the ever-loving piss out of him. However, what scared him more than anything, was the fact that one of the men called Draco…a witch.
“Oh, my Godric, Harry!” Molly yelled as she removed herself from comforting Elizabeth and raced over to The Chosen One who was contemplating what the hell had just happened to him. “Harry are you alright? Can you tell us what you saw?”
Question after question bombarded the Gryffindors' mind; did they know what he just went through? Did they know what was happening to him? However, it wasn’t until he had a moment to collect himself while looking down at his arms and sitting back on his heels, that he suddenly remembered what Thorfinn had said about being connected to the Blonde Prince.
“Did…did I just have a vision?” he inquired while breathing heavily. “What the actual fuck Rowle?” he yelled while snapping an irritated gaze to Thorfinn. “You said I might only feel pain if Draco is undergoing any! Not that I would actually retain markings on my body!” he complained before glancing back down at his wrists. But to his bewilderment, the red markings began to slowly fade…almost like they had never even happened.
“I’m not an expert on the damn subject, Potter! I only told you what I could recall from the research I read! It never said anything about receiving physical damage to your body!” the former Death Eater growled.
“Well you were right about the experiencing pain, I’ll give you that, but you were wrong about the visions!”
“What?” Rowle inquired with furrowed brows.
“I was in Draco’s mind!” Harry spat before tightly shutting his eyes and rubbing the bottom of his palms across his forehead to rid the headache he was feeling. “It was like…like I was him! I wasn’t just seeing what he saw! I felt his emotions, I felt his fear…and I felt like the men striking him were actually in front of me hitting me!”
“Wh-what did you see? Are you okay? Is Draco alright?” Narcissa began interrogating before Harry had a second to wrap his mind around everything. “Was my son outed as a witch?”
At that last question, the Gryffindors’ gaze snapped to the blonde, who’s piercing watery blue eyes pleaded with him to lie to her; because if it wasn’t already apparent by the wounds disappearing on his skin, the map had already told them all, Draco was in trouble and he knew the mother couldn’t handle it if he told her the truth. This was nothing like when she asked him if her son was okay in the Forbidden Forest after Voldemort tried to kill him. Because this time her child was not alright.
“I-I…” Harry frowned as he tried not to break down. “Th-they’re in Salem…aren’t they?” Narcissa gasped in horror as she tried not to sob, giving Harry the confirmation, he wished was wrong. “I-I can’t lie to you Mrs. Malfoy…I don’t-I don’t exactly know what happened because there was something over my…his…head, but…it’s bad…it’s really bad.”
Realizing that there were more important things in life now than the animosity the two women shared, Molly released the anger she felt for Narcissa and reached over to pull the witch into her arms; allowing the former Slytherin Queen to cry on her shoulder as she prayed to Merlin, the youngest Malfoy would make it out of the horrible predicament he faced…alive.
However, after a minute of agonizingly watching the blonde howl in anguish in the redheads’ arms, Harry’s arm became increasingly heavy for no apparent reason. Confusion once again filled his mind before he suddenly released a loud gasp and fell forward; his hands barely catching him before he face-planted against the marble floor. The action startled everyone in the room, as his eyes rolled back, and the Slytherin Prince awoke in a darkened room.
Draco wasn’t certain how long he’d been unconscious, but when his good eye finally adjusted to the blackness surrounding him, he found himself tied to a hook suspended from the ceiling as his legs dangled beneath him. A cool breeze washed over his body from the barred window to his right and he deduced that he had been stripped in his unconscious state, down to the shorts he wore under his clothes. Suddenly, screams of pain ripped through what he assumed to be his cell door and reverberated off the stone walls, making him regret ever walking out of the barn. His wrists burned from the strain of being suspended for hours, but as he extended his feet to relieve some of the weight off his arms, he found his toes barely brushed the dirt floor.
