Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Songs of Regret	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 76454 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I also hold no rights to any of the songs mentioned. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
A/N: As far as the Fiendfyre goes, there really wasn’t any specific reason for the forms I chose in the previous chapter. I always imagined that Fiendfyre was so volatile that it chose whatever form it wanted. But that might not apply to Hermione coming up. ;)

Though, I like the idea that a lion head destroyed the Horcrux for our Gryffindor heroine.

On with the story….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco smiled as he watched the fiery serpent slither its way around his legs. It snaked up and around his body and then raised its glowing face to his and hissed with a tiny flickering tongue of flame. He chuckled at it and the snake disappeared in a puff. He shook his head at the woman sitting across from him at the table.

Hermione looked up from her breakfast plate, winked at him and went back to eating..

Setting down his fork, Draco let his attention focus completely on her. He roamed his eyes over her and marveled at her beauty and power. Ever since she had discovered her fire taming abilities, Hermione had taken to casting her little Fiendfyre creatures at random moments for fun. In just a few days time she had completely mastered her fire taming ability. She could even manipulate the size, form, and intensity of her Fiendfyre, and Dumbledore had been quick to point out that even Voldemort had not been able to achieve such a level of control.

Draco sighed. He couldn’t believe how much they had accomplished since Hermione had realized her gift. Dumbledore had retrieved Marvolo Gaunt’s ring without incident thanks to Hermione’s warning about its curse, and brought it back to the castle the day after the destruction of the diadem. Hermione used a Fiendfyre dragon to dispatch the piece of Voldemort’s soul from the ring so fast that it didn’t even have a chance to fight her.

And then there were the memories. They had shared all of their relevant memories from the two years leading up to the final battle. It had taken Draco nearly an hour to calm Hermione after she experienced a traumatic episode upon releasing the memory of her torture, and she refused to divulge all of the details of her time on the run with Harry, but otherwise the whole process went much smoother and faster than Dumbledore had anticipated. They had both placed their last memories into vials just after dinner on Thursday.

And now, here they were, Saturday morning, having their last meal together. The week had gone by entirely too fast. Between the memory sessions, Draco’s spy training with Snape (which included pain tolerance exercises, Occlumency, dueling, and hand-to-hand combat) and Hermione’s fire taming practice the days had passed by swiftly.

Draco watched Hermione quietly as she ate and his heart panged at the thought of being without her. The nights were going to be exceptionally difficult to spend alone. They had spent their nights staying up late together in their room, going over their sign language and experimenting with their sex play before drifting off to sleep held tight in each other’s arms. Draco wasn’t sure he’d even be able to fall asleep without Hermione next to him.

Hermione looked up from her plate again to see Draco staring at her. She tapped her index finger to her chin twice, the signal for “What’s wrong?”

He rubbed his left eye with his right hand: “I’m sad.”

They had started trying to communicate using only their signals during meals to make sure they had them perfected for when school began again. They had even taken to eating all of their meals in the Great Hall and sat at their usual tables to gauge how they’d have to be in order to communicate with respect to the space. But this last morning they sat at what was normally the Slytherin table together.

Hermione put down her fork. “Me too,” she signaled. A look of mild anguish formed on Draco’s face and Hermione got up and went around to his side of the table. She sat down on the bench next to him with her back against the table so she could still face him.

“It will be okay,” she said out loud as she brought a hand to his face. Draco winced when her hand touched his cheek. “Sorry. It still hurts?” she said as she turned his head by his chin to better inspect his face. “At least the potion got rid of the bruising,” she remarked.

Draco brought his own hand up to carefully palm his jaw. “That’s good at least. I don’t think my mother would be too pleased to know that my potions professor beat the fuck out of me,” he said with a low chuckle. Hermione gave him a smirk.

“Hey, you got in quite a few good blows. He had a tough time recovering from that kick to the face. You even broke his nose,” she said reassuringly. Draco laughed and grabbed a hand to his sore ribs.

“Yeah, well his nose is a rather easy target, isn’t it? Plus he broke mine first,” he said through pain-clenched teeth as he rubbed his side.

Hermione sighed, “I’m going to miss watching the two of you train.”

