-run's round like a headless chicken-

NO DRACO! BAD DRACO! BAD BAD BAD DRACO! VERY BAD DRACO!

PAMS! NOW!

Hey, fabulous readers!!

I've made some changes to my previous chapters. First of all, I've changed the font and color- my friend said it was easier to read this way.

Second, I've done some re-writes. Some chapters have minor ones, but others (I think at least Chapters 2 and 5) have some major changes for clarity and just overall better storytelling. (Chapter 2 got a little steamier at the end as well- heh heh).

If you want to go back and check out the new stuff please do! Just look at the "reason for editing" footnote after each chapter: it will tell you if the chapter has a minor or major re-write.

As always, I am so grateful that all of you are taking this journey with me. It means the world.

Feel free to post responses to the chapters at any time- Hera and Ruby85 know I do a huge happy dance when I read theirs! (thanks, you two!)

New chapter going up today, peeps!!

:

The Order of the Phoenix meets at their headquarters to help the Grangers.

Back to Hermione and Draco in the next chapter.


Chapter Twenty: The Order of the Phoenix

An owl was sent immediately to Dumbledore. “Fly fast, Orion,” said Hagrid as he tied the parchment to its leg. He then promptly apparated to the Burrow. In his haste and preoccupation, he forgot to apparate onto the front yard and instead arrived with a loud pop in the middle of the Weasleys’ kitchen.

********

Molly was busy at the sink and jumped nearly a foot in the air. “FRED! GEORGE! That is the LAST time either of you- OH!!” She jumped again. “Sorry, Molly- didn’ mean tah land in the kitchen.” Molly expelled her breath in a great woosh. “Hagrid-goodness! It’s all right, all right. What’s the matter, dear? Can I get you something to eat?” Hagrid shook his head. “No thanks, Molly. I, uh, need tah talk to ya.” At that moment, the house shook as five pairs of feet thundered down the stairs. “Hagrid?” “Is that Hagrid?” Ron, the twins, Ginny and Harry rounded the corner into the kitchen. “Hagrid, what are you doing here?” said Harry, hugging him around the waist. His smile faded quickly when he saw the grave look on his friend’s face. “Hagrid,” he said slowly, “What’s the matter?”

*******

Albus Dumbledore stroked Orion’s feathers as he removed the parchment from the owl’s leg. The bird stumbled backward with a squawk as Dumbledore abruptly leapt from his desk and hurried to his fireplace. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped inside. “Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!” he announced, and was gone in a flash of green fire.

*******

Molly and the children stared anxiously at Hagrid, who was now looking at his feet in an attempt to stall until he thought of something to say. “Hagrid,” Molly said softly, placing a hand on his forearm, “What’s happened? Is everyone all right?” She glanced quickly at the family clock- Arthur’s picture was under “Traveling”, not “Mortal Peril” to her great relief; Percy, Bill, and Charlie were safe as well. “Uh, Molly, we need tah discuss somethin’ in private- Order business.” At once, Harry and the Weasley children protested simultaneously. “Private?” “Why?” Tell us what’s happened!” “We want to know!” Molly silenced them, “Now now, that’s enough out of all of you. Out! Out!” She shooed them all outside. “And don’t try listening in, as I’ll have put up a silencing charm on the whole house!”

*******

Dumbledore sat at the table in the kitchen of the ancient house of the Black family. Within minutes, Remus Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt apparated or blazed into the floo. In their hands were the Protean-charmed coins that alerted them to Dumbledore’s call. Tonks stepped out of the fireplace with Lupin. “What’s happened?” she asked, concern coating her normally bright voice. As they all sat down, Dumbledore spoke: “I have serious news: earlier today, Hermione Granger was abducted by Snatchers in Diagon Alley.” Tonks gasped and her hand flew to her mouth; Lupin and Kingsley exchanged an alarmed look and Mad-Eye cursed loudly. “What else do we know?” he growled. “Very little yet, I’m afraid,” sighed Dumbledore. “Tom and Jean Granger are with Arthur at the Ministry hoping for more information, and Hagrid is currently informing Molly at the Burrow.” “This is no simple Snatcher case, we all know that much,” spat Moody. “We can set up a search immediately,” commented Lupin, “just tell us how you would like to divide the area.” “Let’s plan that approach while we wait for the rest to arrive,” the old wizard said in earnest.

About an hour later, Tom’s car arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place and he, Jean, and Arthur hurried inside the Order headquarters. “Molly darling,” said Arthur as he held his wife in a tight embrace. “Arthur-thank Merlin you’re all right! The children are all upstairs- we got here not much before you.” She kissed him quickly and hugged him again. She walked right over to Jean and put her arms around her. “Jean, we’ll find her- not to worry, we’ll have her back here in no time. And she’s a clever young lady; she’ll keep a cool head.” Jean sobbed in her arms. “I just want her back, Molly. I just want her safe.”

“Who’s that?” Ginny frowned, looking out the window at the silver Jaguar parked in front of the house. Harry pressed his face to the glass. “That looks like Hermione’s dad’s car,” said Harry, his brow furrowed in thought. “Hermione?” said Ron. “You think she’s here?”

He strode to the door and opened it, stealthily leading them all to the upstairs railing. Carefully, they peeked over. No one was in the hall and the door to the kitchen was already closed. They were just about to go back into the bedroom to puzzle out what was going on when a shrill beeping startled them. “What the bloody hell?” whispered Ron. “That’s a cell phone,” answered Harry, “a Muggle, uh- communication device.” “Muggle?” came the unified response of Fred and George.

They all ducked as the kitchen door opened. A woman walked quickly to her coat and retrieved the phone from its pocket. As she did, five heads slowly rose over the railing above her. The woman turned around and, for a moment, her tear-stained face was visible to them. Harry and Ron gave an audible gasp but the woman didn’t notice. She shut the kitchen door behind her and the others looked at Harry and Ron. “That was Hermione’s mum,” Harry whispered. “Well then, where’s Hermione?” replied Ginny. She realized the impact of her words as soon as they came out of her mouth . “Where is Hermione?” Ron spoke, his voice breaking on her name. They looked at each other, no one daring to say a word, and hurried back inside the bedroom to figure it out.

Oooo! Stop leaving us on cliff-hangers!

PAMS! I'm on my knees!

(Not literally, but you know what I meant.)

PAMS!
hehe Love the changes you made! Brilliant.

Can't wait to read more!

Eeep! I know, I'm horrible! *hangs head in shame, but cannot completely wipe smile off face*

I'm not trying to do it with every chappie, it just seems to keep happening!

I lurff your comments so much- you put me on the floor with your Bad, Bad Draco one. I laughed so hard! Thank you so much for encouraging me after each chapter; it totally makes my day!!!

The next chapter will begin the build-up to the turning point in the following, very intense chapters to come. Keep traveling along!

Thanks, sweetie! Can I just say that I was blushing when I re-wrote Chapter 2?! *buries head in hands, blushing again*

Glad you went back and read them!