Using his remaining senses, he tried his best to take in his surroundings, though whomever had designed the hell hole he had found himself in, clearly didn’t want anyone to see what was coming. The obvious screams and pleas for forgiveness told him he was in the town’s dungeon while the foul odor of blood, feces, and mildew filled the air. He did his best to keep from gagging as he breathed in the stale air, knowing it wouldn’t help matters if he added the acrid smell of vomit to the mix.
Pitter patter of multiple tiny feet and squeaks of rats could be heard moving along the floor to his left and he jumped as he felt the swish of a tail brush his largest toe. Years of being subjected to his father’s cruelty had not prepared him for conditions such as these; in his family they simply Crucio'd you repeatedly until you passed out or begged for forgiveness. Though, torture he could handle but dealing with rats…that was a hard pass for him.
Images of his Aunt standing over him with a slender cat-o-nine tails clutched in her hand as she executed the first of his many punishments for failing the Dark Lord, flitted through his mind, distracting him from the disgusting creatures roaming around the floor as he listened to the screams outside the door. The feel of the leather striking his bare back repeatedly as he tried to contain his screams on the family's Dining Room floor was raw in his mind as he wondered what fate would befall him here and if any of his friends would be able to save him before he perished.
Unwilling to draw attention to himself, he stayed quiet as he stood on his tiptoe in the blackened cell. Breathing through the irritation of the ropes biting into his nearly raw skin he tried not to think about how each breath he took caused excruciating pain to jolt through his broken ribs, or what would happen when they knew he was awake.
While staring blankly ahead he noticed a pale silver light emerging to his right and turned his head, initially fearful of what it could be. He exhaled sharply when he realized it was a small silver Otter shimming through the bars of the window and he instantly recognized it as Hermione’s. Though, he had never actually seen her Patronus in person before, he had heard it was an Otter from plenty of students at school. And it was highly unlikely that anyone else in this era would specifically send him that form of magic with the same animal as the girl he was fancying.
Unfortunately, the Otter left just as quickly as it came but it left him feeling hopeful that his friends were coming for him. Though just as the fatigue in his arms became truly unbearable, a loud cracking of a whip echoed through the hall, pulling his focus from the barred window as the wailing screams, he had heard when he awoke, came to an abrupt halt. Draco froze in place, straining his ears in hopes of determining if the man's agony had ended because his tormentors has stopped or because he had expired.
Silence encompassed him for minutes or possibly even hours as he listened intently for a sign of movement. Before long, boots could be heard walking over stones as a flickering light grew brighter underneath his doorway. His pulse quickened and his breathing became erratic as he internally screamed for them not to open his door.
The fates were clearly not listening to his prayers that day because though he could no longer hear anything beyond the pumping of his heart beating rapidly in his ears, he watched in horror as the handle rattled and the gate swung inward. Two men walked into the room with long handled torches to light their way and by the sounds of their rough voices talking about how much they enjoyed giving the man next door his just dessert, Draco knew they were from the group that had seized him.
“Ah, you be awake…” the man with the overgrown grey beard chuckled with a snarl. “Twas quick…Did those screams awake thee from your lovely slumber?”
Draco remained silent as his mother had taught him to be after Voldemort had taken over their home and recalled her pleas to only answer when the question called for one. Though, the blonde knew the question he was just asked was rhetorical, he wanted undoubtedly to retort a callous remark. But he held his tongue as he was in no position to mouth off when he had no wand and no strength to fight back.
“He wishes to answer you not, John Wallace…” the man who had punched Draco multiple times smirked. “He shows respect not to his elders.”
“Hush now, Samuel. He shall have plenty of time to learn respect once we are through with him.”
“Yes, sir” Samuel sneered wickedly. “How shall thee show him first?”
Taking a step forward, John lit two lamps on the wall to the left of Draco and Samuel did the same on the right, but it was apparent the lanterns were only ever used when workers of the jail were present, putting the blonde Prince at unease.
“Thee Minister wishes proof of this demons abilities, to show the court before hangin as our count be no longer enough evidence of this heathens’ treachery. So, I think we shall start with thee Prayer test…” John chuckled with cruel intent while assuming the prisoner would mess up enough to convict him. Panicking deep within, Draco tried to think about if Hermione had ever told him a prayer of her muggle God when the elder man put his face close to his, forcing the Slytherin to once again inhale the rancid odor of his breath. “Speak thy Lord’s Prayer, witch!”
