Verto Vitae | By : RynStar15 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 40710 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter nor do I make any money or intend any copyright infringement by using the characters therein. |
Draco woke Monday morning after a very restless night and dragged himself down to breakfast, glancing towards the Slytherin table where Blaise was huddled with his cronies, Pansy's gaze darting around the Great Hall as if she expected Valouris to be hiding amongst the Hufflepuffs or ducking behind towers of pancakes. There hadn't been a single word about her disappearance yet, but when classes began Draco knew other students would notice and theories would begin their cycles.
As for Draco, he could hardly care less for his fellow classmates and their wild rumors. His thoughts were stuck at the Burrow with Hermione who reportedly hadn't even left her room since her incident. Everyone knew why. He couldn't have handled the situation any worse. Not only had he been cold and distant to her about her mysterious connection to the Dark Lord, but he'd completely dismissed her declaration and practically thrown it back in her face. Not only that, he'd all but admitted he was in love with her one minute and ran out on her the next. What the bloody hell was wrong with him?
This was exactly what she needed right now on top of everything that was happening. He was such a brainless prat. Who the hell's grand idea had it been to have him help Hermione through this alone? He should have a fucking chaperone, someone to be his puppeteer to tell him exactly what to do and say so shit like this didn't happen.
He'd straight up panicked. There was nothing else to it. At her words he'd felt such elation and terror at the same time that he did the only thing he could think of: run. And now not only was he atoning for his appalling response, but Hermione was stuck at the Burrow with nothing more than his awful behavior and the fear of the Dark Lord's possession to keep her company.
Bloody-fucking-brilliant.
But what choice did he have? If he'd told her he was in love with her, then what? She would create wonderful fantasies of a cottage in the woods and happily-ever-afters when they both knew it could never be. When all of this was over they would go back to their separate lives. It was the way things were. A Pureblooded heir such as he had a duty to marry a powerful connection to keep the lineage strong. His choices were sparse and already laid out for him. He had obligations to uphold, responsibilities that hardly justified a relationship like what he was sure they would have. His wife would be dutiful: provide his heirs and stay out of his way. That was the way the Malfoys worked, what he had always wanted. Hermione needed and deserved so much more than he could give her.
She would figure it out eventually. He hated that he had to hurt her, but everything would work out in the end. She would find someone worthy of her, someone who could give her the time and attention someone as wonderful as she deserved. Someone who would calm her when she got worked up about something. Someone who would hold the hair out of her face when she leaned over a steamy cauldron or a bucket. Someone who could make her melt at their touch, who would love her for the way she bit her nails or the way she huffed in annoyance when she couldn't find something. Someone who would carry her to bed when she'd fallen asleep over a book or hold her when she was sad or scared. Surely there was any number of men who would do all these things in place of him.
But, damn, how he wished he could do it himself.
To keep himself from dwelling on the situation, Draco threw himself zealously into trying to find any whisper of what was happening in the Death Eater world, scanning the Daily Prophet, Evening Prophet, and even the Quibbler for any sign of what they were up to. Muggle crime all over the country had spiked and the Slytherins who were surely linked to You-Know-Who followers were acting up; sneaking around, cursing younger students for the slightest err. Draco himself was receiving a large portion of their wrath but took it silently, secretly content that they picked on him and not the younger children who didn't understand the meaning behind it.
As predicted, by Wednesday the entire school was buzzing about Valouris' disappearance. Draco had stopped doing his schoolwork but since McGonagall and Lupin both knew who he really was now, no teacher bothered him about it and if students looked at him in shock when he didn't raise his hand in class he just shrugged it off and used the pressure of exams to excuse for his bad behavior.
Mrs. Weasley sent them owls nightly to assure them that they were safe and sound, Hermione keeping to her room with the potion which was supposedly coming along well. He had never worried; Hermione didn't need his help in that aspect. She had everything she needed and it was good that she had something to do to keep her mind and hands busy as this portion of the program was difficult and meticulous, requiring an incredible amount of concentration and intellect.
