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
- 17
- 18
- 19
A/N: @Victoria, staar, VengTour2230, HG4eva, hinamori: Wow, thank you for the amazing reviews. I sometimes worry that I’m turning people off to my story because it’s too heavy. But I feel like the whole point of fanfiction is to really feel and experience all possible emotions of the characters we all love, so it’s lovely to know that you’re all sticking with me…and them. :)
@ Trelweny: I can appreciate your sentiments regarding Ron. I’ve always had a tough time pinpointing just how I think Ron would act in a variety of situations. He’s simple and yet complex… Sometimes he flies off the handle, sometimes he is strategic. I personally feel like he has liked Hermione since the very beginning and that he teased her and showed annoyance with her at first because he was too young to understand his own feelings. (I think this about Draco too if I’m being honest.) Plus in this story Ron is feeling something he wouldn’t have last time… perhaps the pearl did not erase everything…
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Draco stumbled into the wall as a body bumped against him. He steadied himself and took another swig from the bottle of Firewhiskey clasped in his right hand. He hissed appreciatively at its delightful burn and then held the bottle in the air as he kicked back off the wall.
Rock music blared through the room and Draco bounced involuntarily with the beat as he was jostled between the grinding Death Eaters around him. He felt several hands rub along him as he passed, but he shrugged them all away and made his way across the room.
Snape was lounging in an arm chair in the corner with his feet propped up on wooden crate containing more bottles of Firewhiskey. He watched the revelry with a bored expression which he turned to Draco when he spotted him emerging from the gyrating mob.
“Having fun?” Snape asked with a hint of disapproval. Draco finished the last of his whiskey and with a sniff at Snape hurled the empty bottle at the wall. It shattered loudly, but no one seemed to care. Snape merely raised an eyebrow.
“If I’m going to be stuck in this hell hole then I’m going to get as pissed as humanly possible… and then drink some more,” Draco replied as he pushed Snape’s heavy foot aside to grab a new bottle. He tore the cork out with his freshly repaired teeth and spit it into the crowd.
Snape dropped his feet to the floor and pushed up from the chair. He went to Draco and snatched the bottle out of his hand just as he brought it to his mouth. He brought the bottle to his own and downed a healthy portion before Draco could protest. Snape thrust the bottle back at Draco and then shucked his robes and threw them onto the chair.
“How’s that feeling?” Snape said with a nod toward the left arm hanging limply at Draco’s side; the Dark Mark clearly visible as Draco had forgone his robes and changed into a comfortable black t-shirt.
Draco swallowed his mouthful of whiskey with a grimace. “It only completely fucking hurts,” he huffed and took another drink. He handed the bottle back to Snape.
“You handled yourself well up there,” he said as he grabbed the bottle, “perhaps too well. You’ve already gained a reputation…”
“Meaning?”
Snape looked around cautiously and lowered his voice. “You and Maxwell were the only two that didn’t scream, and you were the first to be able to stand and talk again. You’ve become a target. The men want to challenge you to see if you’re as tough as you looked. And the women…” Snape smirked and took another swig.
Draco stole the bottle back. “No one messed with me last time.”
“Well then something changed because you will not make it to morning without a confrontation.”
Draco scanned his eyes around the room. Snape was right. Several sets of eyes were narrowed at him. He frowned and finished off the bottle. He tossed the bottle lightly up and down in his hand as he spoke under his breath, “Perhaps we should show them how tough I am then.”
“You think you can survive another round with me one armed?” Snape taunted lightly. Draco grinned.
“Bring it old man.”
Snape shrugged slightly and turned to him. Without warning he punched Draco’s left arm.
“FUCK!!” Draco roared as he staggered to the side and dropped the bottle. Several heads turned in his direction at his cry. Before he could fully recover, Snape punched the arm again. Draco fell to his knees and wretched.
“What…the…fuck!? Low…blow…” he wheezed.
“What are you going to do about it, boy!?” Snape said loudly. Several more heads turned.
As Draco attempted to get up Snape kicked him in the ribs. Draco fell onto his back and gasped for breath.