I've got a few more chappies already written; I'll post the next one today and then space out the others over the next several days. It's about to get really intense- keep your fingers crossed for Draco! And pray for Hermione. And Avada Kedavra Bellatrix.

Love you with lovely love.

How does Draco handle his experience with the Cruciatus Curse? How is Hermione surviving? And why is Bellatrix so bleeping bizarre?

The chapter that starts off all the action to come!

Chapter Twenty-One: Pride and Purpose

Draco didn’t remember how he got back upstairs and into his bed. He grunted softly and tried to open his eyes but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. He felt his mother fussing over him, brushing the hair from his forehead and propping him up on his pillow. As the fog in his head started to lift, he listened to the harsh whispers exchanged between his mother and his aunt.

“He’ll be fine, Cissy! Stop babying him! He was magnificent down there; none of us realized the kind of power he has.”

“That’s all well and good, Bella, but he also fainted down there- I think that’s enough use of his power for tonight.”

“Do you know what this means, Cissy? Once we perfect his skills he will be an extraordinary wizard . He can restore the Dark Lord’s favor to your family, and Lucius’s failure can be forgiven!”

“I know what it could mean, but only if Draco is protected. It will not be at his expense!”

“Oh, cut the cord, Cissy! He’s not a little boy anymore. At this rate, the Dark Lord will brand him before the month is out!”

Draco eyes snapped open. What, that soon? Everything was happening so fast. Too fast! He realized his mother was talking to him. “-you feeling, darling? You look pale.” He frowned at her: “I’m always pale.” His aunt chuckled. “See, he’s fine! Draco, tell your mother you’re fine.” “I’m fine.”

He sat up, but immediately felt the room start spinning and, with a groan, flopped back down. “Oh yes, quite fine,” his mother replied scathingly, “Now not another word.” She picked up a vial of sleeping draught that lay on his nightstand. She uncorked the vial and put it to his lips. “I can do it myself,” he snapped, harsher than he meant to. He took the vial from her hand and drank it down. “Thanks mum,” he said gently as he handed it back to her. The hurt on her face softened into a smile and she leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Sleep well, darling. We’ll talk in the morning.” The edges of his vision were darkening already as the women left his room, and in moments he was sound asleep.

******

Sometime in the middle of the night, she came to. Her head throbbed terribly and she felt stickiness on her neck. Her arms ached more than her head, if that was possible. The weight of her unconscious body had pulled hard on them as the shackles held her wrists to the wall. They were stretched to their limit and felt agonizingly close to snapping. She was surprised that her shoulders hadn’t popped out of their sockets, but was afraid that that one wrong move would make it happen.

She worked slowly, inch by inch, to move her feet under her. She needed to support her body and take the strain off her arms. After what felt like hours, she managed to plant her feet on the floor and push herself upwards a few inches. The motion set off a chain reaction of sharp pains throughout her body and she let out a loud cry. Her voice echoed off the cold stone walls, and she realized how alone she was. Why? she thought, as bitter tears ran down her face. Why me? What have I done to deserve this?

She prayed, prayed with all her might- for strength, for protection, for deliverance from this nightmare. She thought of her parents, her friends, all the things that were dear to her, and wondered if she’d ever see them again. It made her cry all the harder , but it also strengthened her resolve. She vowed that she would keep fighting to survive and to find a way back to everything she loved. Her effort sapped what little strength she had left and she passed out, exhaustion claiming her again.

*******

Draco awoke the next morning to breakfast in bed. Mimsy had brought up a tray of crepes, poached eggs and fresh fruit. He ate heartily, refreshed from his deep sleep. He sat back in his bed with a full stomach, and replayed the events of the previous evening. He remembered the mind-blowing feel of the power within him; it was better than flying full speed on his broom or getting high off of euphoria potion, even better than the best climax he’d ever had during sex. What did Aunt Bella say? An extraordinary wizard? I can’t wait to hear what Dad has to say! Not once did his victim cross his mind, he was so wrapped up in his accomplishment.

As if granting his wish, his father appeared in the doorway. He looked as though he would burst with pride. Draco stared at him, determined to commit to memory the look on his dad’s face. He smiled triumphantly as Lucius approached him. “There he is, my tremendously talented son! I wish you could have seen yourself last night, Draco. I am so proud of you.” Draco’s heart stopped. There they were, the words he had waited to hear for 16 years. He felt involuntary tears spring to his eyes and quickly looked down. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with emotion. “Thank you, Dad- I’ve only ever wanted to make you proud.” “Well you have, son,” Lucius put a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “I always knew you would.” Draco wanted to put a bubble around this moment, to freeze time, to bask in the glow of his father’s approval. He had done it- he was everything his father ever wanted him to be. He was finally worth something.

“Come, get dressed- you have more to learn from your aunt today.” Lucius gave his son’s shoulder a squeeze and then stood up and left the room. Draco threw back the covers and practically leapt out of bed. He put himself together and came to the dining room, striding in with his head held high. His mother was there; she looked tired, as though she hadn’t really slept. But his aunt was full of energy, fidgeting in her seat and looking as though she could barely contain herself.

She jumped up from her seat and put out her arms. “Draco, Draco, Draco- the family’s new star,” she drawled. She embraced him and then, without warning, kissed him full on the lips. Draco jerked backward reflexively, but she held him firmly for another moment. Finally letting go, she grinned at him as he took several steps back from her. She giggled and licked her lips. “All grown up now, darling,” she sing-songed. “Come along- we’ve lots of fun in store today.” She turned on her heel and walked toward the dungeon steps, leaving Draco frozen in place. Um, what the hell just happened? He looked slowly at his parents; Lucius rolled his eyes and Narcissa put her head in her hands. Still in shock, and more than a little grossed out, Draco followed his aunt down the steps without a word.

Disclaimer: Some of the following themes in this chapter have been borrowed from her majesty JK Rowling and his royal highness David Yates.


Chapter Twenty-Two: A Crack in the Wall


4 Jan. (morning)

Bellatrix slammed open the interrogation room door, startling Hermione awake. “Good morning, Mudblood!” sang Bellatrix, “time to wake up! I have a full day planned! Let’s get started, shall we?” Hermione’s blood froze. “Please, please,” she begged, “I can’t do this. Please let me go.” She began to weep with the heartbreaking cry of a frightened little girl.

The crying grabbed Draco’s attention and darkened his otherwise sunny mood. Bellatrix had been standing between him and Hermione but now she moved, offering him his first glance at her. Her appearance stunned him: large purple bruises covered her cheeks and her lip was split in two places. The back of her hair was matted with dried blood, and blood had stained her neck. Her arms were twisted unnaturally and her face was a terrible mixture of fear and pain. He hardly recognized her. Merlin-did I do that? Her gaze met his and he felt his heart leap into his throat. The look in her eyes triggered a small tremor around his heart, loosening the stones in the wall that surrounded it. He tore his eyes away and looked around the room at anything except her.

