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Old 07-19-2011, 05:47 PM   #105 (permalink)
steflegan
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Join Date: Feb 2011
Location: Orlando, FL
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Hogwarts RPG Name:
Melina Morninglory- "Glory"
Second Year

Ministry RPG Name:
Violet Downing
Minister's Office
Ravenclaw
WizWorld Universal / Tom Felton for President

Chapter 32: Actions and Reactions



Silence filled the room. The adults looked at each other, incredulity painted on their faces. Slowly, they turned, one by one, toward Draco. He’d stopped crying when Hermione had spoken, and was simply staring at her now with gratitude and tenderness. The adults didn’t know how to make heads or tails of the scene in front of them. Molly spoke up first.

“Hermione, you said that he saved your life. Is that what you meant to say?” she asked slowly.

Hermione had sunk back into the sofa, sweat beading on her forehead. “Yes, yes. Don’t hurt him. Please. Draco?” She reached out to him.

Not caring about anyone’s reaction, Draco moved swiftly to her side and took her hand in his. “I’m right here. I’m not going to leave you, remember?” he said softly. His gentleness was shocking- he was a living, breathing contradiction of himself, and the adults simply stared in disbelief at the scene in front of them. Draco tore his eyes from Hermione and faced Molly. “Please, Mrs. Weasley. Just help her- it’s all that matters.”

Molly nodded slowly, and then pulled herself out of the parallel universe she was experiencing in the room. The men in the room averted their eyes as Hermione lay back in her bra, fresh bruises and barely-healed gashes covering her torso. Jean’s eyes went wide and she gasped loudly, her hands clapping over her mouth. Her tears spilled over again. “Oh, my baby, my baby girl,” she cried as she kissed her daughter’s head and ran her hands through Hermione’s hair. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed. Hermione had turned over her arm, and Bellatrix’s freshly-carved slur stood out bright red against her pale skin.

Jean’s eyes were full of tears, and as she looked at Molly she saw that the woman was crying outright. “I can’t believe this,” Molly whispered, shaking her head at such an act of cruelty. Jean was on the verge of fainting, but held on with all her will. She could not leave her little girl, not for a moment. Hermione was so busy staring at her mother and Molly that she barely noticed the tears streaming down her own cheeks.

Tom let out a strangled cry as he took in Hermione’s image. He struggled again in Remus’s hold. “Baby, if he did this to you, you have to tell us,” he said, his blood pressure rising. Hermione looked at Draco and saw the desperation in his eyes. “No Daddy, he never hurt me,” she lied. “It was all Bellatrix. She did this.”

“I’m going to kill this woman,” her father growled, his eyes welling up again. “Let me go- I need to be with my daughter!” Remus released him, and he rushed to put an arm around both his wife and daughter. He eyed Draco warily, wanting to believe that this boy whom no one seemed to trust was really Hermione’s savior. He didn’t care, though, not right then. Not while his little girl was hurting.

Molly was busy assessing Hermione’s wounds, carefully applying healing balm on the bruises and inspecting the cuts for infection. She cleaned the gash on Hermione’s side with the water and towel, narrowing her eyes at the condition of the wound. “Has it been bleeding like this the whole time? Did you use anything on it?”

Draco nodded his head. “I used Dittany, and a healing spell. I don’t know much about healing things like that. But it just wouldn’t close.” He looked at Molly in earnest and realized what she suspected.

“This wound was made with a cursed blade; that’s why it isn’t healing properly. Draco, get Dumbledore right away.” Draco practically ran to the other room.

****

Ron was pacing. He couldn’t sit; fear and anger kept him moving. “I can’t just stay here!” he shouted. “I’ve got to go see her!”

The rest of the teens were sitting anxiously at the kitchen table, Dumbledore at the head. “Not yet, Ron. We have to let your mother attend to her, and any disturbance could be detrimental to Hermione’s condition. I know that this is maddening, having to wait. But it is necessary,” the old wizard explained kindly.

“But he’s in there with her!” Ron burst out, slamming his fist on the table. “He gets to stay with her while we’re shut up in here! What the hell?!”

Ginny tentatively spoke up, though she knew this wasn’t the time for Ron to hear what she had to say. “But he did bring her here. You saw him; he brought her here to help her. If it wasn’t for him, she might not have made it.”

That's a load of crap!! If it wasn’t for him,” spat Ron, “she wouldn’t be hurt in the first place!! I’m gonna kill him, I swear. I’m going to tear him apart!”