“You’re as pathetic as your father,” Snape sneered at him. Excited murmurs rippled among those that were watching and drew even more attention. Adrenaline kicked in and Draco focused.
Snape went to land another kick, and this time Draco saw it coming. He braced himself on his right arm and swung his legs out quickly, kicking Snape’s leg out from under him. Snape fell hard to the ground with a grunt.
Half of the crowd was now watching.
Draco launched himself on top of Snape and socked him hard across the face. Snape grabbed Draco’s left forearm and pulled.
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!”
Everyone was now focused on the fight.
Draco wrenched his arm free and fell back. He gulped for breath and then scrambled to his feet as Snape did the same. There was a brief stand-off as they glared at each other.
Draco was the first to move. He faked like he was about to lunge and when Snape went forward to react, Draco spun and roundhouse kicked him in the side of the head. The crowd erupted in shouts and whoops.
Snape shook his head and then held up his arms in defense as Draco came at him with an elbow strike. Snape successfully blocked and then caught Draco in the side of the head with his own lightening fast elbow follow-through. The blow forced Draco’s head down and Snape’s knee came up. Draco barely blocked the knee with his hand and then swiftly pulled back and threw an uppercut that found its mark in Snape’s lower jaw.
Snape stumbled back and Draco took the opportunity to deliver another crushing blow to his face. Blood spurted from his nose and he swayed. Draco spun again and kicked him in the other side of the head and Snape fell to the floor. Draco pulled his wand from his back pocket and pointed it at Snape as he attempted to sit up.
A hush fell over the riveted crowd.
Snape looked up and his eyes went wide when he saw the wand trained on him.
“Does anyone else have a fucking problem with me!?” Draco hollered to the masses, keeping his eyes locked on Snape’s.
“Are you all right?” Draco thought to him.
“That was well done. How’s the arm?”
“It hurts you prick.”
When Draco got no response from the crowd he lowered his wand slowly, and Snape sat up all the way. Their audience dispersed and returned to their previous activities. Draco could already feel the difference in the tension in the room as he replaced his wand in his pocket.
“I think you’ll be safe for a while now…at least from the men,” Snape breathed with a grimace as he got to his feet. He pulled out his wand and fixed his face and then went to the crate and pulled out a bottle. He tossed it to Draco who caught it and then took out a bottle for himself.
Draco shifted his eyes over a group of women leering at him suggestively. “I’d sooner cut my dick off than touch one of these whores,” he scoffed as he brought the bottle up to pull the cork. Snape chuckled.
“I doubt Margaret would be happy about that.”
Draco shot him a warning look. “Watch it, Sev.”
Snape just grinned. Draco furrowed his brow but relaxed and took a long drink from his bottle.
“Hey, did you send my note?” he asked after he swallowed. Snape nodded and then sat gingerly back in his armchair with his bottle in hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, Gin?” Hermione called over her shoulder as she picked up a picture frame from a shelf in the living room.
“Yeah…What’s up?” Ginny replied anxiously as she bounded into the room. She had just calmed Hermione down enough to leave the bedroom and was worried that something had upset her again. She was relieved then when Hermione simply held a picture up to her.
“Is this a picture of that field at the back of the property?”
Ginny took the frame and glanced at the tall grass that swayed lazily within it. “Yes. No one ever really goes back there, but Mum thinks it’s pretty. She stares at this quite a lot actually,” she answered handing the frame back to Hermione.
“Huh,” Hermione responded lightly as she placed the picture back on the shelf. A tea kettle whistled.
“Oh! Be right back,” Ginny said as she darted back out of the room.
When Ginny disappeared around the corner Hermione quickly removed the photo from its frame and pulled out her wand. She cast a quick gemino spell on the photo and an exact copy unfolded from the original. She stuffed her wand and the copy in her robe pocket and replaced the photo in its frame just as Ginny came back around carrying a tea tray.