Bellatrix pointed her wand at Hermione’s shackles and they sprang open, dropping her unexpectedly. Hermione cried out in pain as the muscles in her arms cramped sharply. “Get up, mudblood,” Bellatrix snarled. When Hermione was too weak to comply, she cast a spell that forced her into a standing position. “Our first game today is called: how many times can a Mudblood scream before she passes out?” She laughed wickedly as Hermione’s cries became ones of terror.

Bellatrix walked over and stood in front of her. Using her wand, she cut through Hermione’s sweater from neck to hem, splitting it open. She cut open the shoulders and sleeves as well and let the sweater fall to the floor. Hermione gasped in horror as she was exposed down to her bra. Bellatrix gave her an icy smile as she waved the wand again, pulling off her boots, socks, and jeans. Hermione stood there shaking, mortified, in only her underwear. She panicked, certain that Bellatrix meant to strip her completely. “No, no, PLEASE NO!!” she pleaded, the beginnings of hysteria seizing her. Bellatrix, however, left her in her underwear and levitated her over to the table in the middle of the room. She fastened her wrists and ankles to the corners of the table, and looked her over. “Sorry dear, but I need a little more flesh to work with,” she replied nonchalantly.

Bellatrix looked over at her nephew. Gesturing to Hermione, she said, “Before I begin, do you want a little piece of this? I’ll give you some privacy if you’d like.” She grinned wickedly. Hermione choked on her sobs- “Oh God, no…” Draco couldn’t help looking at her for the briefest of moments. He’d have been brain dead not to notice how lovely her body was.

But here, now, he was repulsed by the idea and was shocked that it wasn’t for any reason he’d have expected. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was a Mudblood, or even that she was Granger for God’s sake. It was because he could only imagine how humiliated she must feel. It was because she was so scared and he didn’t want to hurt her again. He shook his head, barely managing to blurt out a “no”. “Just as well,” replied his aunt, “I wouldn’t want to touch a mudblood either.”

He winced as a stronger tremor rocked the wall around his heart. The high he felt earlier was gone. The rose-colored fantasy he had enjoyed in the morning was shattered. He wanted to run back upstairs, back to the fantasy, away from the reality. But he knew he was as trapped there as the girl on the table.

Bellatrix unfastened the binding of Hermione’s left hand, holding her wrist tightly. “Come here, Draco- I need you to hold her arm still.” He stood, frozen to the floor. “Now, Draco!” Somehow he obeyed her; he was too afraid of what she’d do to him if he didn’t. His hands trembled as he took Hermione’s wrist and held it down on the surface of the table.

Hermione’s eyes had gone wild with fear- she was grunting hysterically as she tried to pull away from him. “Tightly, Draco!” commanded Bellatrix. He complied, pinning her arm firmly to the table and completely immobilizing it. He squeezed his eyes shut to hold back his own tears. He couldn’t watch.

Bellatrix held up a small, black and silver-handled dagger with a wickedly sharp blade. “You can tell a servant of the Dark Lord by the mark on his arm,” she said maliciously. “You’re going to have a mark to show the world just what you are.” She touched the tip of the blade to the inside of Hermione’s forearm, just below the crook of her elbow. Eyes gleaming with hate, she pushed the blade through Hermione’s skin. Blood immediately welled around the point of the knife, and Hermione screamed. Slowly Bellatrix began her work. Over and over she drew the knife through Hermione’s arm- a short cut here, a twist of the blade there, magically wiping the blood away when it obscured her view.

Hermione’s screams bounced off the walls; the knife burned like fire as it sliced through her skin and the relentless cutting tore at her sanity. But that wasn’t the worst part of the torture. No, the worst part was her utter helplessness. There was nothing she could do to stop it; she saw the knife coming at her and couldn’t move, couldn’t get away, couldn’t fight back. All she could do was lie there and take it.

While he restrained her, Draco tried desperately to block it all out, to pretend it wasn’t real. A warm, wet feeling against his hand wrenched him from his disbelief. Hermione’s blood had reached the side of his hand and was now dripping down his fingers. The feeling was a hard pinch back into reality, and Draco recoiled in horror. He stared at his hand and felt a pain in his chest as a hairline fracture appeared in the wall of his heart. Bellatrix finally lifted her knife and used her wand to siphon away the excess blood on Hermione’s arm. She grabbed the girl’s wrist and yanked up her arm, twisting it so that Hermione could see her forearm. “There, you filthy little tramp,” she spat, “now you’re properly branded!” Both Hermione and Draco gasped as they read the word carved into her flesh: Mudblood.

As Hermione wept bitterly, Draco backed away from the table. He knew his aunt was insane, criminally insane at that, but he’d never witnessed her torture a person, let alone participated in it. This is sick! he thought, She’s not even interrogating her! She’s just…torturing her.

His stomach turned over at the realization, and he suddenly imagined stupefying his aunt and shielding Hermione from any more attacks. The image stopped him in his tracks. What the hell?! He wasn’t making any sense: wasn’t he going to be an “extraordinary” dark wizard? Wasn’t he a hair’s breadth away from becoming a Death Eater? He couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t be this weak.

But as his gaze fell on Hermione, his humanity fought for control over his heart. She looks so vulnerable, so fragile. Why is she here? What did she do to deserve this? This is wrong, this is so wrong. I need to stop it! I need to…help her. A new feeling, one he’d never experienced before, hurtled at his wall like a bludger and left a sizeable crack. Empathy.

Draco finally gets a backbone and makes a decision for himself. But what exactly is that decision?


Chapter Twenty-Three: Turning Point

4 Jan. (evening)

The torture continued throughout the day, with Bellatrix only stopping for lunch. Draco’s fear, now mingled with anger, increased with each new wound she inflicted on Hermione; he also felt increasingly sickened each time he assisted her in doing so. When Bellatrix made a particularly gruesome cut across Hermione’s stomach he had to run out of the room and vomit.

At dinner, he sat at the table in the dining room and mindlessly pushed his food around his plate with his fork. His aunt sat across from him, contentedly munching on her salad. His mother’s face was strained and she looked as though she would burst if she didn’t say something soon. He was certain he looked like hell; though he had cleaned the blood off himself he still felt dirty. Not because of whose blood it was but because a second, new-found emotion had surfaced and pummeled him in the chest: shame. He was completely ashamed of what he’d done today.

Lucius was prattling on about “getting used to this sort of thing” and “necessary in times of war”, but Draco tuned him out. He didn’t want to hear a damned thing that justified what he’d done today.

Before today, activities like torture were just vague concepts to him; he knew that his family, and all Death Eaters, actively tortured and killed hundreds of people. But he’d never stopped to imagine their work in such disturbing detail, and it sent a shudder of revulsion down his spine. He was certain that what he saw with Hermione was barely the tip of the iceberg compared to their more extreme methods. He looked at his father and a thought occurred to him that nearly ripped him in two.