Harry sat at the table, rubbing his temples in agitation. “It doesn’t make sense. Surely you can see that, Professor. It’s Malfoy! You know how he’s treated Hermione! Worse than the rest of us! This has to be an act of some sort, there has to be a… a hidden reason that he’s here. What if he put a spell on her? What if she’s Imperiused?”

“Hermione is not under the Imperius Curse,” explained the Professor. “And as for Draco, we can’t jump to any conclusions until he’s had a chance to explain himself. A true crisis can change people, for the worse, or the better.”

Ron was about to explode at that, but George cut him off. “But we’re talking about Malfoy here, not some random person. I don’t see him capable of changing.”

“Yeah, and I don’t see him helping Hermione unless there was something in it for him,” added Fred.

Ginny blurted out,” But do you think he’s really that good at acting?”

“He’s that good at lying,” chimed the twins.

“What the hell, Ginny? Are you taking his side?!” Ron stared at his sister furiously.

“No!” she retorted. “I’m just trying to figure it out, same as the rest of us.”

“What the bloody hell is there to figure out?! This is his fault, we all know it!” Ron shouted. “And I’m-”

A blonde head peeked cautiously into the room. He could hear the conversation as he approached the kitchen. It sounded like the Weaselette was defending him. Could this situation get any more bizarre? Draco was more than a little afraid of the Weasel, though, at the moment- was the ginger actually capable of the Killing Curse? He really didn’t want to push his luck.

“Uh, Professor? Mrs. Weasley needs you,” he said quietly. Everyone looked up.

YOU!!!” Ron sprinted around the table, not even bothering with his wand. No, he wanted to kill Malfoy with his bare hands. No one made a move to stop him.

Draco knew instinctively that pulling a wand right now would definitely get him killed. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact. Instead, he heard a thud, followed by a yelp. Opening his eyes, he saw Ron sitting on the floor with a look of surprise and outrage. It took a moment for everyone to piece together what had happened.

Dumbledore stood up. He’d cast a mild stunning spell. “Not now, Ron, and not this way. Now I want all of you to remain in this room, is that clear?” The teens timidly remained in their seats, Ron on the floor. The Professor followed Draco into the parlor.

“Um, thank you,” Draco stammered.

“Don’t mention it- at least not now,” Dumbledore replied, the tiniest of smiles playing at the corners of his mouth.

His look became one of concern when he saw Hermione. “What can I do?” he asked Molly.

“I believe this wound was made with a cursed blade. No attempt to heal it has worked,” she replied anxiously.

Dumbledore knelt in front of Hermione and placed his hands just above her wound. “Yes, this wound has been cursed. It will never heal properly unless the curse is broken.”

Jean stared at him, frightened. “Can it be broken?” she asked.

“Fortunately, you have me in this house- so the answer is yes. I can break the curse,” smiled the old wizard. He now placed his hands directly on the still-bleeding gash. Hermione winced at his touch. “I must apologize, Hermione, but it will all be better in a moment.”

Dumbledore closed his eyes and uttered an incantation so softly that none could make it out. His hands began to glow faintly, and that glow seemed to transfer from his hands directly into Hermione’s wound. She gave a small whimper of pain, and then her whole face relaxed. Dumbledore removed his hands and pulled out his wand, siphoning off the remaining blood and leaving her skin clean and unmarked.

The adults in the room looked on in wonder, the Order members smiling in awe of the man. He never ceased to amaze, did he? Molly finished wrapping up the large bumps on Hermione’s head and began tending to her wrists and ankles, placing healing balm on the abrasions she’d gotten from her restraints in the dungeon.

Molly turned to her friends. “I have to examine the rest of Hermione for any wounds. I’ll need the men to please step out of the room. Arthur, could you please send Ginny in?” Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair, dark pink replacing the anemic pallor of her face. She closed her eyes and turned her head away in embarrassment. As the men exited, Molly caught Draco’s arm. Quietly but firmly she whispered, “Is there anything I need to know?”

Now it was Draco’s turn to blush. “N-no,” he mumbled, “nothing.”

Molly looked him in the eyes. “Because now would be the time to tell me.” Draco snatched his arm out of her grasp.

I didn’t touch her!” he whispered harshly, his eyes flashing.

Molly relented, her features softening. Against a part of herself that argued differently, she patted Draco’s arm gently. “I believe you,” she said, giving his arm a small, reassuring squeeze.

Draco visibly relaxed. “Thank you,” he replied simply, though his eyes misted over.

Molly turned away and began helping Hermione out of her sweatpants as Draco left the room. Coming to the hallway, Tom stopped him and blocked his path. Draco’s guard immediately went up, and he looked at Hermione’s father.