Ginny placed the tray on the low table in front of the sofa and then sat. Hermione came around and joined her. They were quietly sipping their tea when Ron slumped in and plopped down in the arm chair across the table from them. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and then leaned forward and grabbed a handful of biscuits from the tray.
“Yes Ron, help yourself. Thanks for asking,” Ginny said sarcastically as Ron shoved a whole biscuit in his mouth.
He shrugged and stuffed in another. “Give me a break. I’m hungry. Mum had me workin’ in the yard,” he said around his mouthful, shooting little crumbs from his lips. Hermione sniffed with a small shake of her head at his atrocious manners. They’d never get any better. But Draco has impeccable manners.
A pained look flitted across Hermione’s face at the thought as she took a sip from her cup. Ron furrowed his brow a little.
“So who’s this git that makes you cry all the time?” he asked disparagingly as he sat back in the chair.
Ginny lowered her cup and shot a worried sideways glance at Hermione. Hermione calmly finished her sip before she answered without looking up.
“He is not a git.”
“Yeah, well he shouldn’t be making you cry all the time.”
“You made me cry plenty,” Hermione quietly snorted into her cup as she took another sip.
“What was that?” Ron asked leaning forward. Hermione set down her cup and looked him in the face.
“I’m crying for him Ronald, not because of him. There is a difference. He has been nothing but good to me since we’ve been together.”
“And before that?” Ron retorted with a raised eyebrow.
Hermione sighed and leaned back, “Look, I really appreciate your concern and all, but I don’t want to talk about him.”
Ron huffed. “I just don’t like seeing you so sad, Mione.”
Just as Ron finished his sentence a tapping sounded at the living room window. The three of them turned their heads to see an unfamiliar barn owl tapping at the glass with a letter in its beak. They all exchanged a confused glance before Ginny got up and opened the window.
The owl flew in, dropped the letter into Hermione’s lap and then soared back out the window.
Hermione blinked down at the envelope in her lap and her heart lodged in her throat. She carefully picked it up and turned it over. There were no markings on the outside of the envelope and it was sealed with a nondescript drop of wax.
“Who’s it from?” Ron asked warily.
Hermione shook her head, “It doesn’t say.”
She cautiously popped the seal with her finger and then pulled a folded note from the envelope. Ginny and Ron anxiously watched her unfold the note and were startled when she smiled a wide genuine smile…the first they’d seen from her since she had arrived.
“Well?” Ron asked expectantly.
Hermione ignored him a moment and reread the note that contained Draco’s distinct writing: "Right hand-right eyebrow. Right ear x 3."
She looked back up at Ron as she smiled. “You don’t have to worry about me being sad anymore Ron.”
“It’s from him?” Ginny inquired hopefully. Hermione nodded and grabbed a biscuit from the tray. She chewed it happily, leaned back and closed her eyes in relief. Draco had made it…he was okay.
Hermione woke early the next morning and actually smiled at the dawning sunlight. Draco’s simple note letting her know that he was okay had rekindled her spirit. She still missed him terribly, but she was no longer weighted down by the crushing feelings of worry and fear that had consumed her the past few days. He had survived…and for now that was enough.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked over at Ginny’s sleeping form. She smiled appreciatively at the redhead. One day she’d have to do something special to thank her for what she had done for her. Maybe something that allowed her to go see Harry.
Hermione nearly slapped herself upside the head. She had to keep reminding herself that Ginny and Harry weren’t together yet. She couldn’t seem to grasp the idea of them being single again as they had been so perfect together for so long. Well, if things happened as they did before they’d be together by the end of this school year…
Wait…if things happened as before…Harry! This was the day that Harry came to The Burrow.
Hermione bolted from the bed and out of the room. She couldn’t wait to see Harry. She hoped his presence would alleviate some of the awkward tension that now existed between her and Ron. Plus sheer curiosity had her wanting to see him as a sixteen year-old again.
She hurled herself down the stairs three steps at a time and slid into the kitchen to find Molly already preparing breakfast. The Weasley matriarch startled at Hermione’s sudden entrance.