I finally have my father’s respect, what I’ve worked for my whole life. Becoming a Death Eater will finally bring him close to me- we’ll have the bond we should have always had. But, oh Merlin- I don’t think I can do it. I don’t…want it. Not this way. I can’t do what he does- I hate it, it makes me sick. But I can’t turn back now. Can I? If I do, I’ll lose him forever, maybe mum as well. I may not even survive; surely the Dark Lord won’t let a “traitorous” Malfoy live for long. What was it that Dumbledore used to say, something about choosing what is right vs. what is easy? Huh. Easy for him to say, the old prat. Merlin, please, what am I going to do? I’m so scared. And I’m so tired of being scared.

He lay in his bed that night, wide awake, after everyone else was asleep. An urge kept prickling in the back of his mind, nagging him like an irritating fly. He wanted to swat it away, but it was persistent. If he acted on it, he would no longer be straddling the choice between becoming a Death Eater and walking away. He would be making a definite move in one direction.

*******

Hermione lay bound to the table, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Earlier, Bellatrix had taken great pleasure in slowly snapping some of her ribs; she made Draco snap a few too. Her body was racked with pain, her mind traumatized. She started to believe she would not make it out alive. Her ribs tore painfully at her lungs as she broke down again in great, heaving sobs. She was amazed she still had any tears left.

She stifled a sob as the door to the room opened. She couldn’t make out who it was at first, but as he came nearer she realized it was Draco. She turned her head away from him, tears running down her face. “Please, no more,” she whispered pitifully. When he didn’t answer, she turned to face him. He was setting down some objects she couldn’t see, and when he turned around he had his wand in his hand. Her stomach clenched tightly. Has she sent him down to practice on me, or is he here on his own? She stared at him with weary eyes- she was too tired to beg for mercy. She shut her eyes and waited for the onslaught of pain.

She felt a sharp stab in her side and cried out, then another, and another. Tears leaked from her closed eyes; she didn’t even want to know what he was doing to her. More searing jolts of pain on her other side. Her hope was fading; there was no goodness left in the world, was there? But suddenly the pain stopped and she was surprised to find that she could breathe normally again. She opened her eyes, looking strangely at him, and slowly understood what had just happened. He had healed her ribs.

Her face was a mask of confusion as her eyes followed him to the foot of the table. He picked up a small bottle and opened it. He positioned the dropper over her deeper wounds and let a few drops of clear liquid fall. She winced as the liquid stung, but watched in disbelief as her wounds began to heal rapidly. Essence of Dittany, that’s what he’s using.

He set the bottle down and picked up a bowl of water and a small towel. He dipped the towel in the water and began to very gently wash the blood off her legs. He continued in the same manner with her hips and stomach, her arms and neck. He was extra careful not to touch her anywhere inappropriate. In all this time he didn’t say a word.

Silently, he brought the towel to her forehead and wiped away the dirt and blood. He carefully cleaned her face but never looked her in the eye. She lay there silently as well, too stunned by his simple act of…what was it…kindness? Malfoy? Kind? Those words didn’t fit in the same sentence. But as she watched his face, so concentrated on his task, and felt his hands tremble each time he touched the towel to her skin, she couldn’t deny that his actions were sincere and without a doubt… compassionate.

When he was finished, he quietly gathered up the supplies and headed for the door. She couldn’t let him leave like that. “Wait-Draco!” she managed to say. He stopped and cocked his head to the side, not turning around to face her. She suddenly realized she had no idea what to say and so she stammered a small, simple “Thank you.” He nodded his head almost imperceptibly and continued out the door.

EEEEeeeekkk yay! bout time Draco manned up!
Poor Hermione... I don't know how she doe it... such a brave brave brave person.
I couldnt do it.

.... so.. what happens next?
PAMS!

p.s. Congrats on getting sorted into the best house Ravenclaw!!!

HOOOOORAY!!! I'm in Ravenclaw, I'm in Ravenclaw!! *does super-energetic happy dance*

Glad you like these chapters! You know, I'm really a happy, bubbly person, so where all this dark stuff I'm writing about comes from is truly a mystery to me!
Hoping it's not too dark--- it's not, right? *shuts eyes and crosses fingers*

Yes, finally Draco mans up!! He'll continue to do so from now on, thank goodness. And holy cow, Hermione! She's a rock. I couldn't do it either.

The next three chapters get progressively more shocking and intense, but I felt it was necessary to give Draco a realistic process of discovering the really evil side of his family. It gives him the understandable motivation for the actions he takes. Does that make sense?

After those chappies the tone turns to just action and suspense- horrible dark stuff over! And after that, well, the end of the fic is just around the corner!

Hang in there with me for the next three chapters- it's going to be one nightmare of a journey! :0

Love you with lovingness that is lovely!

What can the Order do to rescue Hermione? Who will get the closest to saving her?

Gimme some feedback, peeps!

Chapter Twenty-Four: A Plan of Action


4 Jan. (evening)

Jean Granger sat at the table, completely overcome. She cried as only a heartbroken mother can for her lost child. Tom sat next to her with his arms cradling her and his head on her shoulder; his grief was quieter but no less potent. Arthur addressed the members of the Order. “Our worst fear has been realized. Hermione is not at the Ministry. Having taken into account the fact that she was taken through Knockturn Alley, it is my belief that she has been taken instead to one of You-Know-Who’s strongholds.” At his words, a terrified sob escaped Jean’s lips. The Order members were momentarily silent, save for Molly who uttered a sorrowful groan and put her head in her hands. Arthur squeezed his wife’s hand lovingly.

Mad-Eye broke the silence with a sharp pound on the table from his fist. “We haven’t a moment to spare then,” he barked. “We have to act and act now!” “All right,” said Arthur, “let’s list potential locations she may have been taken.” One by one, the members offered suggestions. “The Shrieking Shack.” “The old Gaunt Residence.” “Malfoy Manor.” “McClellan Manor.” Remus Lupin nodded his head. “I think those are the most likely places for her to have been taken.” “We’ll send scouts to each location to hopefully ascertain her whereabouts,” added Kingsley Shackleton. “Who wants to go where?”

“Reggie and I can take the Shrieking Shack,” offered Arthur. Tonks and Lupin chose the Gaunt Residence. Kingsley and Dumbledore agreed to spy out McClellan Manor. The most recently-arrived Order member then spoke up. “I will go to Malfoy Manor and discover what I can,” said Severus Snape. Molly turned to the Grangers. “I’ll be staying here with you and wait for word from the members,” she said kindly. “No!” exclaimed Jean. “No, I’m not staying here! I’m going with you-she’s my baby!” Dumbledore spoke softly to her. “I can appreciate your need to search for Hermione yourself, but it is simply too dangerous. You and Tom would be too vulnerable without the protection of magic. And how tragic it would be if Hermione is rescued only to find that one or both of her parents were harmed or killed.” Jean sighed in frustration and weariness and let her head drop into her arms on the table. Tom held her and nodded in pained agreement.