Before Tom could speak, Draco blurted out, “We were enemies all through school- that’s why no one trusts me. And my family has an ugly reputation. But I changed, I changed when I saw her being hurt. It was beyond words what my family did to her. I couldn’t let them hurt her anymore. I saw her for who she truly is, and I had to save her. I’ve been a selfish, arrogant coward my whole life, but I swear to you that I would have lost my life today if it meant that she was safe.” He was shaking by the time he finished talking, and tears threatened to spill for the third time that day.

Tom exhaled deeply, not knowing how to react to this paradox of a boy. He knew Draco’s name, heard Hermione spouting off about him all the time. How she cried when telling him and her mother about the nasty name he called her. The one that was carved into her arm. The boy’s name was never spoken without frustration and anger accompanying it. But here stood that boy, pleading with everyone to save her, imploring Tom to believe that he had changed- that he actually cared about her.

Tom’s shoulders sagged, and he looked at Draco thoughtfully. “If you’re lying to me, I will find out and you’ll be sorrier than you can imagine. If you’re telling the truth, you’ll have my utmost thanks and gratitude for saving my little girl’s life. I pray for all of us that you’re telling the truth.”

Draco nodded in relief and moved down the hallway as Tom let him pass. He sat on the steps leading to the upstairs. For the first time, he felt the exhaustion of his last 24 hours. He crossed his arms in his lap and rested his head on them. The past few days had sapped every ounce of strength he had.

Remus saw the boy sitting, nearly asleep, and went over to him. “You look tired,” he said.

“You have no idea,” replied Draco. “The past three days have nearly killed me,” he admitted.

Remus found himself taking pity on the boy. He put his hand on Draco’s shoulder. “You still have a lot of explaining to do, but not until you’ve had some proper rest. Whatever your story is, the fact remains that you brought Hermione to safety. That part will not be forgotten.” The boy looked up at him gratefully, wearily. “Come,” said Remus, “let’s get you to a room.” With that, he led Draco to one of the upstairs bedrooms, closed the door and stood outside it, guarding just in case.

Draco was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

****

“Ginny dear, I need you to reheat this water.” Molly pointed to the bowl and Ginny pulled out her wand, dipping it in the water and warming it up. She looked at her friend and her tears overwhelmed her. The bruises, the cuts- Merlin’s beard, what did she go through? Then she saw the word on Hermione’s arm. She cried out in anguish and fury, and put her hands over her face and wept.

Hermione saw her friend’s reaction and reached out to her. “I know it’s horrible. They’ll fix it. Please, I’m going to be fine, Ginny, your mum said so. Though I will say I currently feel like I’ve been run over by the Hogwarts Express.” Hermione smiled weakly as she felt her mother’s hands stroking her hair. Ginny stopped her tears but had gone white in the face.

Molly stroked her own daughter’s hair. “Hermione is going to be fine, with a lot of time for mending and resting. Thank heavens she got here when she did!” She turned her attention back to Hermione. “Now sweetheart, perhaps you didn’t want to say anything in front of the men, but you need to tell me if Draco hurt you in any way. There are potions I’ll have to administer if he did.”

Hermione huffed in irritation. “Merlin’s beard! How many times do we have to tell you? He didn’t touch me. He saved me. I know it’s impossible to believe but it’s true. He’s different now. I watched him change. If it wasn’t for him, I would most certainly be dead right now.”

A cry hitched in Jean’s throat. She didn’t want to hear anything about Hermione and death in the same sentence. “Ok baby, we believe you. Don’t rile yourself up; you need to rest, honey.” Hermione lay back and calmed down, panting heavily with the energy she’d expended. Molly finished her examination and helped Hermione back into her clothes, after mending the rest of the cuts and bruises she’d found.

“He didn’t hurt you, I can see that,” she said kindly. “I’m sorry, dear, but you can understand why it’s hard for us to believe.”

“I know,” said Hermione. “I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t witnessed it with my own eyes, or experienced it myself. But you just don’t know; he gave up his family for me. He gave up his own family… for me.”

The women were speechless. Ginny’s mouth hung open. Jean finally found her voice. “I… I don’t know what to say. Then we owe him everything. But you need to rest now- you can tell us more after you’ve gotten some sleep.”

Hermione nodded, her eyes closing of their own will. In a moment, she was fast asleep.

Last edited by steflegan; 07-27-2011 at 02:59 PM. Reason: Numbered my chapter incorrectly! :P
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