“Oh! Hermione, dear…you gave me a start. What’s wrong, are you feeling ill again?” she asked pushing her already frazzled hair out of her face.
“No, no. Sorry, Mrs. Weasley. I’m feeling much better, thank you. I…I just wondered if Harry was here yet.”
Ron came lumbering down the stairs just as Hermione finished her sentence. He rubbed his scalp and stretched. “Harry?” he asked sleepily. “Oh yeah…Harry’s coming today.”
“He’s already here. Dumbledore brought him over night. I’m preparing a tray for him right now,” Molly said without looking up from her cooking.
Ron’s eyes went wide. “What!? He’s here now? Why didn’t you wake us up when he got here?”
Hermione didn’t wait for an answer as she pushed past Ron and darted back up the stairs to Fred and George’s old room. When she got to the door, Ron had caught-up to her and he barged into the room.
Hermione came in behind him as Harry bolted upright in his bed at the noise of their entrance. Ron ran to the window and threw open the curtains to flood the room with sunlight.
“Wuzzgoinon?” Harry said groggily as he felt around for his glasses on the nightstand.
Hermione had to take a steadying breath. This whole scene was surreal; déjà vu in the extreme. She remembered this.
“We didn’t know you were here already!” Ron yelled excitedly, smacking Harry over the head. Hermione just gawked at the two as they bantered back and forth exactly as they had all those years ago. When they stopped talking, Harry looked up at Hermione and they locked eyes.
Harry blinked at her without saying anything. He swallowed hard. A strange combination of guilt and arousal and appreciation tousled in his gut. He imagined this would be the feeling one might have after a one night stand. What the hell?
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, hi, Hermione. How…how’re you?”
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry. This was not how he had acted toward her the first time. Something was different. She cautiously sat on the end of the bed.
“I’m fine,” she answered softly and Ron snorted. She shot him an annoyed look and Ron rolled his eyes. Harry looked between the two.
“Am I missing something?” he asked hesitantly.
“Only that she’s been crying over Mr. Perfect for the last five days,” Ron answered.
“Stop calling him that,” Hermione said as she leaned over and punched Ron in the shoulder. Ron rubbed it and gave her a sly smile.
“Who’s Mr. Perfect?” Harry asked looking thoroughly confused.
“Hermione’s new boyfriend,” Ron answered sulkily.
“Oh. Wow, Hermione. Uh, congratulations?” Harry said with another tentative look between her and Ron.
“Yes, Harry. Thank-you,” Hermione said switching her frown at Ron into a smile at Harry.
“So who is he?” Harry asked sitting up a little straighter in the bed.
“She won’t tell us,” Ron pouted as he picked at some tape hanging off of the cardboard box he was sitting on next to the bed.
“What? Why not?” Harry asked looking back at Hermione. She sighed loudly.
“Because I can’t…okay?” she answered in an exasperated tone. “One day I will tell you both…I will tell everyone. But for now you’ll just have to accept that I have a boyfriend, and for the love of Merlin, please don’t ask me anything else about him.”
Hermione knew she sounded rude, especially considering Harry had just learned the news, but she hated having to lie to them and she didn’t want them to keep forcing her to.
Harry and Ron gaped at her for a moment, but before they could respond, a pajama clad Ginny appeared in the doorway looking hassled.
“Gah…she’s driving me cra…” Ginny started to speak as she stepped into the room, but she stopped the moment she made eye contact with Harry. She halted in her tracks and the two of them stared at each other intensely.
Ron and Hermione gave each other a curious glance and then looked back and forth between Ginny and Harry as they stared. Ron leaned forward and waved a hand in front of Harry’s face, but Harry didn’t even blink. Ron looked back at Hermione.
“What the bloody hell’s the matter with them?” he whispered to her. Hermione shrugged anxiously.
What the bloody hell was going on? Harry had looked at her funny; like he felt something he couldn’t remember…Ron was being so forward with her… Ginny and Harry were lost in each other…
“Oh my god,” Hermione breathed to herself as an idea occurred to her. All of their souls had ‘melded.’ Their minds couldn’t remember…but their souls could.