Draco raised a perfect eyebrow at her. “You’re going to miss watching Sev wail on me?”

She clicked her tongue at him. “No. I’m going to miss watching the two of you wail on each other. Watching the two of you fight was really hot.”

An ear to ear grin spread across Draco’s face. “Is that so? What exactly was so ‘hot’ about it?”

Hermione shrugged, “What wasn’t hot about it? Two half-naked, strong, well toned men going to blows without mercy...” She fanned herself dramatically and bit her lip with a hiss. “Shite, I’m getting hot just thinking about it.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Sev you said so,” Draco teased. Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked him lightly on the cheek. Draco hissed at the pain but smiled at her. He leaned toward her and rested his forehead against hers. “Merlin, I’m going to miss you,” he said quietly.

“I’ll miss you too,” she whispered back. They closed their eyes and just leaned against each other in silence until they heard footsteps enter the Great Hall. They looked up to see Snape and Dumbledore at the entrance looking solemn.

“It’s time,” said Dumbledore gently. Draco and Hermione exchanged an anxious glance before standing. They wrapped their arms around each other and hugged tight.

“I wish I knew when I will see you again,” Draco sighed in her ear.

“We will see each other before the fourth,” she said, leaning back to look him in the eyes. When he looked at her doubtfully, Hermione pushed a strand of his hair out of his face and added, “I promise.”

“You can see each other whenever you want,” Dumbledore interjected. He walked across the hall to them and held out a small velvet bag to each of them. They both gave him puzzled looks. “Open them,” he said with a nod. Draco opened his bag first.

“A mirror?” he said as he looked down at the small rectangular glass in his hand. Hermione opened her bag quickly and removed a mirror that was identical to the one Draco was holding. She looked into it but it did not reflect her face. Instead she saw Draco’s face smiling back at her.

“I can see you in this,” he said in wonderment toward Hermione.

“I’m afraid they don’t relay sound,” Dumbledore said regretfully.

“That won’t be a problem. These are wonderful. Thank-you, Albus,” Hermione said as she turned and hugged him. Dumbledore chuckled.

“You are most welcome, Hermione. I only wish I could do more for the two of you. You saved my life, and restored our hope for peace. Your hard work and sacrifices will not be forgotten,” he said and then shook Draco’s hand. Draco swallowed hard and simply nodded as he grasped the Headmaster’s firm hand. He caught Snape’s eye over the old man’s shoulder and Snape bowed his head to him.

Draco released Dumbledore’s hand and then turned back to Hermione to grasp hers. She squeezed his hand hard, rose up on the balls of her feet to meet her face to his, and kissed him. He leaned into the kiss and pulled her close.

Hermione felt her heart begin to race with mounting apprehension as she poured every emotion possible into the kiss. Would this be their last?

She knew Draco was just going back to Malfoy Manor with his mother, and she would be going to the Burrow, but she couldn’t shake the horrible feeling of anxiety that their looming departure created in her. It felt the same as it did whenever Ron would leave for a dangerous Auror assignment. There was always that nagging fear at the back of her mind that he might never return. Only this time, instead of nagging, it was screaming.

Tears leaked from Hermione’s eyes as they kissed and when they finally pulled apart, she felt the pressure of a panic attack begin to swell in her chest. Draco sensed her unease and, ignoring his soreness, pressed his cheek against hers and hugged her as hard as he could. She relaxed into his strong hold and breathed in his perfect scent to calm her nerves.

“Keep that mirror close, love,” Draco whispered. She nodded against him.

He released her and, with one last somber glance to her, walked away to stand beside Snape who put a hand on his shoulder. Draco stiffened at the touch and then walked out of the Great Hall without looking back. Snape went to follow when Hermione called out to him.

“Make sure he comes back to me, Severus,” she said in a commanding voice. Snape said nothing, but gave her an almost imperceptible nod and then disappeared beyond the doorway. Hermione simply blinked at the empty doorway until Dumbledore placed a hand gently on her back.

“Are you ready?” he asked calmly. Hermione nodded silently.

“As we discussed, you are to go to your parents’ home. Arthur Weasley will come for you there at eleven,” Dumbledore said, reiterating the plan of her transfer to the Burrow. There was a long silence as Hermione stared off at nothing. “Are you prepared to face them?” Dumbledore asked gently.

