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Afraid of the Dark	By : Draconis-Silver Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 5710 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters mentioned herein. I make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
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Draco was sat behind his office desk, nursing a black coffee, when the bright, glowing mist of the Ocicat bounded through his office. He jumped from his chair as he heard the muffled sobs of his wife and child through the Patronus. Fear for his family tore through his heart as Scorpius' cries resounded through the room.

The cat dissolved into thin air as Draco grabbed his wand and Disapparated with a whispered crack.

Landing swiftly in his lounge, he found the room completely dark. Lighting his wand, he slowly pulled the door of his lounge open, revealing an equally dark hallway. Only, as he glanced upwards towards the stairs, he could see light leaking from the hallway above.

Draco could no longer hear his child's cries, so he took that as a good thing. He steadily made his way upstairs and into his son's nursery and he was suddenly overcome by a strong smell of Ogden's Finest and men's aftershave. His stomach lurched as he approached his son's cot. He breathed a sigh of relief, seeing his son sleeping and unharmed.

But where had that smell come from? He'd drank enough of the stuff to know that the more inebriated the drinker, the more repugnant the smell became. Hermione never drank. Ever.

That meant only one thing. Hermione was on her own with an extremely reckless, drunk man.

Suddenly, he heard a loud thud coming from his marital bedroom, along with a string of curse words, sounding extremely familiar. Draco's heart lurched, fearing the worst.

Where was Hermione?

As he made his way silently towards their room, he observed his surroundings. He noticed a family portrait hanging precariously from the wall, his miniature barely managing to keep his wife and child in the confines of the frame, his arms straining with the effort. Draco quickly righted the portrait, his double quickly letting out a sigh of relief. Suddenly, the painting Draco lifted his arm, pointing towards the master bedroom with a grave look on his face before holding his sobbing wife.

If that didn't confirm his suspicions, he didn't know what did.

Draco gulped, padding silently across the carpeted floor of his hallway, stiffly approaching the open door. He inched his way through the gap, meeting a sight that almost killed him.

Hermione was unconscious, her chest rising and falling unsteadily, indicating that she was barely alive. He looked around his room, his eyes locking on the back of Weasley's head, who was looking out of the window, a lit cigarette in his hands.

Draco saw red.

With all the stealth of a big cat hunting it's prey, Draco approached Weasley, his eyes narrowing as he drew closer, his wand level with Weasley's shoulders. As the inches between them decreased, Draco raised his wand and slowly pressed it to Weasley's neck.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't tear you to pieces, you sick bastard." Draco growled, barely managing to restrain himself, digging his wand painfully into Weasley's skin

He saw the corners of Weasley's lips twitch as he slowly turned to face Draco, a smug grin twisting his features.

"Do it, Ferret." Ron spat. "I'd die happily knowing you were finally rotting away in Azkaban where you belong, pining away for your Mudblood whore of a wife and filthy Death Eater spawn."

Draco snapped, forgetting his wand, and delivered a swift left hook to Weasley's jaw, the sound of bones shattering echoing through the room. Ron staggered backwards, holding his now dislocated jaw, his eyes narrowed venomously. Draco looked down at his left hand, allowing himself a grim smile at the grazed knuckles.

"You bastard."

Ron quickly withdrew his wand, clumsily throwing a quick stunner at Draco, who deflected it with ease, firing back a Body-Bind curse at the redhead.

Draco ducked to the floor as his curse missed Weasley, who had dodged just in time, and shattered a tall antique china vase, the shards ricocheting off the wall of his bedroom. He managed to escape the flying pieces of china, however, Weasley wasn't so lucky as he let out a pained cry, a large piece embedded into his side.

Wincing, he quickly pulled it out before struggling to his feet. Draco, seeing his opportunity before him, barrelled into Weasley, knocking him back to the floor.