Just as Hermione started to worry about what to do, Fleur entered the room carrying Harry’s breakfast tray followed by a red-faced Molly. Harry and Ginny finally broke their gaze and shook their heads as if to clear them.
“’Arry. Eet ‘as been too long!” Fleur chimed as she crossed the room. Hermione just sat on the edge of the bed in a funk as she watched the rest of the scene play-out nearly exactly as it had before. It was like being in a giant Pensieve, and it was creepy as hell. She was never going to get used to this.
When Fleur and Molly finally left the room, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She was even more relieved when Ron, instead of being all goo-goo eyed at Fleur like he had been the first time, changed things up and turned to Ginny with a frown. She was staring at Harry again.
“Oi! You two need a little alone time? Should we leave?” he asked jokingly.
“Yes,” Harry and Ginny answered in perfect unison with their eyes still locked.
Ron’s jaw dropped comically. Hermione bit her lip and stood from the edge of the bed. She took hold of Ron’s arm and pulled him up from his seat on the box. She tugged his heavy form to the door and thrust him into the hall.
“Hey! What are you playin’ at? You can’t expect me to actually leave them alone in there!? That’s my bloody sister!” Ron protested loudly as Hermione followed him into the hall and closed the door behind her.
“Trust me, she’s in good hands,” Hermione answered as she took a step down the hall.
“Like hell,” Ron spat making a move to the door. Hermione grabbed hold of his arm.
“You will leave them be,” she said firmly, “and you will not be angry about it. Harry will treat her like a queen, and you know it.”
A moan sounded from behind the door and Ron went purple in the face. Hermione slashed her wand at the door and cast a silencing spell on the room.
“Hermione!? What has gotten into you?” Ron spluttered, the color draining from his face. “Doing magic outside of school… fucking strange blokes… getting my little sister laid!?”
Hermione frowned and crossed her arms. “How would you have me behave, Ronald?”
Ron blinked at her in silent shock. His eyes darted over her face and he pursed his lips as if he were searching her for some kind of revelation. Hermione stared back expectantly. She suddenly found herself being pushed roughly against the wall as Ron ground his hips into her and tangled a hand into her hair.
“Rona..” she started to yell when her voice was silenced by Ron’s mouth covering her own. He tightened his fist in her hair and pulled. The discordant screech of a violin echoed down the hall as Hermione shoved him away.
“I’m sorry,” Ron panted with a panicked look on his face. He stepped back until he hit the opposite wall. “I…I…I don’t…” he shook his head and looked at her apologetically.
Hermione clutched one hand to her heaving chest and wiped her mouth roughly with the back of her other.
“It’s okay,” she huffed slightly as she straightened herself. There was a brief awkward silence as they both just stared at the floor.
“You really love him, don’t you?” Ron finally asked quietly. Hermione looked back up at him and nodded. Ron looked thoughtful for a moment and then looked sadly at the bedroom door he knew Harry and Ginny were behind.
“You’ll find her,” Hermione said softly. Ron looked back at her with a questioning look.
“Find who?”
“Mrs. Perfect,” she said with a small smile. She walked up to him and placed a hand to his cheek.
“I always thought Mrs. Perfect would be you,” he replied quietly leaning his face into her hand. Hermione twisted her mouth and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear before she responded.
“You and I would have been good together…for a while. But after the war we’d realize that we had little in common and over the years we would grow apart. What was once beautiful would turn ugly. We would resent each other. In the end, you would leave me for another woman and I would be happy to fall into the arms of another man.”
Ron let out a small laugh and shook his head. “Why does it feel like that already happened? Are you a Seer now too?”
“Yes, because we both know how great I was at Divination,” Hermione said sardonically. Ron blinked at her a moment and then they both burst out laughing.
Hermione relished the sounds of their laughter mingling again. It felt so good to have Ron back as a friend instead of a brooding, unhappy husband. She hugged him. Ron hugged her back and kissed the top of her head.
Just then Molly came trudging up the stairs. "Ginny! Get down here and..."