Hermione took a deep breath. “I think so,” she lied.

She had no idea how she was going to feel seeing Ron again. She and Draco had talked about it, but their discussions had mostly consisted of tips from Draco about hiding her emotions and her reassuring him that she no longer had any romantic feelings for Ron. But when it came to the prospect of actually interacting with Ron…

The situation was so bizarre that Hermione had been unable to come to any rational thought regarding it. The Ron here had no idea what the future Ron had done. Where they even the same person? This Ron was sixteen. She still felt thirty-seven. At the moment she felt more of a connection to Severus than to Ron and Harry. The fact that she thought of him as Severus now instead of Snape was just as unsettling. What the hell was she going to talk to them about? How was she supposed to act sixteen again? How would she be able to stop thinking about Draco long enough to concentrate on anything?

Hermione looked to Dumbledore with a small smile. He motioned for her to leave the Great Hall and she walked out into the main hall. The two walked back to his office where, he had already explained to her, she would be able to Apparate to her parents’ home.

Just before she was set to depart, she hugged Dumbledore again. “Thank you for believing us and for all you’ve helped us accomplish,” she said softly. “I don’t know what we would have done without you and Severus.”

Dumbledore didn’t say anything but when Hermione pulled back from the hug she could see that he had tears in his twinkling blue eyes. He smiled at her and she went to turn on the spot, but caught sight of the cabinet filled with the memories she'd given and she remembered something she had wanted to say.

“Albus,” she said, “before I go I wanted to suggest one last thing.” Dumbledore tilted his head toward her attentively.

“I think that you should bring back Professor Slughorn to teach potions this year like you did in our reality and then give Severus the Defense Against the Dark Arts class again. Severus was an exceptional DADA professor, and he deserves it,” she said sincerely. “And if it helps any…the curse on the DADA position ends with Voldemort.”

Dumbledore gave her a rather surprised look. “I shall consider it. Thank you, Hermione.”

She nodded at him appreciatively. “Good bye Headmaster,” she said and then swirled from sight.
A moment later she landed lightly in the front room of her parents' home and the crack of her Apparation echoed through the empty house. Her parents were still gone on their holiday. She stood in place and travelled her gaze around the room. She hadn’t set foot in this house since she had wiped her parents’ memories during the war, but it looked just as she remembered. The sight of her photo hanging on the wall caused her to shudder.
She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was supposed to be cuddled up on the couch in her living room with Hugo reading a letter from Rose about her first week at Hogwarts.

Hermione was suddenly overcome with grief and loneliness and she sank to the floor. She clutched her arms around herself and rocked back and forth as she cried. She had been too busy the past week to really think about her situation. But being in this place made it all too clear. She was stuck in the past. She was stuck having to pretend to be a kid. She was stuck here without her family. She was stuck here without Draco.

Wiping the tears from her face with one hand, she fished in her pocket for her mirror with the other. She grasped onto it but felt something else soft beside it. She pulled out the mirror and looked into it, but it was black. She switched the mirror between hands and then reached back into her pocket for what she had felt. She pulled out a white cloth.

Draco’s handkerchief.

He had slipped it into her robes without her knowing. The handkerchief unfolded as she lifted it and a small note fell out of it. With a trembling hand Hermione picked up the note and read it. It said only three words.

I love you.

Hermione released a sob and clenched the note, mirror, and handkerchief to her chest. She sat on the floor and simply let herself cry until she heard the grandfather clock in the hall chime half past. She looked at the clock with puffy eyes and tried to tamp down the feeling of dread that overtook her sadness. She only had half an hour until Arthur would arrive.

Items still clutched in her hands, Hermione got up from the floor and went to the stairs that lead to the second level where her room was located. She made her way up them slowly and stopped at the landing. The strangeness of seeing this place again was overwhelming. She took a steadying breath and went to her room. She flicked on the light and looked around hesitantly. She knew this was her room, but it still felt alien.