Thursday morning Draco's senses went on high alert. The Slytherin table was missing a large number of students, including Blaise, Theo, Greg and Vincent, Pansy, Millicent, Daphne, and even her younger sister Astoria. Several others seemed to be missing as well…where was Durbin? Quincy? This odd behavior was alarming and when he pointed it out to Potter, the Golden Boy shoved the Daily Prophet under Draco's nose.
LONDON HAS BEEN INVADED
Draco looked up at Potter in horror, noticing that the rest of the hall was oddly hushed, the teachers running up and down their table to whisper to each other, their eyes' darting out at the students.
"Read the article," Potter muttered as the Weasleys sank into seats in front of them looking troubled.
The article went on to explain that Death Eaters had taken up residence in the streets of London and were questioning patrons, wizard or not, as to the whereabouts of Valouris Malfoy and the hidden Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.
"For every day no one steps up with some answers," Fenrir Greyback stated in a forced interview. "Well, let's just say that…accidents happen."
Draco's stomach churned. Gods, he hoped Hermione hadn't caught wind of this. Twisting the stone around his neck nervously he read about the recent damages. Already a prestigious Muggle business building was in ruins, a bus of Muggle children on a field trip were missing, and several known Muggle-born households were found with the Dark Mark above them. Indeed, Sprout was bending over Justin Finch-Fletchley's shoulder, talking to him quietly while he sat still as a statue, fat tears streaking down his face.
The weird blonde girl who always wore a lion's head hat to the Quidditch games took a seat next to Weasley who was shoving waffles into his mouth.
"Luna, what's wrong?" Weaslette asked. Indeed, she looked incredibly wan, her large eyes protruding less than usual, her usually straight stature hunched.
She gave the youngest Weasley a small smile which only increased the pain-wracked features. "Professor Flitwick just spoke to me. You see, a group of Death Eaters went to my house yesterday and tried to force my father to write about these horrible atrocities. It seems he refused them. They found his body in the front garden last night, the house all but gone."
"Oh, Luna!" Weaslette cried, reaching for her friend across the table. "I'm so sorry!"
"Luna, that's awful," Potter said, looking sincerely distressed. "I'm sorry."
"Yes, I'm quite upset over it. He was my only family, you see. But I suppose you know all about that, don't you Harry?"
Draco thought this was a rather rude remark but Potter just nodded while Weaslette rounded her brother to sit on the other side of Luna, taking her hand. Weasley himself had quit stuffing his face and was looking at Luna rather oddly.
"Luna, if there's anything we can do..." Potter began.
She shook her head. "Professor Flitwick said I can leave right after exams to take care of everything. He even said I could leave now if I want."
"Well, where would you go?" Weasley asked, looking at the blonde. "I mean, if you have no family and all-"
"Ron!" the youngest Weasley hissed, but Luna simply shrugged.
"I suppose I'll find a place in Diagon Alley. Maybe Tom will let me stay for a while-"
"Well, why don't you come home with us?" Weasley offered. Everyone looked over at him and he scoffed. "What? I mean, if she has nowhere to go, she can't just be staying at that dingy pub, with creeps lurking around everywhere-"
"What a lovely offer, Ronald," Luna said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek and Weasley turned a brilliant shade of red. "Thank you for listening, but I really have to hurry. I heard rumor that there were some Gulping Plimpies down at the lake. Father always did wish to see them."
As she walked away, Draco turned to the others. "Is she not wearing any shoes?" he asked, perplexed. No one looked back at her, Weasley stuffing his face again, Weaslette pouring back over the Prophet, Potter explaining the recent news to Longbottom who had just joined them.
"Probably not," Weaslette said absentmindedly.
"And what are Gulping Plimpies?"
"No idea."
Draco let it go, still confused, but it was obvious that they all just allowed Luna to be her strange self and had probably stopped questioning.
Classes were subdued, the missing students and the fear of the others that their families were in danger choking out what little life Hogwarts had left. The teachers worked extra hard to keep the students on track with the upcoming finals, but no one seemed to pay attention. Draco didn't even listen to the lessons and instead focused on the whisperings around him, trying to latch onto any wild rumor for more information as to what was happening outside of the castle. Would all of this have happened when they went back? Had Hermione heard everything? He hoped for her sake that she had been kept in the dark.