She halted to a stop at the sight of Ron and Hermione embracing at the top of the landing.
"Oh, um...yes, Ron would you please tell Ginny to come downstairs to help finish breakfast?" she asked failing at a weak attempt to suppress a gleeful grin.
"Ginny is in the loo, Mrs. Weasley. She had a slight stomach ache," Hermione piped-up, detaching herself from Ron's arms. "But Ronald and I would be happy to help."
"Oh, thank-you dear," Molly said still grinning and looking back and forth between the two knowingly. With a small wink at Ron she turned and descended the steps.
When she was out of ear shot Ron rolled his eyes and banged his head back against the wall. "Great... now Mum thinks we're together," he said irritated.
"At least she didn't come up here two minutes ago," Hermione replied darkly. Ron nodded grimly in agreement.
"I am sorry about that, you know," he said sheepishly. Hermione shook her head.
"It's fine Ron. Let's just forget that it happened, yeah?"
"Okay," he answered with small smile. He looked at the bedroom door once more as Hermione started down the stairs. "And what about them? How do they end up, Trelawney?” he asked playfully. Hermione paused and looked over her shoulder at the door. She sniffed.
“They’re easy. Harry’s going to kick You-Know-Who’s arse and then they live happily-ever-after.” With that she tossed her uncharmed hair over her shoulder and flounced down the steps. Ron grinned and followed after her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione stood at the edge of the field and held up the copy of the photograph she had taken a few days before. This was the spot. The small clearing within the tall grass of the field was perfect for what she had in mind. She placed the picture back in her pocket and removed her wand. She swiveled her head and squinted in all directions and when she was sure the coast was clear, she began to cast.
Walking in a large circle to encompass the area, Hermione placed her wards. She cast one to disillusion anyone standing within the space to anyone but her. She placed another that would alert her when a human entered the circle. Her locket was spelled to heat-up when the wards were activated.
Her work complete, Hermione smiled at the space and then quickly trudged back up to the house to find Ron waiting for her near the back steps.
“Done doing whatever it is I’m not allowed to ask about?” he asked dryly but with a smile as he held out a broom to her.
“Yes,” Hermione replied snatching the offered broom from him. She wrinkled her nose at it.
In the days following Harry’s arrival things seemed to be looking-up. The tension with Ron had all but disappeared and he was once again the happy albeit mannerless friend she remembered from her past. And Harry and Ginny were inseparable.
The four of them had spent the days talking about everything from their O.W.L. results (which they had received the same morning Harry had come), to how Harry was dealing with Sirius’s passing, to Dumbledore’s visit with him and his little adventure to persuade Professor Slughorn to return to Hogwarts. It had been difficult for Hermione to try and sound like this was her first time hearing it all, but otherwise she was glad for the distraction. She was really missing Draco.
Hermione knew he wouldn’t be free for at least three days after the Marking. He’d explained the whole process to her back in their room at Hogwarts. But now that it was the third day, she was getting anxious. She hoped her plan would work.
Hermione looked at Ron then and clasped both hands around the broom as he grabbed his own. They had come to an arrangement the previous day. Ron agreed to cover for her when she needed time with Mr. Perfect, and in exchange Hermione agreed to learn and play Quidditch with him whenever he wanted. As Hermione mounted her broom she began to wonder who got the better end of the deal. She reluctantly pushed-off from the ground and bent against the broom and clung to the handle for dear life. Ron flew up beside her.
He laughed as she grimaced uneasily. “You are so bloody brilliant at everything you do except this. I don't understand why you don't trust yourself on a broom. It's only up to you if you fly it safely or not, you know," he said sagely.
Hermione gaped at him for a moment. She wasn't sure what she was more surprised at: the fact that Ron had such a useful insight or that she had never realized it before herself. Why was she so terrified of flying? She had good reflexes, she had a wand, she had excellent eye-hand coordination… She could do this.
With a look of quiet determination, she relaxed her hold on the broom and straightened to match the same sitting position Ron was in on his broom. She looked to him inquiringly to see him grinning.