Hermione walked across the room to her dresser. She set down the handkerchief and then the mirror, propping it up against a stack of books. Her eyes roamed over her old possessions and fell on the mother-of-pearl inlayed jewelry box that had belonged to her great-grandmother that she had inherited from her grandmother. She touched her hand to the lid reverently and smoothed her fingers across the design on it. She had loved this when she was younger. It was so exotic looking with a long-tailed bird with its wings raised in flight at the center surrounded by shining swirls and spirals.

She delicately opened the lid. Poking a finger around to dig amongst the silver and gold pieces within, she caught sight of her great-grandfather’s ring and pulled it out. It was silver with a medium-sized oval face set with an emerald surrounded by an intricately carved Celtic knot. She immediately thought of Draco when she saw it. She smiled and pocketed the ring and went back to searching through the box.

Hermione spotted the locket she had been searching for. She pulled the silver oval locket by its fine chain out of the box and held it up to the light. Its gleaming faces where etched with the same knot pattern as the ring. She set the locket down on the dresser and opened it. It was empty. She took the note from Draco and folded it carefully. She placed the note in the locket and closed it, then picked up the necklace and clasped it around her neck.

With a hand around the locket she closed her eyes and sighed. “I love you too,” she whispered to herself. She released the locket and then set about packing for her impending departure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco watched as Hermione dug around in the jewelry box. He noticed her red, puffy eyes and knew that she must have been crying. He wished that he’d been able to cry when he’d left her. He still had a horrible lump in his throat from the forced smiles and greetings he’d had to give his mother and aunt when Severus had brought him back to the Manor. He cringed knowing that he’d have to continue the charade in a few minutes, but held his mirror tight as he stole a few moments to see his love.

He could see his handkerchief at the bottom of the picture reflected in the mirror and wondered if she had found his note. He had wanted to say those words to her directly, but had lost his nerve every time he tried. Draco knew that he’d be facing the possibility of death in the days to come, and the thought that Hermione might never know his true feelings made him physically ache inside and drove him to hide the note away in her pocket.

He gazed at his mirror as Hermione pulled a silver necklace out of the jewelry box and set it down. Draco smiled when he saw that she was holding his note in her hand. She folded it and put it in the locket of the necklace and then put it on. His heart constricted when he saw her clasp her hand around the locket and mouth the words, “I love you too.” The lump in his throat grew in size as he fought back the tears he felt behind his eyes.

“Draco?”

Draco startled at the mention of his name and hastily shoved the mirror back into his pocket. He took a deep breath and went to the bathroom door and opened it to find his mother standing in the hall on the other side.

“Are you alright, love,” she asked him softly with a hand to his cheek. “You seem so distracted.”

Draco forced himself not to react to the pain of his mother’s touch and gave her a weak smile. “I’m fine, mother,” he answered shortly as he stepped into the hall beside her. Narcissa gave her son a soft smile and then hugged him.

“I missed you this week,” she said with a light squeeze. She pulled back and smoothed down a stray strand of his hair. “I was thinking of taking you out to lunch tomorrow instead of going to the spa. Would you like to invite Margaret to join us?”

A pained look flashed across Draco’s face and Narcissa pursed her lips. Draco cursed himself. He knew better than to let his emotions come to the surface. But he trusted his mother.

“She is visiting family friends for the rest of the summer,” he said dispiritedly.

“You miss her?” she asked understandingly. Draco nodded. Narcissa admired her handsome son. “She is a lucky young woman to have caught you,” she said with another push to his hair.

Draco shook his head. “No, mother, I am the lucky one.”

“You certainly are, dear nephew,” came a shrill voice from down the hallway.

Draco looked to the right to see his aunt Bellatrix come sauntering up to them. An icy chill ran down his spine. He had never liked this woman. He had not been the least bit upset when she had died in the future. In fact, he rather hoped that that event would repeat itself. It unsettled him to know that this sadistic bitch was so closely related to his sainted mother.

Bellatrix gave Draco a sickly sweet smile and batted her eyes. “My wittle Drakey is now a man, isn’t he?” she said tweely with a pinch to his cheek. Draco grunted and shucked away from her. She laughed.

“Yes, quite a man. One about to receive the highest honor to be had,” she said fawningly. She grabbed his left arm and patted her lanky hand over his forearm. “You are in for quite a treat today, Draco. Did you tell him yet, Cissy?” she called excitedly to her sister.