By dinnertime the Great Hall was buzzing. As the puddings arrived, McGonagall strode along their table and leaned down in the middle of their group.
"If you four would accompany me to my office, please," she said sternly before walking on by, meeting no wandering eyes. Potter looked at him with raised brows but he just shrugged and they rose with the two Weasleys and followed the older witch out and up to the circular room where all of the old headmasters and headmistresses seemed to be getting ready for bed; some tugging on night caps, others peeking out from behind eye covers. Mad-Eye Moody stood from his seat by the window and leaned heavily on his cane, his face somber.
"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Alastor is going to escort you to St. Mungo's where your parents are being treated," McGonagall said bracingly and the two blanched. "They were found this morning by your brother Bill. They are both recovering and asked us not to inform you until after classes."
"But what happened?" Ron demanded. "Why wouldn't you tell us-?"
"It seems Miss Granger may have attacked them when they attempted to prevent her escape," she answered. "Apparently we underestimated the power of the control You-Know-Who wields over her."
"Wait, she's gone?" Draco snapped, his blood running cold.
"I told you that bitch was dangerous!" Ron screamed.
"Language, Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall cried as he turned his snarling gaze on Draco. "And yes, Mr. Malfoy, she has gone. We have everyone we can spare looking for her but the chances of finding her without inside help are very low at this point. We suspect she had already joined with the Dark Lord."
"Then we have to save her!" Draco yelled, his mind whirling with images of her being tortured, shackled in the dungeons below the manor. "They'll kill her!"
The look in her eyes told Draco she thought the same as he. The odds that Hermione was still alive…
"I assure you, we are doing everything we can, Mr. Malfoy," she coaxed before Moody interrupted her.
"We assume she has been taken to the Malfoy Manor," he growled, staring Draco down. "If you can give us any information that might help us retrieve her-"
"I'm going with," he stated resolutely. "You'll need my help; you'll never get in by yourselves." Though he had no idea how he would manage the feat as he was no longer a Malfoy, but he didn't deem it prudent to tell them that now.
"Mr. Malfoy, I really do not think that is the best idea-"
"I don't bloody care what you think!" he shouted at his headmistress, as shocked as everybody else at this unexpected outburst. "It's my fault she is in this at all; I'm not going to just stand aside while those sick bastards slaughter her! We have to act now!"
McGonagall looked to Moody who had stepped forward at Draco's sudden display of anger. They seemed to speak with their eyes and Draco waited impatiently, not meeting the stares of the others, digging his nails into his palms to still their tremor.
"I will escort Mr. Malfoy to Bill's after I take Ron and Ginny to St. Mungo's," Moody finally said slowly. McGonagall's lips thinned but she finally gave a curt nod and Draco ripped open the door so as to hurry the others along.
"I'm going with Malfoy," Potter proclaimed. Moody looked amusedly to McGonagall who threw her hands up in resignation.
"Mind you your death will not get you out of that essay on Animagi, Mr. Potter, and I expect it to be on my desk Monday morning," McGonagall snapped, dropping into her chair and pulling a sheaf of parchment towards her.
"Yes ma'am," he said with a half-smirk and led the way out of the office.
No one spoke as they wended their way through students thronging up to their dormitories for the night, a few recognizing their former professor and nudging their friends, whispering behind their hands at his strange appearance. It wasn't until they were crossing the mist shrouded grounds that the heavy silence was punctured by Weasley's grating voice.
"Think there's any chance they haven't done her in yet?" he asked scathingly.
"Ron!" his sister gasped.
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley," Moody grunted dangerously.
"What? We're all thinking it."