The Order set out immediately for their destinations. Molly took the Grangers to the sitting room, poured them each a large glass of brandy, and headed upstairs to check on the children. As soon as she opened the door, they pounced on her. Desperate for information, they peppered her with questions simultaneously. She wished she didn’t have to tell them, but they had a right to know.

***************

Severus Snape marched up the walkway of Malfoy Manor, casting a spell to pass through the iron gates as if they were mist. He entered the dining room and realized he was interrupting the Malfoy’s dinner. “Forgive me, my visit is necessary,” he said as Narcissa gestured for him to sit. “That’s perfectly fine, Severus,” replied Lucius. “Mimsy- bring our guest dinner.” Snape accepted, though he wasn’t hungry at all; he had to maintain a casual enough appearance right now. He took notice of each member at the table. Lucius seemed in good enough spirits; Bellatrix was as well, even though she glowered at him from across the table. Draco looked positively ill- Severus wondered why he wasn’t in his room resting. Narcissa looked tired and strained, an unusual appearance for her. She maintained an indulgent disposition, though, when she spoke to him. “Severus, it’s so good to see you. What brings you here tonight?”

He got right to the point. "The Order has been informed that a close friend of Harry Potter’s, Hermione Granger, has been abducted. At this, Draco choked on the ice water he was drinking. Lucius glared at him and kicked him under the table. Snape looked at him and then swept his gaze across the three adults. Bellatrix’s smile said all he needed to know. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and directed his question to her. “You look like the cat that caught the canary, Bella. Might you know something about the young Miss Granger, then?”

Her grin widened. “The little Mudblood is my guest right now. She’s a stubborn little cow, but she’ll be giving up everything she knows very soon.” Snape’s heart faltered at this news, but he’d had years of practice maintaining his façade of indifference. “Did they send you here?” inquired Lucius a bit crossly. “No,” replied Snape cooly, “I offered to come here. In this manner I can keep this house and all its inhabitants (he shot a pointed look at Bellatrix) away from prying eyes. The other Order members are searching several other locations. I can report back to them that the Malfoys do not know the whereabouts of Miss Granger nor did they have any hand in her abduction.”

Lucius sat back in his chair, satisfied with the answer. Snape cast a glance at Draco- the boy looked absolutely miserable. Snape made a mental note to speak to him later. “Would you mind if I stayed the night? The Order wishes a thorough investigation and I’d rather them think I was doing my job.” “Of course, Severus,” replied Narcissa. “You know that you are always welcome here.” Bellatrix promptly rolled her eyes and made a small retching noise in her throat.

Once everyone had gone to bed, Snape stole silently out of the guest room and made his way into the dungeons. He knew his way around them better than he wished, but tonight that would be an advantage. He couldn’t free her- that would blow his cover permanently, but he needed to see if she was still alive and devise a plan to rescue her. As he came nearer to the interrogation room he noticed that the door was ajar.

He moved without a whisper of sound and peered through the opening. Confusion marked his features as he watched the youngest Malfoy attend to Hermione’s wounds with a gentleness he’d never witnessed in the boy. His eyes widened as the boy took a towel and washed the dirt and blood from her body with trembling hands. Snape drew back into the shadows as the boy exited the room and heard a small voice from inside the room call out, “Thank you.”

Well I certainly never saw this coming, he muttered to himself. He ghosted his way back to the guest room, carefully pondering this critical new piece of information.

oohhh another fantastic post! I love Snape's p.o.v .... well I just love Snape full stop
Can't wait to read more!
PAMS!

You know, Snape wasn't in my original plot line. But he works perfectly here, though I'm still trying to figure out exactly what he's going to do in the coming chapters.

And I knew he was your favorite- it's a little shout-out to you.

The next chapter is yucky-hang in there with me!

Loooooong chapter, and a warning. If you're afraid of spiders, read on with caution! I'm like Ron X 1000 and yet I could write this yucky scene. Maybe it was cathartic?


Chapter Twenty-Five: Taking a Stand


5 Jan. (morning)

“Oh my God, what did I do?” he said out loud as he paced in his room. Draco was nervous, jumpy, as if he’d had a few too many caffeinated drinks. Surely his aunt would notice that Hermione had healed faster than nature allowed. She’d notice how clean she was, too. “What the was I thinking?!” he continued. Yes, he knew he’d done the right thing, but was he prepared for the repercussions? He threw himself in the shower, keeping the water uncomfortably cold just to ensure he didn’t hyperventilate and pass out.

Despite his panic, however, another feeling simmered just underneath. He couldn’t quite name it at first, but it felt good. Last night, he reclaimed something he hadn’t had for as long as he could remember. Control. Control of his own decisions, his own thoughts, his own convictions. His entire life had been controlled for him- by his family, his lineage, the Dark Lord, his blood status, by all the expectations placed on his overburdened young shoulders. It was why he bullied everyone at school; intimidating others was the only control he had. He didn’t want to be controlled anymore. Choosing his own path last night was oddly thrilling- amazing how fantastic it felt to make a stupid little decision like that, he mused. Of course he knew it wasn’t stupid at all, nor was it insignificant. He just wasn’t ready to admit how profoundly it had affected him.

He was also completely unprepared for the other feelings that were developing inside him. Caring for Hermione, building her up instead of tearing her down, wanting to protect her: so un-Malfoy, so very un-Death Eater. But it fulfilled a need within him he didn’t even know he had. Last night his heart had felt so warm, so big, as if it had grown a size larger. And he loved the feeling.

It was so strange; just the day before he had been blown away by the power he had summoned while casting the Cruciatus Curse. Now he felt a new kind of power growing, one he realized could actually surpass the other. For the first time, he understood how his mother could always make him feel safe even in the presence of his father. Her love was the most powerful thing he’d ever experienced, for it had kept him both sane and human through a childhood that could have, should have, destroyed him. And he knew without question- that was the kind of power he wanted. He wanted the power to shelter Hermione just as his mother did for him. He wasn’t going to participate in any more torture. Not on Hermione, not on anyone. He was done.

He found his father downstairs and pulled him aside. With more conviction than usual he said, “Dad, I’m not going to go down with Aunt Bella today. I’d rather work on my potions.” Lucius waved a dismissive hand. “You can do that anytime. You have more to learn from your aunt today.” OK, how to make this clearer? “No, Dad- I’m really not going down there today. I’ve seen enough and I don’t wish to see anymore.” There. Let’s see how this goes over.

Lucius’s face grew stern. “Has your mother been talking to you? This is not the time to crawl away like an infant because you’re not ‘comfortable’ with what you see. You’ll grow up and act like a man. Clearly you need more practice at getting your hands dirty. Now I suggest you get down those stairs; your aunt is already there.” Yep- about as well as I expected. OK, do I go suicidal and refuse one more time? “I’m not going.” He looked his father directly in the eye. Whoa- one pinch of control and I’m feelin’ reckless!