Draco looked toward his mother and saw that her face had gone rigid. “No,” she answered coldly.

Oblivious to her sister’s changed demeanor, Bellatrix bounced on her toes like a small child and grinned widely at Draco. “Oooh. That means I can tell him.”

She yanked him closer by his arm and brought her mouth to his ear. “You have a meeting with the Dark Lord this afternoon,” she whispered eagerly. It took every ounce of Draco’s will power not to shudder at the sensation of her breath on his ear.

Bellatrix released Draco from her grasp and he made a show of straightening his clothing with an irritated huff.

“Is that all?” he asked cavalierly.

He knew that his indifference toward her obvious excitement would set her off. It was exactly the same response he had given her when she had told him this news the first time he was sixteen. Back then he had said it because he was an arrogant teenager who had no idea what he was getting himself into. This time he said it because he wanted to piss her off.

An affronted scowl formed on Bellatrix’s face. She narrowed her eyes menacingly toward her nephew and jabbed a bony finger into his chest.

“How dare you treat the Dark Lord’s invitation with such disrespect? You should be ecstatic that he even acknowledges you after your father’s failure,” she sneered. Draco pushed her hand away from his chest roughly.

“I know very well what kind of respect the Dark Lord commands,” he growled at her. “I am not my father and I will thank you to not ever compare me to him. You can tell the Dark Lord that I very much look forward to meeting with him, Auntie,” he finished angrily with a finger pointed in her face.

Bellatrix eyed him harshly for a moment before she suddenly burst out laughing. Her loud cackling echoed up and down the hall as Narcissa and Draco glowered at her.

“Totally fucking insane,” Draco muttered to himself as he watched her grab at her sides. She righted herself and wiped a tear from her eye as she once again clamped a hand onto Draco’s upper arm.

“Oh, my dear nephew. You will make one magnificent Death Eater. Ooops!” she said with a hand to her lips as if she had accidentally let slip an important secret. She feigned innocence and blinked at him conspiratorially. Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Bella!” Narcissa said threateningly. Bellatrix waved her off.

“Oh, he was going to find out anyway, Cissy. Just try to act surprised when he tells you,” she said to Draco out of the corner of her mouth with a wink. She patted him on the shoulder and smiled. “See you this afternoon,” she simpered and then waltzed away down the hall.

Draco glared daggers at her back as she went and when she disappeared around the corner he turned to his mother. She looked as if she wanted to cry, but she said nothing and simply stood to her full height and walked away.

Left alone in the hall, Draco pulled out his mirror. It was black. He clenched his hands around it and started down the hall to his bedroom.

Draco entered his bedroom and slammed the door shut. He locked and warded it and then went to his bed and flopped down. He rolled over into the middle of it and then stared up at the ceiling. He felt a sting of sadness as he realized that the last time he’d been in this bed, Hermione had been in it next to him. He lifted his head to glance down at the mirror in his hand. Still black. He puffed dejectedly and threw his head back onto his pillow.

Minutes passed as he laid in silence and he closed his eyes in exhaustion as the aches and pains from his training finally settled throughout his body. He let out a small groan. He knew there was a muscle relaxing potion in his bathroom, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up or even lift his wand. It suddenly occurred to him that this was the first time in a week that he had simply just remained still by himself. His mind drifted in the quiet.

“I wonder what Scorpius is doing right now,” he thought absentmindedly. His eyes shot open. The ache he suddenly felt course through him had nothing to do with his training. The tears that he had been keeping at bay all morning finally broke free, and Draco rolled over onto his side and curled his legs up toward his chest. He closed his eyes again and simply allowed himself to cry until the week’s worth of stress and sleep deprivation caught-up to him and sent him into an uneasy sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione sat uncomfortably atop her school trunk looking out of her parents’ front window. She looked back at the clock.

11:20.

She sighed audibly and tilted her head back. The waiting was killing her. She had managed to compose herself and prepared her fragile psyche for Arthur’s arrival and so when he did not show-up on time it completely threw off her temporary sense of calm. She wished she knew where her parents had taken Crookshanks. He would have helped to put her at ease in this miserable circumstance.