Draco stared hard at the man as he tried his best to put on his uncaring mask and show no emotion before his signature Malfoy smirk rose to the surface and he spit in the seniors’ face. However, as the bearded man stumbled backwards in disgust while wiping the saliva from his eye, Samuel stormed up to the blonde and quickly punched him in the soft tissue under his left rib cage. Aside from searing pain ripping through his body and the loud groan Draco had released, the Prince was thrilled he had a good aim. But John was not impressed and launched himself at his detainee while gripping the Slytherin wizard around the neck.
“Speak thy Lord’s Prayer, you vile scum, or I shall make sure thee never sees the light of day again!”
After once again staring hard at the burly git, Draco listened to his mothers’ word echoing in his head and tried to think of anything to try and appease the man when he remembered the odd saying Joseph had spoken the night before at dinner and at breakfast. Thanking Salazar, he was smart and had paid attention to the strange lines of the brunette’s words so he could later ask Hermione about what they meant, he began to speak them aloud, hoping it was the one the tormentors were asking for as it was the only one, he could recite off the top of his head.
“Our Father, who art thou in heaven, hallowed be thy name,” he spoke loud and clear with an impish glare, and when the men looked taken aback, he knew then it was the right one, “thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil…A…men…” he scowled with a heavy scoff.
“Tis too easy” John spat in a low menacing whisper before shoving the Prince hard in the neck while releasing his grip and backing away.
“Thee Witch’s Mark then!” Samuel bellowed with a snarl.
“We have already searched his body, Samuel…! But thy mind be tellin thee we must resort to more…unyieldin tests…” he grumbled while patting the bull whip holstered against his hip. “Take him down!” he ordered soundly. “We shall take thee to the back room. This Devil Spawn will need a bit of…cooling off when I am through with him…”
XX
Hunched over a wooden block with his hands bound together in iron rings, Draco wailed as the black braided leather cracked across his back for a sixth time, overlapping preceding lashes that lay open upon his bare skin. He tried not to cry as the wounds burned in agony and his muscles spasmed out of control, causing him to unwillingly soil the white linen drawers he was dressed in. He had been whipped before, though never hard enough to make him bleed as Bellatrix still had a faintest amount of care for her own flesh and blood, and he knew the wounds would later scar no matter how many healing potions he used.
Embarrassed and weakened, he tried to keep his focus on the fact that his friends were coming for him at the forefront of his mind, while doing his best to block out the numbing pain he was enduring as another sharp bite of the whip cut across his left arm. Clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles went white, Draco began to weep in desolation as the smell of urine filled the small chamber, causing the men to briefly stop the heartbreaking torment and laugh at the tragic mess before them.
“I do believe he has soiled himself, sir!” Samuel howled as he walked up to Draco, leaned down and sniffed the air around the blonde, before he stood with a heartless snicker. “Tis another one to mark down! Shall we give him a wash?”
“Pray thy God, I think he needs one!” John replied as he gripped the Slytherins’ hair on the back of his head and pulled his face back. “Worthless vermin” he spat before shoving the Prince’s head down and uncuffing him from the blood covered block he rested upon. Lifting their prisoner to his feet with his thick callous hands, Draco almost slipped on his own blood splayed across the floor as John forced him over a large barrel and grasped the back of his neck hard. “Filthy witch!” he claimed before dunking the wizards’ face into the polluted water.
Harry, still in the vision that lasted hours to him, but was mere minutes for everyone else, expelled water from his mouth that came from nowhere while a crying Pansy and Luna trembled in horror. The girls continued to place cool wet cloths upon the Gryffindors’ now bare back, after Thorfinn had ripped the blood-soaked shirt from the raven-haired boy, as he sobbed in agony on his hands and knees.