Lucius narrowed his eyes and leaned into Draco, planting his serpent cane in the familiar spot on his son’s chest. “Now you listen to me, boy,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “When you become a Death Eater, do you think you’ll be able to tell the Dark Lord ‘no’, that you ‘don’t want to’, when he gives you an order?” He pushed Draco back into the wall. “You have finally begun living up to your potential-don’t you dare disappoint me now! You’d better learn to obey commands immediately. Now get down those stairs before I take out my wand!”

With that, Lucius effectively shut down the argument. Frustrated and defeated, Draco turned around and marched down the stairs, punching the wall as he descended. Why does he have to be so hard? And I just keep letting him dictate every move I make. Scowling, he made his way to the interrogation room.

His heart constricted and he felt a cold, wet blanket of dread settle on top of him. He imagined just running away, down one of the hidden passages and outside where he could simply hide until it was all over. Why did he have to go in there if he didn’t want to?! But then, the crack in the wall of his heart let in a new thought. But I can’t hide. I can’t leave her in there, alone, with her. I have to be there for her. It made no sense, but he knew it was true. He chose his own path for the second time and opened the door.

Two heads snapped up at his arrival. Bellatrix turned and faced her nephew. “Did you know, Draco, that a miraculous healing event took place right here in this room last night?” He fought to maintain his composure, to keep his eyes unreadable. “Bones mended, bruises gone, skin all clean and shiny? How do you think that could have happened?” Her tone was light and innocent, but there was wrath in her eyes.

She stood up and stopped mere inches away from Draco. “Surely you didn’t help the Mudblood, did you?” Though he was skilled at Occlumency, he was no match for his aunt’s Legilimens. She saw everything within seconds. He held his breath as she stood there, silently examining him. Then her hand arced up toward him, and she struck him hard with the back of her hand. The rings on her hand sliced through his cheek and the force of the blow nearly knocked him off balance. “How DARE you undo my punishments?! Who do you THINK YOU ARE?!” She continued to rant. “Feeling sorry for the little Mudblood? Did you want to hold her hand and kiss her and make her all better? You disgust me!” She spat on the floor.

Draco didn’t dare to move- he’d seen her in these moods before. She put her face in his. “If you weren’t my nephew I’d curse you into oblivion right now,” she growled. Draco quickly fed her a speech that would hopefully keep his head attached to his body. “I’m sorry, Auntie! I was just freaked out by yesterday- I don’t know what came over me. I-I just lost my head. It had nothing to do with the Mudblood; I-I don’t care about her! It was all about…what I did in here; it made me sick and I wanted to erase it. I just didn’t have the stomach for it yesterday.” He prayed, ironically, that Bellatrix believed him and that Hermione did not.

His answer seemed to placate his aunt just enough to keep him alive. “Well, you’d better find the stomach today, got it?” she warned him. He nodded and put his hands up in surrender. Bellatrix relaxed and turned back to Hermione. “Now where was I, Mudblood?” Hermione’s chest started heaving and she looked at Draco. He caught her gaze and willed her to understand with his eyes. He couldn’t tell if she did, however, because her face contorted in pain and she shrieked so loud it hurt his ears. Hermione’s screams shook the wall around his heart violently, rending huge cracks in it. He never knew it could hurt so much to watch her in pain.

His aunt knew Hermione's body was near its breaking point, so Bellatrix gave her a break from her physical assaults and turned instead to psychological torture. She conjured up terrifying visions only Hermione could see, from thousands of ants crawling on her to her parents being murdered. Hermione thrashed and wailed as the visions seemed completely real to her. Draco felt that his sanity was being shredded as well; he could only take so much more of Hermione’s torture before he came out of his own skin.

Bellatrix halted her assault, leaving the room for a few minutes. Hermione lay panting in a pool of sweat as she looked about the room wildly, trying to discern reality from nightmare. For the first time, Draco spoke to her. “It’s not real, none of it was real,” he whispered soothingly. She locked eyes with him, still shaking, and started to cry. Draco felt a few stones come loose from his wall and fall away, and he did the only thing he knew to comfort her. He hesitantly put his hand on her head and stroked her hair gently; it was the same gesture his mother used to comfort him since he was a baby. He continued stroking her hair, quietly whispering “Shh” as his mum always did. He felt her relax a little under his touch and felt warmth spreading through his body. The wall lost a few more stones.

He quickly pulled away as he heard his aunt’s footsteps approaching. Hermione’s eyes snapped open at the absence of his touch and she looked fearfully at the door. Draco stood back, scared and frustrated by not knowing what to do. Bellatrix sauntered in, holding a bowl and a dark, medium-sized box. She looked too happy; Draco felt his whole body tense as he anticipated her next sick game.

Bellatrix dipped her hand in the bowl and sprinkled the liquid over Hermione. It looked and felt just like water, but had a slightly sweet aroma. Neither Hermione nor Draco knew what to make of it, which made it more unnerving. Bellatrix giggled as she held up the box, making Draco’s stomach drop into his feet. “It’s just a bit of sugar water, sweetie-it’s not going to burn you. But my pet is hungry, and now you taste like his favorite food.”

She removed the lid of the box and reached her hand inside. When she drew it out, the creature was sitting in her palm. It was a large black spider, though unlike any common variety. It took up most of her hand; coarse hair covered its body, and small spikes, like miniature thorns, protruded from its jointed legs. It sat completely still in Bellatrix’s hand, but its double set of pincers clicked audibly as tiny strands of saliva dripped from its mouth.

Draco’s eyes were as wide as saucers; Hermione let out a horrified shriek and drew back on the table, straining against her bindings with all her might. Bellatrix chuckled and wandlessly pulled Hermione flat and tightened the bindings. “Oh My God No Please Don’t Put It On Me!!!” she begged. But Bellatrix grinned a terrible grin and tipped her hand; the spider slid off and landed on Hermione’s belly. For a moment Hermione froze- no sound, no breathing, no movement- as the creature stood motionless.

But then it moved. Hermione let out a blood-curdling scream as the spider began to crawl across her body. Its spiky legs scraped her skin as it climbed up and over her bra. “GET IT OFF ME!!! GET IT OFF ME!!!!” she screamed like someone who’d gone mad. She screamed it over and over as the spider scuttled across her chest and onto her shoulder. Draco found his own sanity being torn to pieces; involuntarily he clapped his hands over his ears, unable to tolerate the screaming any longer. The hideous creature traveled up her arm all the way to her wrist and then crawled back down. It settled at the rounded top of her right breast, above her bra. Though it seemed veritably impossible, Hermione’s shrieks became louder and shriller. Her eyes widened with unmitigated terror and she screamed, “IT’S BITING ME!!! OH GOD IT’S BITING ME!!!!!" Draco heard her clearly despite his covered ears. He looked on in horror as the thing clamped down on her tender skin with its pincers, taking bite after bite. Hermione was bleeding where it sliced through her skin, her blood mixing grotesquely with its saliva. He couldn’t take another second, not one more second of this. Barely conscious of what he was doing, Draco whipped out his wand and pointed it at the monstrous animal. He shouted, “REDUCTO!” and, with perfect aim, blasted the creature into a thousand pieces.