She sighed, pulled out her mirror and unwrapped Draco’s handkerchief from it. Expecting to see blackness again, she was startled when she saw an image. Most of the surface of the mirror was covered by Draco’s thumb, but beyond that she could see the upper left half of his face displayed horizontally. His closed eye and the steady rise and fall of the scene signaled that he was asleep.

A soft smile played across her face as she stroked her fingers gently over the mirror’s surface. Hermione sat quietly and watched Draco sleep until she heard two car doors shut. She glanced out the window and felt a stone drop heavily into her stomach. Walking briskly up her parents’ front walk was Arthur Weasley…and Ron.

Hermione hastily rewrapped the mirror and shoved it in her pocket. She hopped up from the trunk and went to the front door. She took an enormous breath and opened the door just as Arthur raised his fist to knock.

“Oh!” Arthur exclaimed in mild surprise. “Hello, Hermione. Sorry we are late.”

Hermione forced him a sweet smile, “Hello, Mr. Weasley. That’s okay. It’s so good to see you. Please, come in.” She pulled back the door to allow him entrance and when he passed she caught Ron’s eye behind him.

“Hi, Mione,” Ron said cheerfully as he entered in behind his father. Hermione felt a strange flutter in her stomach. She gaped involuntarily as she looked upon this happy, baby-faced version of her husband. A thousand happy memories of her life with him flashed across her mind at the sight of a genuine smile on his lips and tears welled-up in her eyes.

Ron’s smile faded. “Hermione, are you okay?”

When Hermione continued to stare and didn’t respond he threw a concerned look at his father.

“Hermione?” Arthur said firmly, putting a hand to her shoulder.

The light touch jolted Hermione back to reality and she blinked rapidly to hold back her tears.

“Sorry,” she said softy, “Yes, yes…I’m fine. I’m just really glad that you are here, I guess.”

Arthur smiled with a pat to her shoulder. “Yes, it must have been a little lonely here this morning with your parents leaving so unexpectedly. I am glad you sent us the letter asking to come to the Burrow early, however. Molly is beside herself with relief,” he said, raising his eyebrows at his own thoughts.

“Relief?” Hermione asked in spite of her unease. Ron gave a dark chuckle.

“Mum is relieved that there will be another sane woman in the house to talk to,” he said cryptically.

Hermione looked at him puzzled for a moment and then she remembered. Fleur Delacour had stayed with them that summer and she had driven everyone barmy, especially the Weasley matriarch. Hermione cringed inside. She quickly scanned through all of her past transgressions trying to find the one that had caused karma to be so infuriated with her. Surely this whole thing was some sort of punishment.

“Yes, well, we had better get going. It would not do well to keep her waiting right now,” Arthur said warningly. “Are you all ready?” he asked Hermione expectantly. She nodded and pointed to her trunk.

“Let me just use the loo one last time and I’ll meet you outside,” she said lightly. The men nodded at her and went to her trunk to lug it to the car. Hermione retreated down the hall and locked herself into the small first floor bathroom.

She leaned her hands on the sink and took several shaky breaths. She looked up at herself in the mirror on the wall.

“Get a grip, Hermione,” she said to her reflection. She turned on the tap and splashed some water on her face. She toweled her face gently to dry it and looked at herself over the top of the towel again. “You can do this. You fought a fucking war…you can spend a summer with your teenage husband while thinking about your time travelling lover.” She laughed at her own absurd comment and put down the towel. She took one last calming breath and left the bathroom.

Not bothering to look back, Hermione walked straight down the hall and out the front door. She closed it behind her and then crossed the front lawn to the street where Ron and Arthur were hefting her trunk into the car.

“A Ministry car?” she called to them. Arthur nodded at her.

“Ministry’s been attempting to increase security for employees, so they’re made available rather readily at request,” he answered as he made his way to the driver’s door. Ron made his way to the front passenger side door and got in.

Hermione stood near the car and frowned. Ron hadn’t even attempted to be a gentleman and open her door for her, and he had taken the front seat to leave her in the back by herself.

“Draco would have held the door for me and he would have sat in the back with me,” she thought acidly. She forced down her irritation and got in the car.