Molly and Elizabeth held Narcissa, who was beyond comforting, as she bawled her eyes out and Ron held Harrys’ head firmly so it wouldn’t hit the ground during his convulsions. Neville sat on the floor of the stage with his head in his hands, weeping while rocking back and forth with Theo doing his best to comfort him even though he himself wanted to break down. Rowle continued to try and heal every lash the raven-haired boy obtained to no avail because the wounds kept reappearing no matter what he did. But he wasn’t giving up hope that the abuse that was occurring in Salem would end soon.
The blonde gasped for breath as rivulets of water streamed from the pointed tips of his hair and down the soiled drawers he wore. He'd choked on the brackish water after the third time and was barely given an extra minute to expel the liquid from his lungs before being forced back in. Though as he was pulled up from the water again, Draco realized in that moment, the man was a master sadist as he obviously timed his victims to make certain they would neither die nor collapse while he held them under. After allowing the prisoner to gather his breath once more, watching as water and blood dripped down his pale body and pool at his feet, the Slytherin Prince began laughing as he neared his breaking point.
But even though he felt like giving the men the confession they desired, he was too stubborn to appease the wretched muggles and firmly held his tongue. They might be ruthless fiends, but they failed in comparison to his perverse Aunt or even Voldemort himself who would have tried to break into his mind. And the torture they subjected him to, had nothing on the Cruciatus Curses he was exposed to after protecting the Gryffindor Princess in his family manor. Though, he swore to himself that once his suffering was over, he would kill the two men who dared cross a Malfoy.
“Thee Devil be showin, John Wallace!” Samuel claimed while tilting his head so close to Draco’s face, the blonde was tempted to headbutt him right in the nose. “I think he be ready to confess his sins…”
But Draco just continued to laugh before his lips fell to a scowl and he glared the sandy-haired cretin directly in the eye.
“I’m…going…to kill…you both…” he chuckled. “And if I don’t…Hermione…will…” he asserted through deep heaving exhales.
“You mean thy friends who have already left our blessed town?” John challenged, making Draco look to the man in animosity. “Everyone be lookin for them…though it seems they left your diseased filth behind…Good riddance, I say…” the bearded man grinned while a reluctant frown befell the Prince’s lips as he took in what was being said to him.
“You’re lying!” he yelled bitterly knowing his friends would never leave him behind. Although, he strongly wondered why he hadn’t been rescued yet. Hermione had broken into an impenetrable Gringotts with her two dolt friends, surely, she could break into a muggle jail easily enough. But then why hadn’t she come?
“If he be a liar...then why have they not saved thee yet?” Samuel leered before gripping Draco by the hair. “No one…be comin to save you…or your soul, son of Satan!” he claimed before dunking the Prince once more, almost suffocating him in the process.
Falling against the wall in the narrow hallway as the men returned him to his cell hours later, Draco tried to steady himself as he winced from the excruciating pain and felt tears wet his face. The sharp bite of the whip cut across his calves as the hate-filled grey bearded man bellowed at him to keep moving. He hobbled further down the hall a few steps before an uncontrollable whimper tore from his throat. Both his back and arms were on fire from being beaten and overstretched in odd positions and he could feel his wounds opening further as he stumbled forward. Each step he took his bleeding flesh ripped further open as his legs nearly buckled beneath his weight.
The Malfoy heir made it about halfway down the hall before collapsing on the grungy floor, never once feeling the rat skitter from beneath his crumpled frame due to the searing pain riddling his body. As he laid motionless upon the ground John had taken pleasure in whipping his arms and shoulders further before picking him up and throwing him into the dirty chamber. But as Draco crashed to the hard-stone floor, both he and Harry screamed in agony as they felt his left hip dislocate from its socket, causing the blonde to black out from the stress of the injury.
Salem, July of 1692
“Open this door, Joseph Hamman! We know those witches have stay on this land!” a loud man hollered just outside the two-story wooden dwelling.
Joseph calmly opened the front entryway to see about a dozen men standing on his property with torches in their hands.