"I'll make a Chaser outta you yet, Mione," he smirked.
"Yes, I cannot wait to try out for the Gryffindor team," Hermione quipped sarcastically.
"I wouldn't mind seeing you in a uniform," he said raising his eyebrows at her.
"Neither would Mr. Perfect," she sighed. Ron flew back to the ground to retrieve a quaffle and then came back up to hover just before Hermione.
"Well then, let's get to work," he said authoritatively and he tossed her the ball.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“This is what you call protecting him?” Narcissa scolded as she cradled her son’s head while Snape carried his limp body through the halls of Malfoy Manor.
“He’s merely drunk, Narcissa,” Snape answered calmly as he shifted Draco’s weight in his arms. “If you’re seeking someone to blame, I’d look to your sister. She’s the one that bound him to that ghastly excuse for a celebration.”
Narcissa creased her brow and gently cupped her son’s bruised face as she took small swift steps to keep up with Snape’s long strides. “I’ve never known Firewhiskey to cause such bruising,” she replied scathingly.
“It was necessary to keep him safe. If I hadn’t done it, then ten others would have tried instead,” he snapped at her. She frowned, but didn’t reply further as they came to Draco’s bedroom.
Carefully letting go of Draco’s head, Narcissa opened the door and then hurried into the room. Snape came in after and strode to the bed. He lowered Draco onto it slowly. A low groan escaped the young blonde as he came into contact with the mattress, and he blinked two bleary gray, bloodshot eyes up at Snape.
“Wha…Where?” he rasped.
“You’re home, love,” his mother cooed hovering over the edge of the bed and stroking his messy hair. Draco tried to sit up, but fell back against the bed. His body ached and his head was pounding. The world was tilting…or was he tilting? He tried to focus on something and felt his stomach flip. Draco let his head fall over the side of the bed and he hurled.
“For Merlin’s sake, Severus! Does he even have a liver left to heal?” Narcissa cried as she waved her wand to vanish the sick at her feet. Snape merely pulled several potion vials from his pocket and placed them on the nightstand.
“Drink this,” he commanded as he pulled the cork from the first bottle and thrust it at Draco. Draco raised a shaky hand and took the small bottle from Snape. He downed it quickly and gagged. Narcissa clamped her hand over his mouth to prevent him from vomiting again and after a moment Draco relaxed considerably.
Snape uncorked the next vial and handed it to Draco who now drank it with ease. When he had swallowed the contents, he sat up cautiously. The pounding had ceased, and his stomach had settled. But his body still hurt.
“Better?” Snape asked flatly.
“I feel like I was trampled by an Erumpent,” he replied wryly.
“Several dozen bottles of Firewhiskey will do that,” Snape answered reproachfully. He set several more small bottles on the nightstand. “Take the rest of these and then get some sleep.” Snape gave Draco a final evaluative stare and then exited the room.
Narcissa stroked her son’s face and pushed his hair behind his ear. “Severus and I will be in the sitting room should you need us,” she said softly. She kissed him gently on the cheek and then stood. “Get some rest now.”
When she had closed the door quietly behind her, Draco slid off the bed. He definitely wanted to sleep, but there was one thing he wanted to do more. He crawled into his bathroom and opened the linen closet. He pulled his wand from his pocket and removed the secret tile from the floor. Wincing slightly he retrieved the velvet bag that contained his mirror and then sat back against the sink cabinet.
Draco removed the mirror from its bag and stared at it. It was not black, but it did not show Hermione’s beautiful face either. Greeting him from the mirror’s surface was a picture of a small clearing within a field of tall grass blowing in a light breeze. In the upper corner of the picture was Hermione’s perfect writing: “When you’re ready…”
He smiled at her cleverness but leaned his heavy head against the sink. “Sorry, love,” he said out loud, “but it won’t be tonight.”

~~~~~~~
Additional A/N: quotes in bold borrowed from Half-Blood Prince chapter five: An Excess of Phlegm
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Songs of Regret