Draco envisioned his fingers wrapping around Weasley's gangly neck and could almost feel his windpipe caving beneath his grip. It was easier to keep his mind on how much he hated the freckled prick than on the single question he had voiced, the only thing Draco could think about. How long had Hermione been with the Dark Lord? Could she possibly still be alive? Was she scared, hurting? Or was she soulless, having been fed to the Dementors? Had his aunt tortured her to insanity yet? Would she even know who he was? Would she remember what he'd said...?
When they arrived at the large wrought iron gate Moody tapped it with his wand and it swung forward silently. After replacing all of the enchantments he drew a mangled quill from inside his leather robe and tapped it with his wand. It glowed blue and they all stepped forward to place a finger on it, everyone pointedly not meeting each other's eyes.
"Three, two, one-"
Draco felt the familiar grip around his middle that accompanied Portkey transportation. Used to traveling this way, he landed on his feet and lifted a brow to the other three teenagers who were sprawled in a tangled heap on the floor of St. Mungo's.
"This way," Moody said, hurrying forward to a harried looking witch with a clipboard trying to make sense of the squawks a molting warlock was emitting.
"Arthur and Molly Weasley, please, their children are here to see them," the Auror stated.
"I'm sorry, you'll have to wait in line and ask the Welcoming Witch, I don't have any room numbers," the young girl said, sounding strained as she continued trying to talk to the warlock. "Sir, do you remember how you got here? Did someone bring you?"
Her words were drowned out by a screaming child whose bottom half had somehow been transformed into tentacles, his father desperately looking for help.
"Alastor! Alastor, over here!" someone yelled and they all turned to see a man with long red hair tied back in a thong making his way through the crowd.
"Bill!" Weaslette yelled, running into her older brother's arms. "Mum? Dad?"
"They're fine, Gin, they've just finished their dinner," Bill answered, stepping forward to embrace Weasley with a clap on his shoulder.
"Well come on back, mum's been having kittens over you all," he said, making to lead them down a hallway.
"I'll be taking this lot," Moody said, signaling to Draco and Potter. "See what we can do about finding Miss Granger."
Draco shuffled restlessly, anxious to get out of there. Were exchanging pleasantries completely necessary with Hermione's life on the line?
"Right. Fleur's got dinner on the stove, I'll catch you guys up in a bit," the elder Weasley said, draping his arm over his younger sister's shoulders. "Harry?"
"I'm going with Malfoy, give your parents my best," he answered, dropping a kiss on Weaslette's head and squeezing her hand.
Draco rushed them forward, feeling edgy. Every second they delayed could be Hermione's last.
"Grab my arm, if you would," Moody instructed after they had exited the building to the empty Muggle street. Potter took one arm, Draco the other, and the three of them were being sucked through a tube, landing in sand on a cliff overlooking the ocean. A cozy whitewashed cottage was nestled amongst a thriving garden, smoke puffing from the chimney, the windows ablaze. The three men strode forward and Fleur met them at the door.
"Iz everything alright? Bill said you were meeting 'im at St. Mungo's," she asked nervously, wiping her hands on an apron stretched over her immense belly.
"We did and word is that Molly and Arthur are doing just fine."
"Oh, thank goodness!" Then she caught sight of Potter. "'Arry! Eet iz wonderful to see you!"
Draco grinned as Potter turned red when Fleur swooped down on him, kissing both of his cheeks. She turned to Draco then and he nearly kicked himself for the drop of his belly at her beauty.
"'Ave we met? I am not sure..."
"Yeah, we've met a few times-" he started and then braced himself as she leaned up to kiss him as well, causing his joints to take on the consistency of gelatin. Draco scowled as Potter muffled a chuckle with his fist.
"Come een, come een, we are just getting started," the part-Veela summoned and Moody took the opportunity as soon as she turned her back to smack both teenagers on the back of the head, Potter receiving the brunt of it as Moody's cane was in that hand. Draco would have rounded on the older man, but had to admit the blow had steadied his senses and he scolded himself for his reaction to the witch. He'd been in her vicinity numerous times, but had never been on the receiving end of her affection and now couldn't blame Potter or Weasley for their reactions.