Everyone in the room was motionless for a moment. Draco was frozen in position, panting, his wand still raised. Hermione was too stunned by the blast to move. Bellatrix stood with her mouth open, staring at the miniscule remains of her pet on the floor. She snapped out of it first. Draco’s wand flew out of his hand and into her own and, with a cry of rage, she swept her wand and threw him against the wall. His head hit the stone with a sickening smack and he slumped to the ground.

She levitated him, crashing him into the ceiling and letting him drop to the hard floor. He gave a loud moan of pain and she picked him up again, holding him aloft in front of her. “You insolent little brat!!” She threw him to the ground and kicked him hard in the ribs, twice. “You dare to use your wand against ME?! I’ll rip your head off, nephew or no nephew!!” She hit him with a powerful Cruciatus and he went rigid, his screams rivaling those of Hermione’s. She punished him for a full minute before she released the curse and stood over him.

“That’s the last straw, Draco,” she fumed. “You’ll never draw a wand on me again.” She cast an Ennervate spell that instantly brought him back to consciousness. She wanted his full attention before she continued. “I can’t kill you, I can’t permanently injure you, but I can hit you in another place that will hurt.” She held up his wand and placed one hand on either end. Draco sat up as straight as he could and looked at her in horror. “No, don’t, please Auntie-” SNAP!
His wand splintered in her hands as she broke it in half. He felt the break physically, as though something had also snapped in his spine, and a chill ran through him as the warmth of his magic evaporated from his body. He leaned forward on his hands, pale and shaken, and Bellatrix tossed the pieces of his wand in front of him. She walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. He felt the tears come then, hot on his face, pouring like a river through a broken dam. He wept uncontrollably, not just for the loss of his wand, but for everything that was so very wrong- his aunt’s cruelty, Hermione’s torture, his utter helplessness to rescue her, to take control of his life, to get his father to listen to him just once, to refuse the death sentence that would soon be branded on his arm. There’s no escape, is there? he thought dejectedly.

He heard a small sound- a weak, whispery voice-float down from the table above him. “Draco…are you…alright?” He shook his head. She’s been through hell and back and she’s asking me if I’m alright. “Why do you care?” he said softly. “Because…you helped me… when I’ve needed it the most.” He forced himself to stand, balancing himself against the table and focusing his eyes on Hermione. He scowled at her. “What, I cleaned your face and patted your head? Big deal. I killed that ugly thing that was snacking on you? So what?! It’s not like it makes up for anything I’ve done to you in six bloody years!” As soon as he saw her face he realized what he’d said. He couldn’t take it back. He wanted to take it back…no, he didn’t want to take it back. What he said was true. Draco felt something break inside him and an unbelievable pain stabbed him straight through his heart. The wall came crumbling down.

His tears splashed on her arm and his body heaved with the strength of his sobs. “All the things I’ve said…I’ve done…to hurt you. I’ve…hated you. You’ve been…nothing…but a label…to me. A symbol of…of what I’m supposed to hate. But you’re not…you’re not! You’re a girl…a sweet…beautiful, scared girl…and I can’t help you…I can’t save you!” His body was wracked with grief as he poured out his heart to her. “I’m…so…sorry…H-Hermione. I’m so, so…sorry. I was wrong, I am wrong…all wrong. You can’t thank me…you can’t care about me…because…you just…can’t…” He fell to his knees and gripped the table, leaning his head against the edge. He couldn’t see the tears streaming down Hermione’s face.

“Draco, please…listen to me. I do care… I do. Your…kindness here, your comfort- it’s the only thing that’s keeping me going…it’s all I have. Please, don’t take it away. I…I need you.” Slowly, he stood up. He leaned in close to her and placed his hand on her arm. Eyes still shining with tears, he whispered, “I’m so sorry for everything.” She looked up at him. “I know you are. I believe you. And…I forgive you.” He shook his head incredulously. “You can’t!” She fixed a serious gaze at him. “I just did. What you’ve done for me these past two days means more than anything you did to me for six years. You gave me far more than a ‘pat on the head’ while I’ve been here- you’ve cared for me. You’ve given me hope. Forgiving you doesn’t excuse what you’ve done, but it gives you what everyone deserves- a second chance.”

A wellspring of resolve bubbled up inside of him at that moment. Taking her face in his hands, he fixed his eyes on hers, cool grey locking with deep brown. “I’m going to get you out of here, Hermione. I don’t know how, but I swear to you I’ll get you out.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and then, instinctively, leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. He turned to go but she stopped him immediately. “Draco! Please…don’t go. Please stay with me. I’m so scared.” He turned back and nodded his head, too emotional to speak. He leaned over her and stroked her hair again, resting his forehead lightly on hers. They stayed there, eyes closed, and simply breathed together. It was the closest thing to peace she’d felt in days, and the closest he’d felt in years.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, DRACO HAS GROWN A BACKBONE!

One moment Please

:hack::hack:

BELLATRIX I'LL KILL YOU!

-gives a war cry as she charges after Bella with all her Karate knowledge-

Thanks sweetie!!!

Yes, we're so proud of our little Draco-- better late than never.

I think I'm going to have to write something REALLLLLLLLLLLY horrible happen to Bellatrix. Maybe you'll make a cameo and go all ninja on her!

I lurff your feedback very muchly a lot a lot- it keeps me going!!

Look for the next installment in a few days!

Hey!... *late comment I know hehe*

FABULOUS!... (except the spider bit- that freaked me out)... But seriously brilliant, I love Draco and Hermione together. You will HAVE to write a sequal, no if's or but's about it

Oh and yes Bellatrix must be punished for her psychotic ways.

PAMS PAMS PAMS!

Piece by piece, person by person, the illusions Draco has always believed in are shattered...


Chapter 26: Aftermath

Neither of them heard the sound of footsteps coming toward the room. There were more than one pair; one was heavily stomping ahead. Lucius threw open the door, fuming at his son’s behavior with Bellatrix. His anger was replaced by disbelief as he caught Draco’s tender moment with Hermione. “What…is… this?” Draco straightened up but did not move away from Hermione. “Dad, you need to understand-”

With a roar of fury, Lucius launched himself at his son. Draco had no time to react. Lucius grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and whipped him around, slamming him against the wall. He shouted at Draco, pointing his wand at his son’s face and gripping the boy’s throat with his other hand. “I UNDERSTAND THAT MY SON IS A BLOOD TRAITOR!” He was crushing Draco’s windpipe with the force of his grasp; there was barely an opening in the boy’s airway. “I WILL KILL YOU MYSELF BEFORE I HAVE A BLOOD TRAITOR IN THIS FAMILY!!!” As his father continued to strangle him, Draco struggled wildly for air; his lungs were burning and dark spots were forming in his vision. He clawed desperately at his father’s arm as he began to lose consciousness.