Now straddling the redhead, Draco didn't hold back, laying into the bastard with all the power he could muster, his hands protesting with each punch he threw at Weasley's face, which was quickly becoming unrecognisable as it swelled. The fact that all this damage was caused by Draco's fist, and not his wand, left him feeling immensely satisfied.

"I'll fucking kill you! You sick fuck!" Draco screamed, his knuckles smashing into Weasley's nose, earning a loud crack and a cry of pain from the man below him.

Before Draco could land another on Weasley, he felt his arm jerk to the side, his shoulder joint protesting to the point of excruciating pain as he was thrown off the other man, landing on his side.

Draco cried out as he felt a sharp kick to his ribs, spluttering helplessly as he struggled to catch his breath. Ron was now above him, smirking.

"I'm going to enjoy this," he spat, blood spraying down onto Draco's face. "I'm going to make you beg for death, you vile Death Eater scum. And then, when I'm through with you, I'm going to kill that little bastard in the cot, ending your pathetic line for good.

"Hermione will be distraught, of course," he sneered down at Draco, who was slowly inching his way towards his discarded wand. "But I'll be there for her, because in the end, she'll realise she loved me all along. You are nothing, Malfoy. Nothing. You can sit behind your precious desk at St. Mungo's and preach to everyone about how 'reformed' you are, but deep down you'll always be the same cowardly, bigoted, power hungry Death Eater."

Draco glanced towards Hermione's body as Weasley ranted, his eyes welling up with tears as he saw her shallow breathing, barely hanging on. Pulling his watery eyes away, he focused on summoning his wand. He'd never been skilled at wandless magic, but hell, he needed this to work.

Shutting his eyes, he focused all his magical energy on his summoning spell. As he opened his eyes, he could see his wand shaking, almost struggling to move before it flew through the air, landing in his palm.

Draco thanked all the Deities as he rolled onto his front, the spell rolling off his tongue,

"Petrificus Totallus!"

He watched as Weasley's eyes widened before he went rigid. He tipped precariously for a few seconds before falling backwards with a loud thud.

Draco quickly got to his feet, leering over Weasley. "Rule number one of fighting, Weasley: Don't waste time with all that talking bollocks, that's where Voldemort royally cocked up."

Stepping over Weasley's stiff form, Draco rushed over to his wife. Kneeling down beside her, he checked over her injuries. Angry purple bruises were dotted around her neck, indicating that she had almost been strangled to death not half an hour ago. Draco sniffed back his tears, surveying her body for various other injuries before his hands caught on the silk of her gown, pulling it up from beneath her to see it torn on either side.

Draco didn't want to believe it, shaking his head angrily as he turned her onto her front. "No, no, no," he murmured repeatedly, his throat constricting at the thought of his wife being beaten so intimately.

Draco cried out as he saw a clean year through her nightgown, her underwear nowhere to be found. His tears flowed freely, then, his heart in agony. He saw bruises on her hips and thighs, marring her beautiful porcelain skin. Gently, he pried open her thighs, sobbing as he saw blood pooled beneath her.

"Oh, God. No," he cried painfully. "My baby, God, my beautiful baby." Draco pulled her into his arms, rocking back and forth, his tears rolling down his cheeks and down into Hermione's brown tresses.

Hermione's eyes fluttered, the sound of her husband's anguished sobs pulling her from the darkness. Her throat ached from Ron's hands squeezing down to within an inch of her life.

"Draco," she rasped out, her throat burning.

Draco's head shot up at the sound of Hermione's faint voice, "Hermione?" He lay her back in his arms, cradling her head on his elbow. "Oh, Merlin, Hermione." He wept, kissing his beautiful wife's forehead.

"Draco?"

"I'm here, Princess. Shh, I'm here. It's going to be okay," he whispered soothingly, his right hand stroking wet curls away from her tear-stained face.

"Draco?" She repeated, her throat burning from the effort.

"What is it, Princess?"

Hermione could feel her vision going hazy, the darkness creeping in. She took several deep breaths before whispering,

"Get Harry."
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Afraid of the Dark