“I bare no witches here, Reverend Parris” he sneered with a small scoff as he crossed his arms and stood in the frame of the entrance. “What you seek has no place in thy home.”
“He be lyin!” someone in the back of the crowd shouted before the Minister quickly hushed him without taking his eyes off the brunette.
“Prove thee innocence then. Show us you shelter no Devil worshipers who afflict our children with curses!”
“Why should I allow thee into thy home as proof? You only take thee mere word of children to accuse someone of witchcraft before hangin them. Is thy word not as good as they?” he scoffed once more when the Reverend appeared to not be able to answer. “What is to become of the prisoner you have unjustly accused? For he showed no signs of witchcraft when he and his fellows stayed the night before departin up North. And thy daughter has shown no signs of affliction.”
“Do not be so blasphemous, Joseph Hamman. Tis not for you to judge those of the wicked.”
“Tis not for you to judge either…Though I am a righteous man, and I will allow you and only you to search thy farm for the people who have already left.”
“He be foolish, Reverend! He wish to trap thee!” the same man before yelled, causing the rest of the mob to agree and contend the brunettes’ demand.
“Enough!” Parris shouted, forcing the crowd to scowl as they murmured incoherent things under their breaths. “Thy God be on thy side and I shall be just fine. Though curiosity does make thee wonder why you will not allow this search to go much faster by allowin more to help thee?”
“You want more?” Joseph jeered. “Fine. But seein as I have paid good money for the land I own and pay plentiful to allow you to live in that beautiful house of yours, I will allow only two men to accompany you. Anymore, and I shall write to thee King himself about your thievin ways. And if you shall argue against thee and arrest thy daughter and I, I will have you know that the group you seek will have your head on a spike if they find news of my demise. And if they be witches of Satan, they shall have no dilemma in tellin the King; for their ravens are much faster than your ships.”
Reverend Parris’s face turned red as he clenched his fists in anger at his sides, but quickly corrected his features while taking in a deep breath.
“So be it, Joseph…But if I find evidence that you be harborin demons, not even thy King can save you.”
Chuckling with a small grin resting upon his lips, Joseph uncrossed his arms and stepped to the side to allow the Minister and two judges into his home. The members of the court quickly made their way to the living room as Reverend Parris scowled at the brunette before stepping into the kitchen and glancing around. However, in his search as he looked under the table, in the fireplace, which made Joseph almost burst out in laughter at the stupidity of the man, and in a pantry-like closet just to the left of the hearth, the Minister made sure to leave a mess behind in spite of the single father.
“There be no one here” the brunette muggle claimed while once again crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall feeling completely indifferent to the disarray thrusted upon his kitchen.
“In thee barn then” Parris stated strongly before stepping out the back door and marching down to the animal housing as the two men finished searching the bottom level and began making their way upstairs.
As both Joseph and the Revered entered the barn, Julia stopped feeding grains to the black Stallion before her and looked to her father.
“Minister Parris!” she exclaimed excitingly. “Has thee come to see Isaiah run? He be a fast horse now. I was just about to take him for a ride. Would you care to join? I am sure Isabel would love to get out as well” she smiled cheerfully as she pointed to the light-brown mare Draco had pet earlier.
“Nay, child. I am here on official business. Though tis a beautiful horse. When did thee obtain such a fine steed?” he inquired while glancing at the four cattle grazing in their stalls.
Julia raised a brow in confusion as the black Stallion lightly nudged her ear.
“Isaiah? Minister, we have owned him for no more than a year and a half. Thy mother always wanted a black horse, so father had found him to honor her. He has broken Isaiah in himself. You do remember not?”
“Aye…” he answered softly in embarrassment before the sounds of two chickens fighting behind him grabbed his attention.
“O, nay!” Julia sulked as she stormed up to the chickens pecking each other and picked one up. “Mary Lou always be teasin Mary. I suspect she do not like that their names are similar” she grinned while gently petting the breast of the hen in her arms before looking up at the confused Reverend.
“Is thee going to search now?” Joseph cut in in annoyance. “Tis almost supper time, Minister.”