Fleur bustled them into the warm dining room where a dozen or more witches and wizards were sitting and standing around the table with bowls of stew and chunks of bread, goblets of mead, and pumpkin juice. There were greetings from all sides as Fleur shoved food into their hands, Draco setting his on the table with barely a word of thanks.
"Listen up, you lot. We need to start splitting up into search parties," Moody thundered over the roar of the crowd. "Mr. Malfoy claims he can help get us into the Manor, so we'll need volunteers-"
Everyone jumped when a high pitched wailing broke out. Chaos ensued; everyone rushed into the living room where what looked like a Family Clock was hanging above the mantle, although there was only one bright red hand pointing straight up to words Draco couldn't read. His curiosity was satisfied when someone screamed out-
"Headquarters!"
"Alright everyone, let's move out, you know the drill!" Kingsley shouted above the din. Fleur squeezed her way amongst the crowd to tap the strange clock with her wand and the alarm desisted.
"Stay here with Fleur, you are not to leave the house, do you understand me?" Moody instructed Draco and Potter as others surged towards the front door.
"What's going on?" Draco demanded.
"Headquarters has been broken into," he explained hastily, drawing his wand out.
"But what about Hermione?" Draco snapped.
"I'm sorry, but it's going to have to wait," his ex-professor yelled, already running for the door, turning to his protege. "Tonks!"
"Like hell." Draco followed the others who were disappearing one by one with loud pops.
"Where do you think you're going, Malfoy?" Potter bellowed over the commotion.
"I'm not going to sit back and wait while Hermione is being tortured!"
Potter grabbed his elbow, yanking him back. "They'll kill you, Malfoy! How can you possibly think you'll get her out alive on your own?"
"I have to fucking try!"
The door swung shut as he approached it and Draco rounded on Fleur.
"You are going to stay 'ere until zey come back," she said, her face hard. "Zere iz no sense in you getting yourself keeled by being an impetuous teenager. 'Arry should 'ave taught you that lesson."
Draco looked at Potter who was holding his own wand aloft, aimed at his chest. "I don't like this anymore than you do. I love Leon like a brother and I imagine I feel the same about Hermione. But nothing good will come of us rushing in there unprepared and outnumbered. That's exactly how I got my godfather killed and I won't see the same happen to Hermione."
"How can you just sit here and do nothing?" Draco hollered, his chest tight at the thought of Hermione's imprisonment.
"Because it's better than getting someone killed by acting rashly!" Potter yelled. "I understand how you feel, if that was Ginny out there I would be mad with worry and you would be holding a wand to keep me in this house. But you have to think of what is best for her. Getting yourself killed won't solve anything."
Eventually they talked him down and the fact that he'd been locked in the house helped to get him settled on the couch, then pacing, then staring out the window, then pacing again. The three of them waited in silence, Fleur cleaning, Potter brooding in an armchair by the fire, his head whipping to the window at every sound.
It seemed like an eternity but the actual clock mounted on the wall told Draco it had barely been three-quarters of an hour when the sounds of Apparition sounded outside. They all ran to the window but it was too dark to see anything more than a dozen shapes popping up just outside the barrier.
"Why aren't zey coming eenside?" Fleur asked anxiously, wringing her hands. Then they all felt the shudder that indicated the barriers being broken.
"Fleur, get into the kitchen," Potter said gallantly, striding to the door while whipping his wand out, Draco doing the same.
"Like 'ell!" she answered, pulling her own wand out of the pocket of her apron. Draco would have grinned at her spark but he was too preoccupied with the intruders stalking towards the house. The three of them formed something of a wall before the door and when it opened, all wands were trained on Moody and-
"Hermione!" Draco cried, making to go to her, but Potter held him back.
"What did you give me on my arrival to headquarters last summer?" Potter snapped at Moody, his arm still on a struggling Draco.
"A picture of your parents at a dinner part just before you were born," he grunted. "And I've already checked Miss Granger, it's her. We had to put down the barriers for obvious reasons."
Draco hardly heard any of this exchange as his attention was wholly on an exhausted, though seemingly uninjured, Hermione. Her nightgown was torn in several places; she was filthy, her hair matted, dirt coating her bare feet and gown. She refused to meet his eye and instead kept them trained on the floor.