“LET HIM GO!!! NOW!!!” Narcissa stood in the doorway with her wand pointed at her husband’s chest. She was shaking with rage. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bellatrix slowly reaching for her wand. Without even a flicker of movement, Narcissa sent her sister’s wand flying to her and caught it in her hand. She stood now with two wands, one trained on Lucius and the other on Bellatrix. “I told you both what would happen if my son was harmed. Now let him go!!!” she commanded.

Lucius released his grasp on Draco’s throat and Draco slid to the ground, hoarsely gasping for air. “Narcissa,” Lucius began cautiously, “perhaps you should have all the information before you make any rash decisions. Do you know that our son has been helping this Mudblood?” Narcissa cut her eyes to her son and then looked back at Lucius. “It seems we just interrupted a rather touching moment between the two of them,” he went on, acid creeping into his voice. “Our son is becoming a blood traitor!”

Narcissa had not anticipated hearing something like that. Her face went a shade paler and she looked over at Hermione. She decided she would deal with that situation later; right now the only thing that mattered was saving her son. “I don’t give a damn if he is or not at this moment. The only thing I care about is getting him out of this place. He’s finished here, and you will both stay away from him!” Never taking her eyes from them, she called to him. “Draco sweetheart, come to me please.” Draco staggered over and stood beside her. Narcissa’s eyes darted back and forth between her husband and sister as she backed out of the room. She glared at her sister once more and hissed, “You had better pray I don’t sever your wand as well.” As she pushed him out of the room, Draco threw an anguished glance at Hermione. She looked back at him with the grief of seeing her only hope being ripped away from her.

With a gentle hand on his back, Narcissa led Draco back up to the dining room. She allowed him to simply fall into her arms and cry. “Oh, my darling,” she whispered as she stroked his hair. “I knew this would happen. I told them. You shouldn’t have been anywhere near that room. They will both pay for the pain they’ve caused you!” Before he could stop himself, Draco blurted out, “They need to pay for the pain they’ve caused her!”

He felt his mother’s body grow still. Too still. She slowly pulled him away from her so she could look at his face. She stared him directly in the eye, speaking slowly and deliberately as if she were addressing him as a child. “She is a dirty, polluting Mudblood. She deserves to be here. Surely you understand that, darling?”

Draco ran his hands roughly through his hair and dropped his head into them. I don’t understand anything anymore. Keeping his head in his hands, he replied. “I understand what they’re doing to her is wrong. It’s… sick, it’s cruel-it’s evil.” He looked up at his mother. “And, no, she doesn’t deserve to be here at all; she’s just a girl! A girl who’s always been brave, and smart, and kind. She’s never hurt anyone, and yet she’s being tortured in the most sadistic ways! This is wrong- how can you say it’s not wrong?”

Narcissa wrung her hands nervously, searching for the words to rationalize away what he’d just said. “Sweetheart,” she began, “You’re so tired. You’ve seen some terribly ugly things in the past two days and you weren’t ready to see them. I’m not surprised that you’re not thinking clearly right now. Let’s get you up to bed, and we’ll talk in the morning when you’re in a better frame of mind.” She took his arm but he snatched it away.

“I AM thinking clearly, Mother! Maybe for the first time in my life! Are you hearing a word I’m saying? I’ve seen what’s happening to Hermione and it’s wrong! IT’S WRONG!! Do you have any idea what my aunt has been doing to her down there?!” “No Draco, and I don’t care to.” Narcissa didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. “What happens in that room does not concern me,” she said firmly. “That is your aunt’s charge. I have my own responsibilities to manage in this war.”

She turned to leave the room before the argument continued, but Draco followed her and stepped directly in her path. He placed his hands on her upper arms and held her as he spoke earnestly. “But it does concern you! It’s happening in your own house! That makes it your responsibility as well. Please, Mum, you’ve got to stop it, you’ve got to help her- she can’t survive like this much longer!”

Narcissa pulled her arms from her son’s grip. She took his hands in hers and held them to her heart. When she spoke, her voice was low and troubled. “Listen to me very carefully, Draco. The words you are saying come dangerously close to the speech of a blood traitor. You need to let this go; I won’t have anything happen to you. You saw how your father reacted just now. Can you imagine what the Dark Lord would do to you if he’d heard you sympathizing with a Mudblood? You are everything to me, and I will not lose you!” She spoke louder, with authority. “You will stop talking about this Mudblood trash. I don’t want to hear another word about her!”

She tried to walk away but Draco still blocked her path. “Stop calling her that, that’s not what she is! You have to hear it, you have to open your eyes! She’s being tortured and she hasn’t done anything wrong! You have to stop it, you have to care-” “Not another word, Draco!!” Narcissa shouted. “This is over, now!” Draco’s eyes flashed angrily and he grabbed her wrist as she pushed past him. “Then you’re no better than your sister!” he hissed.

She wheeled around and slapped him hard across the face. A bright red mark appeared on his pale cheek as he stared at her in hurt and disbelief. His mother had never hit him, not even once. That was his father’s job. Narcissa gasped as she stared back at him, horrified by what she’d done. She looked down when she saw the tears welling in his eyes; she couldn’t bear to see him cry. She spoke in a voice hardly above a whisper. “Don’t ever say that to me again.” Before she began crying as well, she strode quickly out of the room, leaving Draco standing there as his whole world spun off its axis.

I read the first 7 chapters, it's all I had time for tonight, but will definitely continue tomorrow! You have a fantastic style of writing, and all characters are so...well...in character I especially like how you portray Narcissa, we never got to see much of her in the books. And I liked Harry quoting Uncle Vernon

Ha ha, IF I am going to have a Cameo, call me Sarah-Jane, because that's my name! I'm actually a Black-Belt in Karate.

OMG Narcissa slapped Draco! But she saved his life. So they kinda cancel each other out... I think. Do they?

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE FIX DRACO'S WAND? 'cause it's still in pieces as far as I know.

PAMS!

Oh yay!!! I'm so glad you like it, hunny! You'll like Chapter 8- it's one of my favorites. I love writing Narcissa- I agree that she's such a small character in the books, and even the films. But I'm a mom and so I relate a lot to her and to Molly Weasley. Molly will figure in a lot in the sequal to this story.

Thanks for your sweet compliment- it means so much, especially since it's my first attempt at writing one of these.

Love you muchly!!!



Girl, if I can find a way I sooooo will add you! Wow, a black belt- that's totally amazing!

Believe me, Narcissa feels really bad about slapping him. It's just that she's utterly terrified about the feelings he has for Hermione, and her prejudices about Muggle-borns are practically hardwired into her. And she hates what her sister does- she can't stomach it, so Draco's comment hit a big ol' nerve.

Oh, and his wand is busted. It's not coming back.

Thanks again for your feedback- you know how much it means to me!
And I PROMISE to get back to reading your fics too, I swear!!!!

It took me a good 10 years, I'm 14 now, I've been doing since I was 4

She better bloody had do!

Good! I can't stand what Bella does as well!

Oh nooo! I hope he get's a new one

No Problem

Tae your time! I've got about 6 active fic's

I love it i'm on chapter 13 brilliant I especialy love Draco good choice