“Aye!” Parris declared with a wave of his hand before beginning his search throughout the shed. However, after finding no one in the barn, he released an angry growl and exhaled a deep breath.
“I told thee, they left already.”
“One was engaged to the prisoner! How would they leave without him?”
“Simple…” the single father began while clicking his tongue against the inside of his cheek and placing his hand in his pockets. “She did not really love him and was forced into the engagement. She and her cousin took their hired guard and headed up North in hopes to find a man not condemned of witchcraft…Are we finished now? Because the night be late.”
“He will get no trial if proof of his treason is found.”
“What?” Joseph questioned in bewilderment.
“You inquired earlier what is to become of the prisoner. There be no one around to fight for him so I see no reason to tell thee not. He will confess by nights end and he will hang come midday. John Wallace be personally seeing to his…confession.”
“I see…” the brunette claimed while swallowing the bile rising in his throat, knowing full well how sadistic the elder man was. “Very well. If he confesses, then there shall be no argument about his accusation. And may the Lord have mercy on his soul.” Albeit unbeknownst to Joseph, the Reverend was not going to await admission from Draco. He would do what he had done to his former slave Tituba and force an early admittance. But if Draco refused, he would deceive the court to make sure the wizard, who was caught red handed, was hung.
Reverend Parris scoffed slightly before walking out of the barn and up past the house. The two judges who had found nothing in the home, quickly followed the Puritan man as they made their way to the Jail to inform the ‘workers’ of the groups disappearance. After waiting roughly ten long minutes to make sure the man was really gone, Hermione removed the disillusioning spell from her body and climbed out from behind the hay bales. She then quickly pointed her wand at the fourth cow near the end of the shed and flicked her wrist, turning Ginny back into a human.
“What the hell did he say?” she demanded while brushing dirt from her apron and opening the stall door in outrage. “Did he just say Draco won’t even get a trial?”
However, before she could answer, the black Stallion snorted in an effort to gain the attention of the people in the barn.
“Shite, right!” Hermione stated with a hand to her forehead before turning towards Julia and flicking her wrist at the hen in her hands.
Blaise fell to the ground with an obvious grimace across his face before standing up and brushing the hay from his clothing.
“A chicken, Hermione? A bloody chicken? You couldn’t have turned me into anything else? Any other animal? That Mary Lou is a feisty little shite! She’s lucky my beak was not as sharp as hers!”
“Sorry, Blaise” the bookworm sighed as she tucked her wand back into her bag. “There were already too many large animals in the barn.”
“Can we get back to Draco not getting a trial?” the redhead ordered while charming her shoe clean of the cow dung she had stepped in.
“You cannot get him tonight…” Joseph answered. “Tis too risky. You will be seen. I do not think thee Minister believed thy lies and will place more men around the jail. He would not have told thee of Draco’s fate if he had accepted thy false tale.”
“So, we have to let him rot in that prison?” Hermione bemoaned. “To be what, tortured by that Wallace man? I-I can’t do that. I can’t leave him there.”
“We don’t seem to have a choice, Mione” Ginny stated in regret.
“I broke into the most dangerous and most impervious Wizarding bank in all of England to get that damn cup from Bellatrixs’ vault, Ginny! Me! Breaking into that puny jail should be a walk in the park! We can’t leave him in there!”
“If you want to mess with the past, Hermione, more than we already have, than have at it!” the redhead argued as her magic sparked. “But keep in mind you’re the one who told Harry third year that bad things happen to wizards who meddle with time! This is no exception! We’ll have to find another way to save Draco that doesn’t involve us getting caught, using magic in front of everyone, or worse, his potential death!”
“Look, I want to save Draco just as much as you do, Buttercup. But we’re going to have to wait until morning…when he’s not in that building. We need to stop and think of a plan before just rushing in there otherwise we could all be in trouble. You are the smartest of all of us…I know you can come up with something.”
“But how?” Julia chimed in as she stood next to her father. “How are thee goin to save him?”