As the car rumbled to a start and Arthur turned it into the street, Hermione tried to ignore the feeling of dread that was still nagging at her. “It’s just the Burrow, it’s just a few weeks,” she thought closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the seat.

“You’re sure you are feeling all right?” Arthur’s voice drifted back to her. She looked up to see him eyeing her warily in the rearview mirror. She smiled weakly at him.

“Yes, Mr. Wealsey. Just a bit tired.”

He nodded at her. “Well, feel free to sleep on the way. This is probably the most quiet you’re bound to experience for a while,” he said good-naturedly. Ron turned in his seat to look at her.

“He’s not kidding, Mione,” he said with a smile. “Sleep now, that way you’ll be awake enough to help when Mum makes us clean.” He raised his eyebrows at her and then turned back around.

Hermione slunk down in her seat and closed her eyes. She clutched her hand to her locket and summoned the image of a snoozing Draco to calm herself into a sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You should be happy for him, Cissy,” Draco heard his aunt yell at his mother in the hall as he waited by the sitting room Floo. “He will have the chance to finally bring honor to this family.”

“He is only sixteen, Bella,” his mother snapped back. “He’s not yet even legally allowed to perform magic. What possible reason could the Dark Lord have to want to induct him?”

Draco leaned in the direction of the hall at the silence that followed his mother’s question and strained his ears.

“Lucius’s mistakes must be answered for,” he barely heard Bellatrix answer.

“Draco had nothing to do with Lucius’s actions. I will not have his life destroyed so soon because of something he didn’t do. You are his aunt! You should be trying to protect him and be happy that he is trying to make something better of himself.”

“What could be better than serving the Dark Lord?” Bellatrix asked threateningly.

“He is apprenticing as a Potions Master, and he has a girlfriend,” his mother said with more than a hint of pride.

“Well, we will have to get rid of the filthy little bitch,” his aunt hissed.

“She is a pureblood, Bella. And even if she weren’t, I wouldn’t break them up if she makes Draco happy!”

Draco heard the sound of a face being slapped.

He didn’t know how he had moved so fast, but within seconds he found himself in the hall with his hand clasped around his aunt’s throat. His mother had a hand to her face and stared wide-eyed as he slammed Bellatrix against the wall and lifted her by her neck.

“Shall we give Mother a demonstration of exactly why the Dark Lord wishes me to join his side, Aunt Bellatrix?” he sneered with his face mere inches from hers, his wand pressed into her ribs. He tightened his grip on her throat and she clawed at his wrist desperately. Draco felt a hand rest on his shoulder and he glanced over to see his mother giving him a pleading look.

He immediately softened under her gaze and he released Bellatrix into a coughing heap on the floor. She looked up at him with shock and rubbed a hand to her neck. Draco ignored her and turned to his mother. He brought his hand up gently to the red welt on her cheek. “Are you okay?”

She touched her hand to his and nodded. Draco turned back to meet Bellatrix’s dark eyes with a penetrating stare. “You touch either of us again and I will kill you,” he thought forcefully to her. He knew she could hear him. He felt her try to enter his mind, but he locked down tight. Her eyes narrowed dramatically at him, but her lips curled back over her crooked teeth into an evil smile.

“When we are late to meet the Dark Lord shall I tell him it was because you spent the afternoon sitting on the floor grinning like an imbecile? Or do you think you could get off your fat arse so we can go?” Draco spat at her after a moment.

Narcissa gasped silently at her son’s forcefulness, but Bellatrix simply got up and looked him up and down shrewdly before making her way into the sitting room. Draco guided his mother in behind her and the three went in silence to the Floo. Bellatrix took down a porcelain dish from atop the mantel and thrust it out in Draco’s direction. He and Narcissa each took a handful of the Floo powder contained within it and Bellatrix put it back with a loud clink after taking a handful for herself.

The three of them ducked into the large fireplace. Just before they threw down their fistfuls of powder to begin their journey, Draco thought of Hermione and his mother’s words replayed in his head.

“…if she makes Draco happy.”

His heart swelled with hope and he held on tight to the feeling. He was going to need it where he was going.
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Songs of Regret