They stood aside to let the two in as the others outside replaced barriers. Fleur rushed forward and draped a shoddily hand-knitted afghan over Hermione's shivering shoulders much as Mrs. Weasley had done several nights before. She mumbled her thanks, her eyes closing, obviously drained. Draco hovered by the fireplace, unsure of what to do. He knew she must still be angry with him but at the moment he didn't give a shit. Terrible visions of what might have happened to her, what she must have gone through to get away from the Dark Lord for a second time, were consuming him so that he wanted nothing but to wrap his arms around her to be sure she was really here.
"What happened?" Potter finally asked as they all settled around the fire.
"Are you guys good here?" a sandy haired man asked from the doorway.
"Yes, we're fine. I'll meet up with you once we get things sorted out here," Moody answered, eyeing Hermione.
"Right-o, we're off then." And everyone who had just entered left grumpily, looking as if they would rather stay and indulge in the comfy chairs and deep couch which Hermione was settled at the edge of. Tonks rushed forward to whisper something in Moody's ear who nodded before she turned and left with the others.
"What happened?" Potter repeated after Tonks tripped out the door. "Was headquarters broken into? And where did she come from?"
"Well, headquarters was attempted to be broken into," Moody answered. "By Miss Granger, here."
"What?!" Potter snapped while Draco looked to Hermione for confirmation, but she just hugged the afghan tighter around herself.
"It was her way of alerting us. She couldn't get into any of the safe houses obviously, said she's been Apparating all over the country trying to throw off the Death Eaters," Moody explained, wincing as he straightened out his wooden leg.
"Hermione, what happened?" Draco finally blurted after several moments of intense silence. She heaved a great sigh and finally looked up, her face ashen.
"How are Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? Are they alright?" she croaked as if she hadn't even heard his question.
"They're fine, at St. Mungo's as we speak and are expected to make a full recovery," Moody answered. Draco could see the alarm flash across her eyes but she otherwise made no movement.
"Did I-?"
"Yes."
She nodded and weakly pulled the blanket tighter. Face to the ground, her hair falling in a lanky curtain to hide herself from view, she began.
"I don't know how I got out of the Burrow. I don't remember anything until I was standing on the sidewalk in front of the Malfoy Manor. There were several of them there, waiting for me. There was a fight, I don't know how long…I've been sleeping with my wand on me, just in case, you see. Stunned a few, maybe injured a couple...But there was more, always more. And then He was there. Voldemort. He was just there, out of nowhere. He was livid…His eyes…I t-tried to Apparate, but someone grabbed me. I took them with me. I tried to shake him off when we landed but he was so strong…he fought, didn't even use a wand. He's more animal than human now…"
"Who?" Potter asked.
Hermione looked up almost apologetically. "Fenrir Greyback."
Draco shot across the room to kneel at Hermione's feet, tugging her head up so he could look in her eyes. She tried to pull away from him but he held tight.
"Did he bite you?" he snarled, his fingers digging into her arms. She refused to meet his gaze. "Hermione, did he bite you?"
She shook her head. "No."
Draco sighed and the others around the room made sounds of relief.
"Did he hurt you?" She shrugged, pulling her arm out of his weak grasp, an obvious dismissal which stung when he remembered how only days ago she had sought his comfort.
"I'm fine."
Taking the hint, Draco backed off to his prior station by the fire as Fleur bustled in with a cup of tea for Hermione who murmured her thanks. After taking a sip she seemed slightly more composed and Draco had a strong feeling the tea was laced.
"After I was able to shake Greyback off I ran for it. As it turned out, sometime during our scuffle he happened to place some sort of tracking device on me so that whenever I used magic, namely Apparition, everyone with another one would be sent to me.."
Draco cursed, scrubbing his face at the thought of her jumping around the country in terror while they showed up at every turn...
"But where would he put it?" Potter asked, eyeing her flimsy shift and Draco nearly growled at his roving gaze.
She lifted her hand to the back of her neck. Moody hobbled over to her and moved her hair aside to exam it and even from his distant spot Draco could see the ugly black hand-shaped bruise. It looked as though Greyback had nearly throttled her in his attempt to place the device on her.
"How did you-?"
She cleared her throat. "I had to slice it off. I don't think it was meant to be removable."
Fleur made a small sound of horror while Moody continued to examine the area. Seemingly satisfied, the Auror returned to his seat while Draco's stomach burned with the thought of her alone and scared having to literally rip that thing off her skin. Hermione took another bracing sip of tea, her eyes glazing over momentarily before clearing, proving Draco's theory that the drink was heavily doused.
"They stopped showing up wherever I was after it was off. Once I was sure they couldn't follow me I went to headquarters, knowing this thing-" she lifted her left arm "-would set off the alarms. I'm sorry to have worried anyone, but I didn't know how else to get your attention."
"No, you did the right thing, lass," Moody assured her gruffly. "Is there anything else you need to tell us?"
"No, no that's everything," she murmured with a shudder.
"We should call zat nurse from 'Ogwarts," Fleur fussed, moving over to Hermione to tug the afghan further up her shoulders.
"No, please, don't go to any trouble," Hermione pleaded. "I'm not hurt-"
"Like hell," Draco growled, making her head snap up, a pleading look in her eye. "Your neck, your feet-"
"Scratches and bruises, nothing I can't handle," she replied scathingly. "Please, I'm just...tired. I'm so tired. I just want to go to bed."
Indeed, the bruising beneath her eyes seemed to have nothing to do with injury. She looked ill, as if she hadn't slept properly, if at all, since they'd realized her connection with the Dark Lord.
"Well, if you're sure, then I need to get this to the Auror's. Mr. Malfoy, I think it's best if you two stay here until tomorrow night. We'll have the potion brought over as soon as we can spare someone," Moody said as he rose heavily to his feet. "Tonks will be stationed right outside the door and guards will be patrolling the barrier until you two leave."
"Thank you," he replied monotonously, his eyes never leaving Hermione.
"Mr. Potter," Moody commanded. Reluctantly, Potter stood and went to Hermione, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes glistening.
"Thank you," he said. She looked as though she desperately wanted to embrace him but seemed to think better of it and simply nodded. He then turned to Draco and held out his hand. Draco looked at it with surprise before taking the firm handshake.
"Good luck," Potter said sincerely.
"And you."
The two disappeared into the night and tension filled the room like a bubble.
"Come dear, let us get you cleaned up," Fleur bade, pulling Hermione to her feet and escorting her towards the back of the cottage. She emerged several moments later with a heap of blankets and pillows.
"Sorry, we only have one 'uzzer room," she apologized throatily. "Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable?"
"No, this will be fine, thanks," Draco replied, not giving a damn about where he slept. Fleur flicked her wand and the blankets and sheets made themselves into a cozy bed on the couch, the pillows plumping themselves.
"If you need anything at all my room is down ze 'all at ze very end," she said. "Bill should be 'ere soon."
He nodded, not having anything to say, and she turned to check on Hermione, her silver hair fanning.
Draco listened to the sound of running water, to the soft voices of the women as they spoke. When Bill returned he simply nodded to Draco before heading down the hall in search of his wife. Uncomfortable with his surroundings, Draco laid down and eventually the lights dimmed until only the glowing embers of the fire remained.
The house was quiet. He figured Hermione had already gone to bed. He wanted to go to her, to crawl in next to her where he knew she would be warm and soft. He wanted her to kiss him, to tell him everything was going to be alright, that he never had to worry about her again because she was going to stay right where she was with the strongest enchantments and hundreds of bodyguards on her at all times until every evil in the world was rid of.
Yeah, right. Hermione Granger standing aside and letting someone take care of her? It was laughable.
Fighting the urge to sneak to Hermione's room, Draco stared into the dying light of the fire until the sounds of the ocean rocking against the cliffs outside lulled him to sleep.
.
.
.
XOXO
RynStar15
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