Hermione raised her eyes to the ceiling while biting her bottom lip as she tried to rein in her overwhelming fear before lowering her gaze to a candle resting on a post near the entrance to the barn. As she studied the flickering flame while trying to think of a way to save the man who was struggling just to survive as they chatted, she watched the black line of smoke dance above the fire as the group surrounding her tried to come up with a plan.
Though as the fumes rose into the air and the brunette witch continued to watch, her head stopped bobbing up and down as an idea began to form in her mind, and her mouth slightly parted.
“I need Potassium Nitrate…and sugar…” she uttered while still staring at the curling black smoke, causing everyone to stop talking and look to her in confusion. “A lot of it…”
“What the bloody hell is Potassium Nitrate?” Blaise inquired with furrowed brows.
“Gun powder” Hermione answered as she flicked her gaze to the floor. “Everything else I need I can transfigure from items around the barn or-or the house” she claimed, though it seemed as if she was talking more to herself than the four people around her.
“And what pray tell are we making with gun powder a-and sugar?” Ginny questioned; her interest now peaked but perplexity still ran through her mind.
The Gryffindor Princess raised her eyes to the group as a small smile began to spread across her lips.
“Smoke Bombs.”
XX
Draco laid curled in a half ball on the floor of the dark and cold cell as his left leg grew numb after he had used the last of his strength to fail at magically popping his hip back into place. Though it was the middle of the summer, cold air surrounded him in the stone prison walls, seeping deep beneath his abused skin.
Shivering as tears continued to wet his face and water from his punishment soaked his body, the blonde silently cried through the night as thoughts of his impending death filled his mind. He had thought by now that Hermione, or even Blaise, would have come to save him…especially after seeing the Patronus flutter through the small barred window of his cell. However, as he laid broken on the floor, he began to think he had hallucinated the Otter. It wasn’t like he could really see anyway as his left eye was swelled shut and the idea of being accused of witchcraft caused him to imagine the animal of the girl, he thought had cared for him.
But as the hours ticked by and the sun slowly began to creep its way into the chamber, he began to believe that John was right, and that his friends really had left him to die. Though death no longer scared him as he continued to hold himself in an effort to keep warm, and he realized…no one was coming.
The brightest witch of their age could break in to Gringotts filled with powerful spells, a Dragon that guarded the most secure vaults, and Goblins around every turn, but she couldn’t save him from muggles. At that point, Draco didn’t know if he was beginning to give up hope because of the torture he had been subjected to, or if it was because the girl, he had cared so much for, more than even his own self, left him. And he honestly didn’t know what hurt more; his body riddled with wounds from the countless whips that ripped through his skin, the fractured bones in his ribs, and the endless blows to his face…or his broken heart.
Biting his lower lip as a small whimper escaped his throat, the Slytherin Prince, who was considered the muscle of the group, the protector of the fallen, and the defender of his friends, tilted his chin into his chest as he sobbed uncontrollably, and gave up. Understanding now, that no one had truly cared for him and he was left with no choice, but to accept death come mid-day when he would hang at Proctor’s Ledge for being something…he could never change.
@saxman66- Thank you. And I'm sorry you are weirded out by Ron and Harry sharing a bed, but I assure you it is quite common and natural for males to share beds just like girls do, especially if they ever attended a sleep over when they were younger. There is nothing sexual about it nor is there anything wrong with it and it shows a comfortableness between friends. As for Draco being surpised by producing a Patronus, Death Eaters were known to not have happy memories or at least none strong enough to preform the light magic. It is supposed to be impossible for them to conjure even a mist of a Patronus. For the modern political reference I mentioned last chapter, the person was stating that I made a Trump reference in Chapter 3 not Chapter 10. Basically stating that I am comparing the US President to the Emperor of China at the time, who was a real person. But I will never have a Trump or political modern reference in any of my stories. :)
@1_Luv215- Thank you! You would be absolutley right about my Content Warning coming into play this chapter. As for Ann :) you'll just have to wait until next chapter to see what happens ;) but I hate her too lol
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo