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Wow, brilliant chapter! I loved everyone's reaction when they saw the car, and then when Draco got off, and thank God for Dumbledore, he always knows the right thing to do. Moody is hilarious :lol: I can't wait to read what happens next! |
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That kind of a response is a writer's dream! :love: Yeah, Draco and the Order...and Ron... doesn't make for a pleasant experience. Is Hermione conscious enough to help her rescuer? :worried: Thanks, mama! I LURFF YOU BUNCHES!!!!! :glomp: |
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I'll have another chapter up here in a minute. Thanks, hunny, for always being here for me! :glomp: |
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Yes, I need Dumbledore in the story or else there would just be a bloodbath. :revive: I found that I really have fun writing Mad-Eye; I've got to come up with some more good lines for him! :lol: Another chapter coming right up- thank you again for always replying. It makes my day!!! Love ya!!! :glomp: |
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. |
Fabulously written! Ron and Harry were very in character, and you write Dumbledore perfectly! I even got to like Ginny in this story, though normally I find her very annoying. I loved Draco's speech to Hermione's dad, I hope people will start to believe him. |
:loved: OOOOOooohhhh I love it! I love it all!!! Stef! you never cease to amaze me! :glomp: Neck chappie next chappie! Pams sweetie! |
I was worried! Thank God Remus is being okay! Please, next chapter, next chapter! How many times do I need to stress it? PAMS Already! |
Hi! New reader! :hello: I just caught up and this story is amazing!! it is so well written! Plus Draco..:loved:enough said :lol: Great chapter PAMS |
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I find it surprisingly easy to write Dumbledore, don't know why! But I enjoy him tons! There'll be more of him before the end. :D It's tough for everyone to believe Draco, because his past has been so awful, and he's personally hurt many of the people there. We can only hope he gets a fair chance! :worried: Quote:
Thank you, mama- you know your encouragement has kept me going from the very beginning. What would I do without you? Don't answer that- I never want to find out! :love: Hang in there; there are a LOT of opinions at 12 Grimmauld Place currently about our fair-haired hero.... Quote:
Let's see if Remus has any other supporters. Lines are gonna be drawn in the Order, you'll see! Read and reply with your lovliness, as always!! :glomp: Quote:
It means so much that you took the time to send a message, you have no idea how much it makes my day. Please feel free to do it some more! :glomp: I'm soooo glad you're enjoying this story; stay with me til the end (which is coming in a few chapters). But I've planned a sequal, plus a completely different Romance story still starring our darling Draco. Hope you come along for those rides as well!! :D |
6 Jan. (evening) Tension hung heavy in the kitchen at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Everyone had something to say, but no one knew how to begin. Dumbledore finally broke the silence. “Well, it seems we have a rather unexpected situation on our hands. Molly, how is Hermione faring?” The red-headed woman sighed heavily. “She’s resting, thankfully. She should make a full recovery.” “That’s good news,” smiled the Headmaster. “And Draco, where is he?” Underneath the table, Ron’s right hand curled into a tight fist. “Remus took him up to a room to rest, and is remaining outside the door to keep a watch on him,” replied Kingsley, leaning his hulky form against the table. “He’s sound asleep.” Dumbledore’s smile faltered just a little, and concern crinkled the corners of his eyes. He sighed. “Well, suffice it to say that he needs it as much as Hermione does.” A low grumble emanated from the group of teens at the far end of the table. Ron couldn’t hold back any longer. “So we’re all supposed to be happy that the little prat is sleeping like a baby, like he’s some kind of bloody hero? Are we forgetting how he’s always treated Hermione- he doesn’t give a damn about her, we know that! He held up his hand to silence his mother, who was about to tell him to watch his mouth. “No! How can you people even begin to believe him?! This is complete rubbish!" “Because Hermione said we should,” spoke Jean. “She was absolutely insistent.” Tonks and Molly nodded their heads in assent. “And I spoke with him,” added Tom, “and he seemed quite sincere to me.” “You don’t know him, or his family,” Mad-Eye interjected. “They’re Death Eaters, all of them. Very high-up in Voldemort’s army. Their entire history is full to the gills with dark magic. They’re some of the worst of that breed. Don’t tell me that sonny-boy up there is turning out to be a saint; I’d just as soon believe that the Dark Lord is home baking biscuits!” “But you saw him today- he was beside himself worrying, and Hermione wanted him by her side,” spoke Tonks, her mousy brown hair changing slightly scarlet. “We need to give him a chance to explain.” Mad-Eye growled at her. “Just because the little rat is your cousin, don’t jump to defend him!” Tonks was about to fire a retort when Ginny added her support. Ron wasn’t the only teen in the room who could voice an opinion. “But he still brought her here, knowing everyone hates him, and begged us to help her. She’s here safe because of him.” Ron wheeled around and glared at her. “Shut up, Ginny! No one gives a damn what you think!” Ginny went red in the face, stung by her brother’s words. As her parents jumped on Ron for his rudeness, she turned her head to Harry, sitting next to her. Instead of support, or indignation on her behalf, he regarded her with narrowed eyes and a frown. “Why would you stick up for him, Ginny? That’s the third time now! Since when did you start believing in Malfoy?” he asked, hurt and bitterness lacing his words. “I’m not saying I believe him,” she pleaded, “I’m just stating a fact-” By this point, the arguments for and against Draco were mounting as friends and family took opposing sides. Civility was disintegrating as tempers flared. Dumbledore finally stood and held up his hands, raising his voice above the din. “Will everyone please calm down!” he commanded and the room went quiet. “Arguing at this time is pointless, for we haven’t enough information to even begin weighing the truth of Draco’s, or Hermione’s words. We simply do not know what happened yet. The fact of the matter is that Hermione is safe and Draco has brought her here and asked our help. That must be taken into account. For now, I implore you to bring this discussion to an end for the day; rationality departs when the hour grows late. Let’s all rest tonight, and look at this with cooler heads in the morning.” With that, the old wizard turned toward the door and left. A moment later, the fireplace blazed green and he was gone. The others were left to grudgingly end their dispute for the evening. Molly sent Ginny, Fred and George home for the night; Ron insisted on staying close to Hermione. Against her better judgment, and with Arthur’s encouragement, she agreed to let her son stay behind. Harry refused to leave as well. Tom and Jean were already heading into the parlor where their daughter was sleeping, and Tonks went to the stairs to join Remus. Kingsley agreed to return in the morning, and Mad-Eye stayed at the table, not moving. There was no way he was leaving with a Death Eater’s kid upstairs. **** A shrill scream pierced the air in the middle of the night. Ron jumped nearly a foot off the floor where he’d been sleeping beside Hermione. Her parents started and leapt from their couch. Hermione was sitting up, stiff as a board, with her eyes wide open and terrified. She looked around wildly without seeing, her face pale and coated with sweat. “Nooo, no, PLEASE NO!!!” she wailed, shielding herself from an invisible captor. “Leave me alone, don’t hurt me, PLEASE!!” She gripped her blanket and pushed herself back against the arm of the couch, cowering from the visions in her nightmare. Ron was first to touch her. “Hermione! Hermione, wake up! It’s just a dream! Come on, just wake up, it’s okay!” he repeated, holding her hand and placing his other hand on her head to stroke her hair. Hermione pulled away from him, still held captive in her dream, pulling her knees up to her chest to fend off her unseen attacker. Tom and Jean knelt by her, trying in vain to wake her but getting nowhere, cringing at their daughter’s agonized cries. “DRACO!! DRACO, WHERE ARE YOU?!?! PLEASE, DRACO!” she began screaming again and again, like a terrified mantra. Ron dropped her hand as if it had burned him and he stood up, staggering back a few steps. His face was twisted with hurt and disbelief. “Tom, get Draco!” shouted Jean as she held onto Hermione, attempting to soothe her through her screams. Tom raced up the stairs. In an instant, it seemed, he was back down with the young man in tow. Draco was still shaking himself out of the fog of sleep, but hearing his name in Hermione’s cries cleared his head immediately. In a flash he was by her side. He knelt beside her and took her face in his hands. “I’m here, Hermione, I’m right here. Look at me, sweetheart. Just look at me, I’m right here.” His voice, soft and insistent, and his hands holding her face, brought Hermione out of her night terror. She grabbed for him with both hands, wide-eyed and shaking, tears forming in their corners. She buried her head in his neck. “Please, please don’t leave me, please Draco! I’m scared, I’m-” “Safe. You’re safe now,” he finished for her. “And I’ll never leave you, never. I’m always right here. It’s all over now…I’m here,” he breathed, and held her in a tight embrace. She gripped him as if he’d float away if she let go. He climbed onto the couch and sat behind her, pulling her back against his chest and wrapping his arms around her. She still held onto his arms, but she visibly relaxed as her body came in contact with his. She closed her eyes,and her breathing slowed. “I’m…you’re here…okay,” she managed, and snuggled into his chest. He nuzzled her hair with his cheek and kissed the top of her head. “Go to sleep, Hermione. I’ll be right here,” he whispered against her hair, squeezing her gently with his arms. She nodded sleepily and fell back into a more peaceful slumber. Jean leaned into Draco, a few grateful tears dripping onto his arm. “Thank you, thank you so much. You’ll never know how deeply we love you for what you’ve done for her. Thank God for you.” Tom put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and patted it. “We owe you more than we could ever repay, son.” Draco, embarrassed by the show of affection, lowered his head on top of Hermione’s and managed to spit out, “No, it’s…really…I’d do anything for her.” He felt a warmth spread through his body at his own words. “We’ll be right here if you need us,” whispered Jean as she and Tom settled back onto their couch. Draco closed his eyes and paused to thoroughly take in this pure, precious moment. He used his senses to immerse himself in the feeling of holding Hermione: to breathe in her scent, hear her even breathing, feel the softness of her body against his, taste her hair as he kissed her head over and over. This was the rightest he’d ever felt in his life; everything was exactly as it should be. For the first of many times, he hoped. He settled his head back on the arm of the couch and fell asleep with a smile. **** A forgotten figure emerged from the shadow of the corner. He’d heard everything, watched as the one he hated embraced the one he loved. She didn’t want him; she called for him. He heard the sickening gratefulness in her parents’ voices. They called him son. He would explode if he stayed any longer. He needed somewhere to rage, to scream, to break things with his bare hands. He stalked out of the room and down the hall, flinging the front door open. Damn it all to Hades, why couldn’t he Apparate yet? He slammed the door shut and took off down Grimmauld Place, not knowing or caring where he was going. |
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Anyways can't wait for next chapter, and a sequel yay!! :woot: |
7 Jan. Molly padded down the stairs and headed to the parlor to check on Hermione. As she rounded the parlor door, she stopped in her tracks. Draco and Hermione were on the couch together; his arms were wrapped around her and she seemed comfortably nestled within them. The sight was dumbfounding. Her thoughts went immediately to Ron. Merlin’s beard, he’d murder Draco on the spot if he saw this. She looked into the hallway, her eyes darting in both directions, but she was alone for now. She turned back and found she couldn’t stop staring at the couch. The two of them slept together as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Molly rubbed her temples- she believed Hermione’s explanations, but nothing in front of her made any sense. This was definitely not the Draco Malfoy they all knew. Sighing, she walked back toward the staircase and opened the kitchen door. She began to pull out pots and frying pans, eggs and bacon. She grabbed an apple from the counter and poured herself a glass of milk, and nearly jumped out of her skin when the door flung open. “Hold it right there!” She screamed and knocked over her milk as Mad-Eye pointed his wand level with her head. He quickly lowered it when the face and the scream before him did not belong to the Death Eater’s kid. “Where’s the boy? Have you seen him?” Molly was still recovering from the misplaced attack on her life, and she scowled as she drew her own wand to clean up the milk. “You scared the kneazels out of me, Mad-Eye! He’s in the parlor with Hermione. They’re both asleep.” Mad-Eye wheeled himself around and stomped out of the kitchen. Then his head popped back through the doorway. “Uh, sorry there, Molly,” he mumbled and was gone again. Molly shook her head and grumpily refilled her empty glass. **** Damned if the woman wasn’t right. There he was, sleeping like a ruddy baby. What the hell was he doing? Who the hell did he think he was? Oh no; this kid wasn’t getting off that easy. Mad-Eye thunked his artificial leg across the parlor floor and stopped just in front of the sleeping teens. He really didn’t want to wake Hermione or her parents, but the little rodent’s sweet dreams were officially over. Dumbledore said to wait until morning and, guess what? It was morning. He tapped Draco’s forehead with his wand repeatedly until the boy opened his eyes. Wincing, and more than a little annoyed, Draco jerked his head away. “What?!” he snapped, whispering so as not to disturb Hermione. “Get up. Nap time’s over, boy!” replied Mad-Eye in a low growl. Draco glared at him. “In case you haven’t noticed,” he said quietly, “Hermione is sleeping, and I’m not about to disturb her. So I suppose you’ll just have to wait.” Suddenly, the tip of Mad-Eye’s wand was digging into Draco’s temple. “Her parents are here- no one needs your sorry behind. Now get up or my wand may just slip; even a small Crucio to the temple isn’t a pleasant experience.” Draco’s eyes widened in serious fear at Mad-Eye’s threat. “You’re barking mad,” he breathed as he began to sit up. “Yep,” replied Mad-Eye gruffly. Draco slowly moved himself out from under Hermione’s body, eliciting a soft moan and the gripping of his arm. “Shh, it’s alright. Just sleep,” he whispered, gently removing his arm from her grasp. He stood up and faced Mad-Eye. “If she wakes up terrified like she did last night and I’m not here to fix it, it’s on your head,” he said as bravely as he could. “You’d better just worry about your head, sonny,” replied Mad-Eye as he grabbed Draco by the collar and shoved him out of the room. Mad-Eye dragged his captive down the long hallway and into a small room, the kind that may have been used as the Black Family’s drawing room. He tossed Draco unceremoniously into a chair in the corner of the room, and stood over him. Draco’s stress level began to climb quickly. “Now I don’t have the time nor the inclination to listen to your rubbish, sonny. We’re gonna get to the truth and we’re gonna get to it now.” He pointed his wand directly at Draco’s forehead and the boy cringed, not knowing what kind of torture to expect. Instead, he felt as though he’d been blasted back in his chair by his own brain. He could feel Mad-Eye inside his head, ruthlessly uprooting his memories and digging through his past. It hurt, it hurt like hell, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the images the Auror was unearthing. He was five, and his father had backhanded him for spilling his milk…he was seven and his Aunt Bella killed that fox in the backyard…he was ten and his parents were having a terrific fight about him…he was twelve and he disappointed his Father yet again, when Potter caught the snitch and he didn’t…he was fourteen and his Father used the Cruciatus Curse on him for the first time… He was gripping the sides of his chair so hard his hands were cramping. Sweat was pouring down his face and his whole body was rigid. He couldn’t even try to hold Mad-Eye back; it was as though his feeble Occlumency skills were made of wet paper. He felt like his head would explode, and now Mad-Eye was approaching the memories he’d come for. Hermione was on the floor at his parent’s feet… he was watching his aunt casting the Cruciatus Curse…he was holding down her arm as her blood dripped from his fingers…Hermione was screaming as he himself roared “Crucio”…he and his aunt were breaking her ribs…he was curled in a ball in his room, sick in his stomach… Just what Mad-Eye needed to convict and condemn him. But then came memories that Mad-Eye didn’t anticipate. He was healing her wounds…cleaning her face…he was killing his aunt’s creature…he was on his knees, the broken pieces of his wand before him…he was comforting Hermione, taking responsibility, begging her forgiveness…his father was choking him…his mother was slapping him…Snape was talking to him…his father was fondling Hermione…he was attacking his father, burying him…he was rescuing Hermione… he was kissing her…he was shielding her from his aunt’s Killing Curse, he was racing in the car…he was terrified she might not make it. As swiftly as it began, Mad-Eye’s mental assault ceased. The Auror looked at Draco in shock; the boy was telling the truth. Mad-Eye sat down on a nearby chair with a plunk, and pondered what he’d just seen. He finally managed to say, “You’re still not as innocent as you claimed, but…you saved her.” “I told you that.” Draco’s voice was a strained whisper. He was drenched with sweat, shaking from the memories, his muscles cramping from how tightly he’d contracted them. He had the splitting headache to end all headaches. He pitched forward, throwing his head between his knees, and panted. “I’ll admit, you’re more than I thought you were; you’ve gone through some hell, young man,” said Mad-Eye quietly. Draco stayed where he was, not saying anything. Mad-Eye stood up with some effort and left the room, pausing to give Draco’s shoulder one heavy pat. It was another half an hour before Draco would move. **** The entire house was waking up. Harry ambled down the stairs. Remus and Tonks were dressed and ready for breakfast. Molly had already begun frying up the bacon and eggs. Arthur was sweetly helping his wife by setting the table. Tom yawned sleepily as he moved slowly through the doorway. Arthur immediately asked him, “How is Hermione?” “She’s all right, as well as can be expected. We had to get Draco in the middle of the night; she was having a nightmare and kept calling for him. Thankfully, he settled her down right away. He wasn’t there, though, this morning. Hermione’s only just woken up, and Jean is with her. “Well, I’ll make them both a plate to eat in the parlor,” said Molly. “Draco is down the hall.” Everyone turned to Mad-Eye. “He’ll need some breakfast too, though I don’t know if he’ll keep it down right now. Tonks moved closer to the old Auror. “Why is that? What did you do to him?” “Calm down, Nymphadora. I didn’t hurt the boy.” Tonks counted to ten in her head; he was always going to call her that. “Then what did happen?” Mad-Eye sat down, and everyone followed suit as Molly doled out the bacon and eggs. “I used Legilimens on the boy to get the truth from him.” The room went silent. All eyes were on the Auror now. Tonks held her breath. “And?” “And he was telling the truth.” Gasps went around the table. Molly stopped with the frying pan still in her hand. Mad-Eye went on. “He’s not as squeaky clean as he wanted us to believe, but he definitely had a change of heart and rescued Hermione.” “And I am extremely grateful to hear that news.” Dumbledore stood in the doorway, a smile of relief blossoming on his face. No one had even heard the wizard come in, and no one was surprised at that. “I always knew he had it in him.” “You did?” asked Arthur. “With all the evidence to the contrary?” Dumbledore smiled again. “Across the years, not all the evidence was to the contrary. He was always so controlled by his family, and every so often I would catch him trying to break away from that control. I am pleased to see he has finally succeeded.” There were many smiles of relief at the table, but not all. Arthur was frowning, and Harry was downright glowering. He spoke up. “But, Professor, how are we supposed to forget everything else he’s done?" Dumbledore fixed his gaze on Harry. Kindly he spoke. “No one has asked you to forget, nor is forgetting truly possible. However, you must not disregard recent actions simply because they contradict actions from the past. People can change, Harry.” Harry didn’t disagree with Dumbledore, but neither did he agree. He just lowered his eyes and concentrated on his eggs. Molly held out a plate. “Would you like some breakfast, dear?” The old wizard smiled and shook his head. “Perhaps later, if there are any leftovers. Though with your wonderful cooking, that seems unlikely. No, I believe I need to spend some time with a young man sitting down the hall.” **** Draco looked up slowly as the door to the drawing room opened. He was surprised to see who stood there. “May I come in?” asked his Headmaster. Draco nodded. Dumbledore sat down in a chair facing Draco. “I heard the good news. You rescued Hermione.” Draco snorted inelegantly. “Yeah, it’s a shame no one could believe me until my mind got ripped to shreds.” A pained expression crossed the professor’s face. “I wish you hadn’t have had to go through that, Draco. But you can surely understand why it is so difficult for those here to believe your story.” Draco huffed, but didn’t argue the fact. “I’d like you to tell me what happened. Perhaps there are some things you’d like to get off your chest?” Draco stared at Dumbledore. How did he know everything? He shuddered at the “things” to which the professor was referring. Dumbledore noticed his reticence. “You have nothing to fear from me, Draco,” he said gently. “I’ve found that owning up to something can release you from its grip.” Draco hung his head. “But maybe I shouldn’t be released.” Dumbledore leaned forward. “Now, now. How is punishing yourself for the rest of your life going to help at all? Hermione isn’t dwelling on the past. She believes in you." Draco cringed morosely. “Perhaps she shouldn’t. Perhaps it’s foolish to believe in me.” At that, Dumbledore let out a chuckle. “Are you calling Hermione Granger a fool? Surely you’re not implying that Hermione is unintelligent.” “No! No, of course not!” He protested but at the same time, felt an uninvited smile break through his disgruntled countenance. Hermione Granger unintelligent? The very thought made him want to laugh. “So then, it is logical that you are someone worth believing in. Now, believe in yourself and own your choices. Remember, you’ll find no judgment here from me.” Draco sighed. Could he really tell him? He said there was no judgment, but he didn’t know what Draco had done. How could anyone not judge, not refuse forgiveness, not condemn? He realized he was more afraid of the old wizard’s rejection than telling him what happened in the first place. He took a deep breath. Dumbledore was right- he had to confess to someone, or it would eat him up until there was nothing left. So Draco chose- to do the right thing. “All right, Professor. I don’t even know how to say the things I have to say.” Dumbledore smiled. “I find that the beginning of the story is a perfect place to start.” So Draco began his story. The first part, about the Snatchers, was relatively easy. Then it was downhill from there. He had to tell what he did. He had to say it out loud. And doing so might just crush him. His breath got shakier the closer he came to his part in Hermione’s torture. Finally, there was nothing left to say, no way to circumvent the truth- he had come to it. “…then my aunt told me to take out my wand. I didn’t want to, that’s the truth, I swear! And I was scared, and sick to my stomach about it. I’d never done anything like that before.” He clasped his hands tightly in an attempt to keep them from shaking so badly. “Then, my aunt was talking to me, telling me things…and then I wanted to hurt her.” He put his head in his hands, unable to even show his face to the Professor. He fought back the tears as he continued. “A-and I said it. I screamed it. And I couldn’t stop. She was screaming, and hitting her head against the wall, and I didn’t want to stop, I didn’t…” A few sobs escaped his lips. “And they were so proud of me. And the worst part is that I was proud of myself. I felt bloody ten feet tall, like I’d really achieved something. My Father was proud to call me his son. And I wanted that, I wanted it so badly, I didn’t care about anyone else. I didn’t care about her.” He stopped and completely broke down. How could he have done such a thing? How could he have hurt her? He’d spend the rest of his life protecting her to make up for it, if he could ever make up for it. He felt Dumbledore’s hand on his shoulder, strong and steady, a pillar for him to lean on. But he didn’t deserve a pillar. He was despicable- hadn’t the Professor heard anything he’d said? “I broke her ribs, one at a time! I held her arm while my psychotic aunt carved that word into it. A word I called Hermione all through school! And maybe I didn’t want to do those things, but I didn’t hold back. I didn’t stand up for her. I was too much of a bloody coward to go against my aunt! I hurt her, I helped to damn near kill her! And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I want to go back and change it all, but I can’t. I have to live with what I did to her. But that’s not the worst part. She has to live with what I did to her.” And he was overcome. He didn’t even remember when he’d fallen into the Professor’s arms, sobbing like his heart would break into the old man’s chest. “I’m just so sorry…so…sorry.” He couldn’t say anything else. Finally, his weeping subsided and he was able to sit up of his own volition. Dumbledore held out a handkerchief which Draco gladly accepted. He felt ashamed, and wrung out, and oddly…lighter. Like a weight had been lifted from him. He didn’t understand how talking about such terrible things would actually make him feel better. He looked up at the Professor, his tear-stained face searching for answers. Dumbledore’s eyes were misted over as well. He leaned forward and held Draco by the shoulders. “You’re wondering why you feel better. Have you heard of the expression, ‘confession is good for the soul’? It’s true. You’ve now shared your pain with me, so you no longer carry all of it. And because I choose not to let it affect me in a negative way, I don’t carry it either." "Draco, I’ve watched you grow in the shadow of your family for the past five and a half years. You have experienced more in your sixteen years than anyone should in a lifetime. You’ve had it so very hard, and you could have turned out just as heartless as some of the members of your family. But you didn’t. You chose not to follow that path; you chose the frightfulness of the unknown rather than the crystal-clear fate planned for you. You’ve had your eyes opened to the truth. And you chose, Draco. You chose to do the right thing.” “Remember: it is not our abilities that make us who we are; rather, it is our choices*. And it is because of those choices that you are worth a great deal. I believe in you, Draco. I always have. Now it is your turn to believe in yourself.” Draco listened to every word from the Professor’s mouth. Could it really be so easy? To simply believe in himself for the first time, believe that he was capable of goodness? It was a foreign concept to him, and difficult to wrap his mind around. “But what about everyone else? How will they believe in me? Why should they?” Dumbledore smiled. “Just continue making the right choices and they will.” “And what if I don’t know what the right choices are,” he admitted, embarrassed. “You have more friends here than you know. They will help you make the right choices,” replied the old wizard. And with that, he stood up. “Now, Molly has made a delicious breakfast. I think that we should help ourselves before it’s gone.” He offered his hand to Draco, who accepted it gladly. Draco paused for a moment. “Thank you, Professor, for…everything,” he said with utmost sincerity. Dumbledore beamed a wide smile. “Yes. I believe now you can thank me.” *Dumbledore's line, not mine :) |
How I hate it when I'm behind! But I've read chapter 33 now, and I must say it was excellent! Moody was hilarious and in character, Ron's jealousy was a very fitting element, and the writing overall was brilliant! I will read the latest chapter as soon as I can. :glomp: |
AMAZING CHAPTER! :D Poor Draco though with Mad Eye invading his mind and being all rude.. :poke: Typical Mad Eye. At least everyone believes him now.. And I loved the Draco and Dumbledore part. ^_^ It was perfect. Dumbledore always knows how to fix things :yes: |
Wow! The last chapter was fantastic, I loved Moody and Molly at the beginning :lol: And the way you inserted Dumbledore's original line was brilliant. I actually started to like Draco because of your fic, though I haven't thought much of him when reading the books. Could you add a special appearance by Snape before the end? Pretty please? :glomp: |
Anyways... Poor Draco! Having his mind ripped to shreds! Is that figure Ron by any chance! And well done of the Golden Goblin! Knew you would win! :woot: Pams m'dear! |
I just read the first chapter :loved:, i'm gonna try catch up with you PAMS! |
Haven't left any comments but I never stopped reading and I caught up with you Awwwwwwwww way to end that chapter soooo cute Good thing Hermione's honest or he'd be gone like that PAMS! |
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And don't worry, Snape will return once more! :D Thanks, lovey! :glomp: |
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The figure? Yes, you are very wise, my dear! ;) Only a few more chappies!! Love ya! :glomp: |
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Take your time, but I'll look forward to your feedback anytime! :glomp: |
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Thanks, mama! :glomp: |
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Draco wasn’t ready for breakfast just yet. He excused himself and headed upstairs. He smelled. And Draco did not ever smell. He counted in his head: thirty-six hours since he last showered. Nearly a personal record. And a lot had happened in those thirty-six hours. He stripped off his filthy clothes and drew himself a glorious bath. Easing into the hot water, Draco felt his muscles instantly relax. He sunk in, right up to his chin, and closed his eyes. How easy it would be to just fall asleep right then and there. But he wanted to get back to Hermione and make sure she was all right. He stayed for a time, stretching each one of his grateful muscles and relishing the peace and quiet. Lying there, he had time to process all that had happened in the past thirty-six hours. He wanted so much to believe that the people here would give him a chance, but he was doubtful as to whether they could, or even should. But they didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered was Hermione. Hermione. Not Granger, not Mudblood. Just her beautiful name, as it should have been all along. He cursed himself for all the pain he’d caused her over the years. Why would she even want to be with him? The only thing he knew for sure is that he wanted to be with her, and that he’d spend his whole life making up for his actions. Did he love her? No, it was too soon and too chaotic for that. But someday… Love was something he wasn’t sure he believed in. Perhaps his mother’s love. Suddenly thinking of her was a stunner to the heart. His mother. He loved her as best he could. He knew she loved him. The last thing he ever said to her was a scathing insult. What if he never got the chance to say anything else? Guilt and grief racked him as he thought of how scared she must be right now. How he wished there was any way possible to tell her he was all right. He was a horrible son. How had he expected her to react any differently about Hermione? She hadn’t had the epiphany that he did. How could he have said what he said to her? Tears worked their way down his cheeks. Crying was becoming a habit. Shaking himself from his thoughts (for the insistent rumbling of his stomach told him that food was now a necessity), he found an adequate bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo, and went at cleaning the last thirty-six hours off of him. In the end, he didn’t smell as good as he normally did, but at least he was clean. He dried off and slung his towel low on his hips. It was at that point that he realized he had no toiletries whatsoever. He chuckled wryly. It’s not as if I was thinking about hygiene while I was running for my life. Surely someone had things he could borrow. Professor Lupin was here; he wouldn’t mind, would he? Draco began tiptoeing through the hallway, peeking his head into the bedrooms to sort out which may belong to Lupin. He pulled the door open on the far bedroom and jumped back with a yelp at the sound of a girl’s scream. Ginny had Apparated over with her brothers only moments before. She was in her room, unloading the things she’d brought from home when her door was opened. She screamed at the sight of a man in a towel at her door. It took a moment to realize who he was. “Merlin’s pants!” She instinctively went to cover herself but realized she wasn’t the one half-naked. Draco Malfoy was standing half-naked in her room, his face a mixture of surprise and mortification. “I was just looking for…a toothbrush, and I…I’m just going to go now,” he stammered. He made for the hallway quickly. Ginny snapped out of her shock. “Wait!” she called after him. “We have toothbrushes here!” “No-no-no, I’m sure I’ll find one elsewhere,” floated a voice from down the hall. “You won’t. We keep the extras in here.” Ginny heard him sigh heavily and trod back over to her room. She headed swiftly to the bathroom to fetch a new toothbrush and, when she came back, there he was, still in that towel. She made sure to look at his face when she handed him the toothbrush. “Here.” He snatched the toothbrush from her hand. “Um, yeah, okay.” He gave her a nod of his head and disappeared back into the hall. Ginny sat down on her bed, trying not to think about Draco’s body and failing miserably. She always thought of him as lean and sort of lanky. Probably all that black he wears. But he was surprising muscular. His chest and abs were well-defined, his arms and shoulders lean and subtly sculpted. She wondered how muscular the rest of him was. A blush as red as her hair blossomed on her cheeks, and she chastised herself for even thinking such things. She had a feeling, though, that the image would be burned in her brain forever. “Um,” called the voice. “You wouldn’t happen to have any extra clothes in there too, would you?” Oh Merlin. **** Molly was cleaning up the breakfast dishes when Harry popped his head into the kitchen. “Mrs. Weasley, have you seen Ron anywhere?” She stopped washing dishes at once. “What? He’s not still asleep upstairs?” “No,” replied Harry. “He didn’t sleep upstairs at all. He was going to sleep on the floor next to Hermione.” Oh dear. What had happened last night? Draco was there in the morning, but not her son. This couldn’t mean anything good. “I’m afraid…Ron may have left the house upset. Or, perhaps he went home. Go ask one of the children.” “Sure,” he said, then paused. “Why would Ron have left the house upset?” Molly’s voice was nervous. “Oh-well, it’s just that Dra-well, let’s not worry about that right now. Please ask if he was at home, and come and tell me right away.” Harry returned a moment later with a concerned look on his face. “He didn’t go home, Mrs. Weasley.” Molly’s anxiety mounted. “Harry, is there anywhere Ron would go if he was angry, upset? If he wanted to be alone?” Harry shook his head. “When he’s upset at school, he just walks around the grounds or gets something to eat. Maybe he went to a pub? Or maybe The Leaky Cauldron? That’s not too far from here.” “I’ll have Arthur go and check there,” said Molly, now more troubled than ever. “You think he’s okay though, don’t you?” asked Harry uneasily. “I-I’m sure he is,” replied Molly, trying to convince herself that he was. **** Harry’s instincts had been spot-on. Ron had been in the Leaky Cauldron, but had left a few hours before. Well, was kicked out, more accurately. He’d walked all the way there in the middle of the night in the freezing cold. But the cold didn’t even bother him, given how much he burned with hatred. He’d finally needed warmth and food, and found his way to the restaurant. A couple of firewhiskeys and a bar fight later, Ron found himself stumbling home with a busted lip and a serious headache. **** “Your mother is going to have your hide for this.” Arthur had met Ron halfway home. At first, he thought the boy was just incredibly tired. But when he got within half a metre of his son, the smell of firewhiskey assaulted him. “Have you been drinking?” Ron’s head was throbbing, and the very last thing he wanted right now was his father’s angry voice in his ear. “…scaring your mother and I like this, not knowing where you were- what if something had happened to you?” Ron’s eyes were downcast. “I’m sorry, Dad. I was just angry.” “Just angry?” his father exclaimed incredulously. “You get some fresh air when you’re ‘just angry’ and no, your trek all the way to the Leaky Cauldron does not qualify as getting fresh air. You don’t drink until you’re stumbling drunk, and you certainly don’t get into a pub brawl! What is the matter with you, Ron?” Ron sighed, but his senses cleared slightly when the reason for his anger resurfaced. “It’s Malfoy,” he spat. “In Headquarters like a bloody hero. Acting like he cares about Hermione. What a bunch of dragon dung!” His father didn’t bother to correct his language. “Last night, I slept on the bloody floor next to her while he slept in some fluffy bed upstairs. She woke up with a nightmare, and who do you think she wanted? Not me. Not me! How is that even remotely fair?! She was in his arms, Dad, and she was happy!” Frustrated tears formed in the corners of his eyes. Arthur sighed heavily. Now he understood. He put his arm around his son. “Ron, Hermione’s been through a terrible time. I can understand why you’re angry. I’m angry too, if you want to know the truth. I’m not ready to just welcome Draco in and forget everything he’s done to you and to our family. But I’m sure things will go back to normal very soon. Just trust in Hermione.” “They’d better,” Ron grumbled under his breath as he and his father reached Grimmauld Place. Arthur reached for the door and turned to his son. “I’ll try to hold off Mum for you.” **** She was not to be held off. “Ronald! Merlin’s beard, what happened to you?!” Molly rushed to her son, squeezing him in a bear hug and taking his face in her hands. “Oh my stars, just look at you!” His face was pale, his flushed cheeks chapped from the cold. Dried blood remained in the place where his lip was split. “What happened?” “Well, I-” “Well, he-” “Ronald Weasley! You’ve been drinking!! Arthur, you can smell it on him, I’m sure!” Well, yes-” “How could you have done such a thing?! And were you fighting as well?!” “Well, I-” “That’s enough! You get up those stairs and clean yourself up. Then you get in that bed and sleep it off. And when you wake up, I’ll deal with you. You are in more trouble than you can imagine, young man!” “Yes, Mum.” Knowing it was best not to say another word, Ron trudged up the stairs to do as he was ordered. |
Sorry I thought I commented already! Awwwwwwwwwwww i'm sorry for Ron though the Dramione romance is cute :blush: anyway brilliant chapter my dear really nice... I liked the part where Draco went into Ginny's room :rotfl: Draco has really grew on me though not as much as my Freddie :twins2: Keep it up PAMS!!!!! :malfoy: + :hermy: = :loved: |
*plays catch up* And WOW... AMAZING... I honestly don't know what to say, I loved every second of it. It's just so captivating! *sigh* Stef!! you are such an incredible writer,I love it and I love you! And Ginny likes Draco huh? :eyebrows: I don't blame her... he is rather handsome. Lol. Look forward to your next post sweetie!! :glomp: --> PAMS! when you can of course. |
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I had such a laugh writing the Ginny/Draco stuff! I am soooo glad that Draco's grown on you- that's what I wanted, for my readers to give him a chance! You are such a sweetheart! :glomp: |
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You inspire me to be a better writer every day- I can't thank you enough for all the wonderful things you say. And I LOVE that you love my story!! :woot: I couldn't resist the Draco/Ginny part. I mean, who wouldn't like Draco Malfoy standing in a towel in their room?! :lol: Only three more chapters to go...thanks for taking the journey with me, mama. :glomp: |
Hermione and her mother looked up at the sound of Molly’s voice. “Oh Ronald,” said Hermione, “what’s he done now?” She realized she had barely seen him since she arrived at the house. She thought she heard his voice last night, perhaps in a dream. But then she shuddered as she remembered her nightmare. Which brought her to another question. Hadn’t Draco been there? Where was he now? As strange as it seemed, she felt vulnerable without him next to her. Sensing her daughter’s thoughts, Jean said, “Are you looking for Draco, sweetie?” Hermione nodded, looking just a tad bit nervous. “He’s gone up to shower, I think. Would you like me to tell him to come in?” Hermione thought for a moment. Though so much had happened to them, and between them, he was still Draco. Her sworn enemy. He wasn’t an enemy anymore, that was for sure, but what was he now? A friend? More than a friend? Why hadn’t she asked for Ron, or Harry, or even Ginny? Why did seeing Draco seem like the best idea in the world? A few moments later, she sighed with relief as she heard his footsteps coming down the hall. However, when the footsteps became a body and a face, it wasn’t Draco. It was Harry. “Harry!” she cried, “oh it’s so good to see you!!” Harry strode right to her and pulled up a chair. “Hermione, how are you? We were so worried about you. If anything had happened to you…I’m just so glad you’re safe!” Hermione frowned on the inside. If anything had happened to me? Where does he think I was, on a holiday by the sea? She knew she was feeling overly defensive, but Harry just couldn’t understand, not completely. Just like no one would ever understand the daily struggle Harry dealt with. She put a smile on her face. “I’m glad too. There were moments when I feared I’d never see you or Ron again. Or anyone, for that matter. If it wasn’t for Draco, I probably wouldn’t have.” It didn’t occur to her that those words would be the last ones Harry wanted to hear. He stiffened and looked away from her. “Yeah, that’s…great, Hermione. We’re all glad you’re safe.” Hermione gave herself a mental smack in the forehead. Oh, why hadn’t she thought before she spoke? Just because things had changed between her and Draco, nothing had changed for her friends. “I mean that the thought of seeing you and Ron again, and my parents-everybody-kept me strong while I was there.” Just the mention of that horrible place, still painfully fresh, made her want to see Draco immediately. Harry smiled and relaxed at her words. “Is there anything I can do? Or Ron? Please, we’re your best friends. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for you, you know that. Ron wants to see you very badly. He’s asleep upstairs, but I know he’s been missing you terribly.” Her heart warmed at hearing that. Her Ronald. Even though she never knew quite where they stood in their relationship, she still got shivery when he looked at her a certain way, or when he put his arm around her. She had missed him terribly as well. “I can’t wait to see him,” she smiled. Harry hugged his friend, warmth spreading through him that she was back, and everything was returning to normal. His warmth was short-lived. He felt her straighten up, and when he pulled away, relief and happiness were coloring her face. He turned, expecting to see Ron, or maybe Ginny. Instead, he saw the last person he wanted to see. Draco stood in the doorway, looking right past him and directly at Hermione. “How are you feeling, love?” His expression was a mixture of concern and tenderness, a look Harry had never seen on the boy’s face in all the years he’d known him. His insides boiled at the endearment Draco had used. Draco walked right past him without so much as a glance and knelt down in front of Hermione. She was practically beaming. Harry was practically fuming. He held her hand and drank in her face. Her eyes were so pretty. He’d never even allowed himself to see that before. “Do you need anything? Is there anything I can get you? I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. I, uh, had a little business to take care of with the One-Eyed Ogre.” Hermione’s eyes widened in apprehension. “What happened? Are you okay?” Draco smiled and ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “Everything’s fine, I promise. Don’t worry about me. Now, can I get you anything?” She shook her head. “No, just stay here, okay?” Harry bristled. The affection between them made him want to vomit. Then a thought occurred to him. A love potion! That slimy prat slipped her a love potion! Of course; now it made complete sense. He stood up angrily and glared at Draco. Draco stood and faced him. Eyebrow raised, he returned the stare evenly. “Is there something that you need, Potter?” Harry’s cheeks flamed red. “Yes, Malfoy, I need for you get out of here and crawl back under the rock you came from.” “Harry-” began Hermione. “No, no,” said Draco. “Don’t get yourself worked up, Hermione. Potter’s just voicing his opinion. It’s your opinion that matters to me.” He gave her a calming smile. Harry’s hands balled into fists. “Nobody wants you here, Malfoy, can’t you get that? Why don’t you just leave?” “But that’s where you’re wrong, Potter. I believe Hermione wants me here.” Draco smirked at him. “Oh, cut the bull, Malfoy!” Harry thrust his face inches from Draco. “What did you do to her, huh? What kind of love potion did you slip her? Because nobody’s buying this lovey-dovey crap between you!” “Harry!” Hermione retorted. “Now that’s enough. He did no such thing! You weren’t there, you don’t know what he did for me!” “It’s alright, Hermione. Yeah, Potter” he snapped, “I had a lot of time to slip her a love potion while she was being tortured and we were running for our lives. Are you really that obtuse?” “Harry please,” Hermione begged, tears forming in her eyes. “It’s not that way, I swear!” “Oh come off it, Hermione!” he retorted. “He spends one day posing as a hero, and you’re ready to forget all the years he’s treated you like dirt? He and that word on your arm are well-acquainted, if you’ll remember.” He pointed to her forearm and she started to cry. Draco took a threatening step forward. “Don’t you dare upset her, Potter, because I’ll serve you your own heart on a platter.” “That’s enough, both of you!” Hermione panted. She was starting to go pale again. “Harry, I want you to be here but if you can’t stop this, I’m going to need to…ask you to leave.” The words were daggers in her heart, but she couldn’t have them fighting. She couldn’t take any more pain. Draco took a step back and placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. She was breathing heavily, and her forehead was breaking out in a sweat. “Listen, Potter. You are not going to upset her again. Why don’t you run along until you can behave yourself?” And then, just to show his confidence in the situation, Draco simply turned his back on Harry and knelt back down with Hermione. Harry, beyond furious and wounded by Hermione’s words, stormed out of the room. **** “Are you all right?” Draco smoothed the hair from her forehead and took her hand in his. He’d been enjoying the sparring match he was having with Potter until she got upset. Then it wasn’t funny anymore. A fiercely protective streak had shot through him, and he would have beaten Potter to a bloody pulp if he ever made her upset again. Hermione began to cry afresh. “I can’t…take that. Not now. I just can’t, please.” Tears streamed down the sides of her face as she lay back on her pillow. Draco felt a stab of guilt in his heart. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I shouldn’t have kept it going. I never wanted to cause you more pain.” He rested his head on her shoulder. “He was right, though. I treated you like dirt for years; I have no excuse for that.” She rested her hand on the top of his head. “And I already forgave you for that. I don’t want to dredge up the past. I want to make a new start. And I know you do too.” He kissed the top of her shoulder, and rested his forehead on it again. “That’s all I want. I want to make everything better for you. I know that everything is disorderly right now, but…I want to be with you, Hermione.” He couldn’t look her in the eyes, afraid of what he might see there. She brought her arm up and cradled his head. “Everything’s so confusing right now. But I will say,” she chose her words carefully, “that I feel completely at peace when I’m with you.” Beyond that, she wasn’t sure what she wanted yet. Now he did look at her. “You will always be safe with me, that I promise you.” Determination sparked in the steel of his eyes. She sighed and closed her eyes. “I do believe that, Draco. And it means more than I can even tell you.” **** Harry slammed the door to the room he shared with Ron. “That filthy, miserable son of a banshee! I’m gonna kill him!” He walked over to the wall by the bathroom and punched it hard, guaranteeing a bruise on his hand. “Wha-?” Ron managed a single syllable in his hung-over state. He winced at the volume of Harry’s voice. “Malfoy, that’s what! He's turning Hermione against us! She just kicked me out of the room where they are!” Ron sat straight up, his foggy brain clearing at a miraculous rate. “He what? She what?” Harry paced across the floor at the foot of the bed. “I was with Hermione and Malfoy showed up. He went to her as if I wasn’t even in the room! We got into an argument- no surprise there- and then Hermione started to cry. I was about to take his head off for it when she asked me to leave the room!” He sat down on the edge of the bed and slammed his palms on the mattress. Something inside Ron snapped at that moment. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and gave him enough power to stand up. He quickly donned clothes and marched to the door. “What are you going to do?” Harry asked nervously. He didn’t like seeing Ron in his act-before-thinking state. “Maybe we should-” “No!” he hollered. “I’m going to end this now. I’ve had enough of him- he’s done for.” He threw open the door and made for the stairs. “Wait! Don’t upset Hermione! She isn’t well!” But Ron was already nearing the bottom of the staircase. Harry hurried after him and followed him into the parlor. Ron nearly lost it right there. Draco’s head was on her shoulder; she was resting hers on top of it. He stood there, seething, and the two at the couch looked up. Hermione’s eyes widened in fright. “R-Ron! Please! I want to talk to you! Don’t do anything!” Ron never took his eyes from Draco, who stood up, guarding Hermione. “We’ll talk, Hermione. But first I have to take out the trash.” He advanced on Draco, who looked positively vicious. Draco closed the gap between them in seconds and planted the side of his fist into Ron’s chest. He could already hear Hermione crying, and it infuriated him. “Not here, you ignorant fool. Not in front of Hermione, or don’t you give a damn about her feelings in this?” “Don’t I give a damn about her feelings…” Ron repeated incredulously. “You bloody mother-” “Stop it! Stop it all of you!” screamed Hermione with more strength than she should have exerted. “Stop hosing down this room with testosterone! Doesn’t anyone care what I think?” Draco answered, though his eyes never left Ron. “Of course, Hermione, we all care. I’m sorry. We’re going to take this conversation outside.” And he put some force behind his fist to push Ron backward. “Don’t take it anywhere!” she pleaded, though she knew they were all past the point of no return. “They have to sort it out, Hermione,” Harry replied. “No they don’t!” argued Hermione, but her voice was getting weaker as she quickly tired out. “Please, please boys. Don’t be stupid.” But her words held no more strength. She fell back against her pillow and closed her eyes, fatigued tears dripping from them. Draco’s voice was deadly. “Turn around. Outside. Now.” For once, Ron didn’t argue. He wheeled himself around and headed for the back door in the kitchen. The three incensed teens blew through the kitchen where Arthur and Kingsley had sat down for a game of wizard chess. The men looked up from their game, and each drew an uneasy breath as they caught the look on the boys’ faces. “What exactly are you boys doing?” Kingsley’s deeply resonant voice filled the room. None of the boys wanted to stop and explain. Finally, Harry replied, “Just sorting some things out, that’s all,” and continued out the door. The men looked at each other and decided to keep an eye on the “sorting out”, in case it got out of hand. Fan-bloody-tastic. Draco swore silently as he stormed down the three steps that led to the house’s backyard. Mad-Eye hadn’t given him his wand back yet. This was one fight in which he really needed to be armed. Well, too late for that- he’d have to rely on speed and quick thinking. Otherwise, he’s going to clean up the backyard with my face. He and Ron squared off, Harry remaining slightly off to the side. Ron drew his wand and waited for Draco to do the same. When Draco just stood there, he began to get irritated. “Take out your wand, Malfoy! Unless you’re afraid of getting killed in a duel.” Draco let out a short laugh. “It astounds me that you always think so highly of yourself. I hate to disappoint, but my wand is currently in Mad-Eye’s possession. So there wouldn’t be much of a duel, would there? Now I myself don’t mind taking you on with my bare hands. But if you’d feel more comfortable with your wand…” It was so easily predictable to push a Gryffindor’s buttons. “I don’t need a wand to beat you, Malfoy,” barked Ron as he tossed his wand to Harry. “My fists can more than handle the job. And I’ve been waiting for this for years.” And without another word, Ron launched himself at Draco. The first move was easy to dodge. Draco simply moved to the side and almost chuckled as his attacker fell and cracked his shins on the steps. But Ron sprang up like nothing had happened and tackled Draco at the waist, bringing both of them down hard on the frozen ground. Draco felt the side of his face connect with the unforgiving earth, and pain exploded across his cheekbone. He couldn’t pull away from Ron’s strong grip, so he threw his head back as hard as he could into Ron’s face, feeling the crunch of Ron’s nose behind him. Ron let go and roared in pain, blood streaming out of his broken nose. Draco took the opportunity to scramble away and get back on his feet. No sooner had he did this than Ron was on him again, shoving him back to the ground. He moved his head to the side, dodging Ron’s fist as it came crashing down where his face had been mere seconds before. He responded with a knee to Ron’s stomach, which did little harm but afforded him the chance to roll out from under Ron’s grasp. But he wasn’t fast enough. Ron grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into the ground, causing Draco to momentarily see stars. He felt Ron’s knee in his back and knew the boy was grabbing for his arm. I am so close to being completely screwed, he thought as his mind searched for a countermove. He pulled his arms under him and used them to push up as hard as he could, while rolling his body toward Ron, causing the redhead’s knee to slide off and knocking him off balance. Ron landed on the other side of him, and Draco got to his feet fast. He planted a swift kick to Ron’s ribs. Ron cried out and grabbed his side, rolling onto his back. Draco lifted his foot to bring it down hard on Ron’s stomach, but Ron reached up and grabbed his leg, twisting it and sending him crashing back to the earth again. The two were fairly evenly matched. Where Ron used force, Draco used quick thinking. Where Draco had speed, Ron had brute strength. They continued to spar, throwing punches and landing kicks, wrestling each other to the ground. Draco was actually surprised that Potter wasn’t joining in. It barely registered to them that they were attracting a crowd. Fred and George had come outside, remaining on the perimeter but ready to spring should the need arise. Ginny had run out too, and was screaming for someone to stop them. Arthur and Kingsley came slowly down the stairs; they were once boys, and both remembered that sometimes the only way to settle a dispute was to duke it out. Draco was getting tired. He still wasn’t fully recovered from the ordeal at his home, and he needed more rest than he’d gotten thus far. He was starting to worry that his endurance wouldn’t hold up. And, Merlin’s beard, Ron was strong! He’d underestimated the Weasel’s capabilities. He threw an elbow into Ron’s sternum, and launched himself backward. He landed solidly on his feet and leapt to the side to come at Ron from a better angle. He pounced on Ron, using both arms to pin his enemy in a strong headlock. Ron struggled against his grip- he found that he’d also underestimated Draco’s ability- but being the youngest of six brothers gave him more than enough experience. He grabbed Draco around the chest and threw them both sideways down to the ground. Draco momentarily lost his grip when he landed, and that was all Ron needed. He pinned Draco’s shoulders to the ground with his knees and proceeded to pummel him in the head. There was nothing Draco could do to stop the assault. Ron had bested him, and now he was going to pay for it. He felt his own nose break as a result of a well-placed punch and spat out a great glob of blood from his mouth. He could hear Ron screaming at him. “Don’t you touch her! Don’t you ever come near her! I’ll kill you! Call her what you really think of her! Call her a Mudblood! Go ahead, call her a Mudblood, I dare you!” Ron landed several punches into Draco’s stomach and began pounding on his ribs. Draco heard the sickening crack of the bones in his ribcage before he felt the searing pain. Unconsciousness was threatening to steal him from the world. “All right, we should step in,” said Kingsley. He took a step forward and was halted by Arthur’s arm. “Not yet, wait just a moment.” Kingsley noticed that Arthur seemed to be watching the fight with a tad more enthusiasm than called for. “Let him finish.” “You mean, let them finish, don’t you?” Kingsley eyed Arthur warily. It was true. Arthur was enjoying this fight. Kingsley had just put his hand on Arthur’s arm when a shrill voice pierced the air. Ginny was livid. “Somebody stop this!! What is wrong with all of you?! STOP THIS!!” She’d had enough of the males around her just letting Ron beat the absolute tar out of Draco. What if he actually killed him? She whipped out her wand, pointed it and, using all her strength, bellowed, “STUPEFY!!” Ron flew back with such force that he hit the tree in the yard 4 metres back. He was out cold. Ginny raced over to Draco, more to check for a pulse than anything else. Harry watched her, distress and anger in his face. “How could you all stand around and let this happen?!” she yelled at those around her. Her father and Kingsley were gently lifting Draco off the ground and carrying him into the house. Ginny glared at her brothers, and at Harry, that they could be reduced to such heartless barbarism. She marched into the house behind her father, tears replacing anger. Harry went to Ron and revived him; Fred and George came over to check on their brother. “What happened?” Ron asked, still feeling a little disoriented. “You won,” Harry told him firmly, his heart still stinging from Ginny’s reaction. |
WHY ISN'T HERMIONE'S WORD GOOD ENOUGH! GET OFF DRACO! Pams! |
[Jean found her daughter crying in the parlor. “What’s the matter, sweetie? Is something hurting you?” “They’re f-fighting,” sobbed Hermione. “Ron and Draco, and Harry. Over me.” She buried her face in her hands and curled up in a ball on the couch. Jean knelt down beside her, alarmed, and tried to comfort her. This was the last thing her daughter needed right now. She stayed next to Hermione and held her as she cried, just as she did when Hermione was young, after she’d accidentally knocked an egg out of a bird’s nest in their tree. She only left Hermione’s side when she heard voices coming in from the back door. Hurrying to meet them, she clapped her hands to her mouth when she saw Draco. “Oh my God, what happened to him?” she whisper-yelled, not wanting Hermione to overhear. Kingsley’s face was somber, Arthur looked more than a little guilty, and Ginny was crying. Jean rushed to Ginny’s side as the two men began taking Draco to the parlor. She stopped them in their tracks. “Are you mad? Don’t take him in there! Do you know what that would do to Hermione?” “Sorry, Jean,” replied Arthur contritely as he and Kingsley turned to levitate Draco up the stairs instead. Ginny put her arms around Jean and simply let it all out. She cried out all her fear and frustration at having watched the horrific fight while Jean stood and mothered her. “Where are Harry and Ron?” she asked, terrified at the thought that they looked as bad as Draco, or worse. “I-in the backyard,” Ginny hiccupped, and began to dry her tears on the sleeve of her shirt. Jean sat her down at the kitchen table and went to look outside. She noted that Ron looked a bit worse for wear, but Harry was in perfect condition. She felt a mother’s anger welling up inside her over what had happened to Draco. As the boys traipsed back into the house, she and Ginny glared at them. Jean didn’t trust herself to speak, so she remained silent. The boys, to their credit, looked sufficiently remorseful. Hermione heard footsteps outside the parlor door. “Ron? Draco? Harry?” she called out, frightened to see what they all looked like. Harry and Ron stepped into the parlor. Hermione quickly looked them over. Harry didn’t have a scratch on him. Ron’ lip was split in more places than before, and the dried blood on his face complimented his broken nose. The rest of him seemed fine, but she couldn’t tell for sure. “Oh God, Ron! What happened?” “You know what happened,” Ron replied, sounding quite apologetic. “Where’s Draco?” she asked. She didn’t care if they liked him or not, they were going to send him into see her. She swallowed hard as Harry and Ron looked nervously at each other. When they didn’t answer, her nerves began fraying. “Where is Draco?” she asked again, fear and anger in her voice. Ron just looked down at his feet. Harry rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, and tried to find the right words. “He’s, uh, he’s just taking care of uh, a few, minor things…” She wasn’t buying it. “No, Harry Potter, you tell me the truth! Where is Draco? What did you do to him?” Her voice was wavering now, barely holding back a sob. Neither boy knew how to answer her. No matter what they said, she’d be upset, and they already felt more than terrible for upsetting her in the first place. “Ron beat the living hell out of him, that’s what he did!” The accusation came loud and sharp from Ginny’s mouth. She looked at the two boys furiously, a few tears still dribbling down her cheeks. “Ginny!” gasped Ron. “Don’t get her upset!” “UPSET?” cried Hermione. “Ginny, don’t get her upset?! YOU have me upset! Both of you!! How could you? How could you hurt him? He’s the reason I’m alive, you heartless idiots!” She broke down completely and Ginny rushed to her side. “Hermione,” Harry said softly. “NO!” she cut him off. “Get out! Get out the both of you! I can’t believe you, I can’t believe you would…oh, just get out!” The boys left with their heads hung low. “Ginny, is he going to be alright? I need to see him, I need to be with him!” Hermione was going into hysterics. She gripped Ginny’s arms and tried to raise herself off the couch. Ginny held her back. “No, please, Hermione, not yet. He’s upstairs. I’ll take you myself to see him, I promise, but let him get patched up first, okay?” She held onto her best friend’s arms and gently but firmly laid her back down on the couch. Hermione simply pulled her knees up to her chest and cried. Jean was at her side a moment later. She rubbed Hermione’s head with one hand, and Ginny’s back with the other. She would be the strong one for these girls. She’d watch over Ginny until Molly came back later in the afternoon. She kissed her daughter’s temple and whispered, “It’s going to be all right,” and hoped she was telling the truth. **** The rest of the day was anxious and tense. Fred and George Apparated home to tell Molly what happened, and decided to stay there rather than witness what would occur when their mother got her hands on Ron. Kingsley headed back to the Ministry. Remus and Tonks had arrived, and both were enraged to hear what had occurred. Tonks rushed her cousin’s side. Molly Apparated into the Black home the moment her sons finished filling her in. A pop was heard in the kitchen, and Molly came rushing into the parlor. Her heart sank as she saw Jean comforting two very upset young ladies. She walked over to them and Ginny stood up, throwing her arms around her mother and starting to cry again. “It was so awful, Mummy,” she whimpered into Molly’s shoulder. Molly just held her. “There, now, we’ll fix it, sweetheart. Where is he?” she asked. Jean looked at her. “Ron or Draco?” Molly’s face hardened. “I’ll deal with my son later.” Then it softened. “Right now I want to see Draco.” Jean told her where to go and she exited the parlor, her large purse clinking with potion bottles. Hermione had fallen asleep, completely done in by the stress of the day. Ginny looked back at her, pondering what to do now. “Go Ginny,” Jean said softly. “She’s resting now anyway. I’m going to stay here. I’ll let you know when she’s up.” Ginny nodded her head and left, plodding slowly up the stairs. As she reached the top, she could already hear her mother saying, “Oh for Merlin’s sake, just look at the boy!” She sighed and headed for her room to lie down and shove a pillow over her head. **** Everything hurt. It hurt to move, it hurt to open his eyes. It hurt to breathe. He winced at the sharp pain that accompanied Molly’s mending of each bone. Every muscle in his body ached. Damn it, didn’t he just get them relaxed earlier today? His face was swollen, and he couldn’t get the coppery taste of blood out of his mouth. Even if he could have opened his eyes, he wouldn’t have. He didn’t want to see the troubled faces of those attending to him. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to answer their questions. He just wanted to be left alone. The only thing he thought about was Hermione. His heart sank that she must be distraught over what had happened. They really were stupid boys, just like she said. He added another apology to the already lengthy list of apologies he owed her. He pretended to be unconscious when his cousin rubbed healing balm on his cheeks and chest. He could hear her speaking in low whispers with Molly and Remus. “And they just let this happen?” “Believe me, my husband has as much explaining to do as my son!” “His body will mend, but I’m worried about the blow to his spirit. He won’t admit it, but he’s as fragile as Hermione right now. He’s been through hell and back. Mad-Eye told me everything he saw.” A surge of anger and humiliation shot through Draco. So now Lupin knew his most private memories too? He was affronted that he couldn’t even choose to keep his own secrets. He didn’t want them knowing what it was like for him at home. His ordeal with Ron had reminded him of a time in his parlor when he was eight, and he’d lied to his dad about breaking a vase. Pinned to floor and having his face beaten. The recollection hit him, brutal and unmerciful, and his stomach lurched. He fought hard against the impulse to vomit. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was fragile right now. Tonks’s lips were on his forehead, and she was stroking his hair. He fought with all his will not to cry in front of her. But he was so tired, and in so much pain, that he couldn’t hold back. Tears of shame and sorrow leaked from behind his closed eyelids. “Oh! Oh, sweetheart,” she said, and gently wiped the tears from the sides of his face. “Is he coming to?” asked Molly, returning to the bed and leaning over him. “Draco, dear, can you hear me?” There was no point in pretending now. He squinted at the light as he opened his eyes and immediately looked away from them. He’d salvage whatever scrap of dignity he had left. “I just want to be alone,” he whispered, the strain of talking hurting his head. The women fussed over him, insisting that they stay and help him. But Remus, from a man’s perspective, understood. “Let’s just give him a bit of time to himself; he’s earned it.” He ushered Molly and his wife out of the room and quietly closed the door behind them. Draco’s tears were now of gratefulness. **** Shouting could be heard in some of the bedrooms upstairs during the afternoon. Ginny and Harry, Molly, Ron and Arthur were having it out over the events of the day. Harry was furious with Ginny for sticking up for Malfoy; Ginny was enraged that Harry could be so insensitive. Molly was reading the riot act to her son and husband, who knew from experience to just shut their mouths and take their punishment. Hermione was blissfully asleep through it all. Tom had returned from work, and he and Jean sat in the parlor, drinking tea and listening to the row upstairs. They stared at their baby girl, feeling only tenderness and love and, above all, thankfulness that she was with them again. Jean couldn’t stop thanking God; she prayed over and over, pouring out her gratitude and love for the Creator who protected her little girl from death. Tom fretted over Hermione’s delicate state, but couldn’t help but be proud of how strong she was through it all. They turned to the doorway and welcomed Tonks and Remus to join them. It was already evening when Hermione awakened. Jean fixed her a plate of chicken and potatoes and brought her some hot chamomile tea. Hermione sipped it slowly, letting the herbed liquid soothe her. After she’d eaten, she turned to her parents. “I want to see Draco now.” Her parents looked at Remus and Tonks. Remus answered. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Hermione. He took a few serious blows out there. He needs his rest and you do not need to be more upset.” “I’ve been thinking about that,” she replied. “But I’m only going to be more upset imagining what happened to him than if I saw him with my own eyes. I won’t disturb him, I promise. I just need to see him.” The adults gave her a cautious nod of approval, and Tom helped her up the stairs. She wasn’t prepared for what she saw when the door opened. A cry caught in her throat as she looked at him. He looked worse than terrible. His bare chest was wrapped tightly with bandages around his ribcage, and his lip was cut and badly swollen. His head was bandaged as well, and bruises covered every inch of what she could see of him. She was…there were no words for how she felt. She rushed to the side of his bed and climbed in, wrapping her arms around him carefully and letting her tears fall on his shoulder. “I’m staying right here,” she announced. Tom began to protest, but Jean placed her hand on his arm. “They need each other right now.” The adults quietly left them alone. In the end, Hermione did leave him but only briefly. She hadn’t had a chance to bathe since she arrived the day before. Once she was clean, she snuggled back next to him. He felt her there, smelled her, and hoped to heaven he wasn’t dreaming. He slowly opened his eyes and his pain dissolved at the sight of her. “You’re really here,” he said simply. She nodded into his shoulder. “Yes, I’m right here.” She kissed his collarbone and squeezed him just a tiny bit tighter. He kissed the top of her head, not caring that the action shot pain through his lips. Just to spite the pain, he kissed her again and again. “Stay with me,” he whispered. “I will,” she whispered back. |
Hey! New reader!! I've only read through ch 34, but.... so far it's really good. Now I can honestly say that I usually really don't like Hermione/Malfoy romance. It takes the right writer to even partially convince me of it, since I LOVE Ron/Hermione stuff. And oddly, you have convinced me. I don't know how, but for your story you have convinced me on their relationship... for now. I cannot deny that I will still hope for Ron and Hermione. But, for now, I suppose I will have to be content. *sigh* Great job!!!! :D -Rachel :) |
Finally got through it all! Very good job!! -Rachel :) |
Quote:
I was really blown away by your comment that I actually convinced you of a believable Hermione/Draco romance!!! That is huge for me- I'm really touched. Hope you enjoyed the fact that Ron got to beat the *!@(#% out of Draco! ;) I had written a hilarious scene about Ron at the Leaky Cauldron getting into the pub fight, but it was a little out of SnitchSeeker bounds. Shoot! :P There's only ONE MORE CHAPTER... and I'm putting it up tonight! I'd love to hear what you think of the ending, so please comment if you can. Again, thank you so much for reading my humble story and writing your lovely compliments!!!! :glomp: |
8 Jan. The morning routine was busier than usual. Trunks were packed in haste, animals collected into their cages, tickets placed safely in coat pockets. Leaving time for King’s Cross Station was in little over an hour. The kitchen was frenzied, full of teens and adults alike reaching over each other to grab the orange juice and pass the butter. The only noticeable difference was the uncomfortable silence between Harry and Ginny, who were still refusing to speak to one another. Upstairs, Hermione stirred in her place next to Draco. She heard the level of activity and did a mental calculation of the date. Merlin’s beard! It was the day they were all returning to school. She sprang out of bed too fast and sat back down quickly, trying to stop the spinning of the room. Her motions woke Draco. “What is it? Is something wrong?” he asked in a tired whisper. “Today we go back to school! I haven’t packed anything!” she cried, steadying herself on the post of the bed as she attempted to stand again. Draco regarded her with surprise. “Hermione, you don’t actually think they’re going to let us go back to school today,” he said. “Well, of course they are! We can’t just stay here and miss class. We can rest there and still be able to keep up with homework. We can help each other.” Draco sat up in bed with a great deal of effort. “Hermione, slow down. We can’t go back to school,” he said quietly. She stopped moving. “What do you mean, we can’t?” He sighed and looked her in the eyes. She didn’t understand. But then again, how much experience did she have understanding the ways of dark wizards, other than the past few days? “Hermione, it’s not safe for us there right now,” he said with some difficulty, his newly-mended ribs making it painful to speak. “Even though Hogwarts is one of the safest places, there are too many possibilities for trouble. My father’s not going to rest until he finds us. The Dark Lord may have dispatched a great number of Death Eaters with the sole command of bringing us to him. That is something you never want to experience,” he said darkly. “But-we have to sit for our N.E.W.T.’s, and we’re learning Apparation, and I have so much to accomplish there,” she protested, pushing away the new reality she was faced with. It hurt him to see her so distraught, and know that his words would only cause her more pain. Why is it that I still keep causing her pain? “Hermione, please come here. Just for a moment.” She turned back reluctantly and sat on the edge of the bed. He took her hands in his. “Hermione,” he began,” we’ll figure something out about school. Nothing will get in the way of you learning whatever you wish to learn. But, right now, our very presence could bring danger to everyone at Hogwarts, and we can’t risk that.” Frustrated tears formed in her eyes as Draco poked holes in every argument she could think of. He was right. There would be no Hogwarts for them. Not now, and perhaps not ever. The latter was something she couldn’t bring herself to consider. She sat on the edge of the bed with her head down, and let her future fall away from her in the form of defeated tears. Jean entered the room and found her daughter crying and Draco rubbing her back, regret painted on his face. “What is it, sweetie?” “We can’t g-go, can we?” she hiccupped, hoping to heaven that her mother would contradict her. Jean’s face fell, and she joined Hermione on the side of the bed. She knew what a terrible blow this would be. “No, baby, not right now. It’s just not safe.” “B-but it’s my sixth year, and I was preparing for… I had so many dreams…and they’ve ruined everything!” she cried out. Draco hung his head in the bed. That’s what my family does best. Ruin everything. “We’ll find a way,” Jean soothed her, “you’ll still learn everything you need, I promise.” Hermione stood up. “I need to be alone for a moment.” Draco looked anxious at the thought, but Jean knew her daughter’s way of dealing with bad news. “Of course, sweetie. We’ll just be here if you need us.” Hermione left the room without another word and slammed the door behind her. Jean turned to Draco; he looked so distressed. She placed her hand on his arm. “She’ll be all right. This is her way of dealing with things.” He shook his head. “She shouldn’t have to deal with any of this. This is crueler than nearly everything she went through at the Manor.” He refused to call it his home. Jean cringed at the mention of it. She squeezed his arm and replied, “She’s going to need all of us to help her get through this.” He looked up into her eyes. “She will always have me.” Jean leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on the temple. “And you will be most important to her.” **** Hermione ran into Ginny in the hallway. Ginny already knew; she flung her arms around her best friend and cried with her. “I’m going to miss you so much!” she whimpered. “This isn’t fair!” Hermione looked at her friend. “Life isn’t fair, Ginny.” She stroked Ginny’s hair, soft and shiny from its recent cleansing. She could smell the citrusy scent of her friend’s shampoo. How much she was going to miss that smell in the early morning of the common room. The thoughts of everything she was losing were hurtling at her, one after another. She squeezed Ginny’s arm. “I have to go now. I’ll see you off.” And with that, she made her way quickly to the hall bathroom and wept. **** In an instant, it seemed, it was time to leave. Harry, Ron, and Ginny stood in the hallway leading to the front door of the house. They were each carrying knapsacks and levitating their trunks behind them. Arthur was starting the car and Molly was flitting about, making last-minute checks in case anyone forgot something. Jean had come down to help, and was carrying Arnold, Ginny’s pygmy puff and Pigwidgeon, Ron’s owl, in their cages. They heard Hermione come timidly down the stairs. Holding her head high, she blinked back her tears and exhaled. She could do it; she could see them off. She gave Ginny another huge hug. “You’d better owl me every day!” she ordered. Ginny remained stoic as well; she wasn’t going to let her tears set Hermione off again. Hermione took a deep breath and looked toward Harry and Ron. She was still furious with them, but she knew she’d never forgive herself if, God forbid, something happened and she never saw them again. She couldn’t let their last words be in anger. “Goodbye, Harry,” she said simply, giving him a hug. “Be safe, alright? And please owl me.” Harry choked up a bit. “Of course, Hermione. I’m so sorry.” She nodded her head and moved over to Ron . This was ten times harder. She was ten times more angry with him. She stood on tiptoe and gave him a hug, but there was barely any feeling in it. It was the best she could do right now. “Study hard and don’t wait until the last minute to start your assignments. Be careful on the Quidditch pitch, too. Have a good term,” she managed. He hugged her back, his eyes filled with sadness. “I’m really sorry, Hermione.” She nodded her head and closed her eyes to keep her emotions at bay. “I know.” Arthur came in from the cold. “Everyone ready? It’s time to go.” Hermione stepped back and let them all pass through the door, with Molly following. Molly paused and took Hermione’s face in her hands. “We’ll fix it, we will.” She patted her cheek and followed her brood out of the house. Hermione was left alone in the hall with her mother. Jean put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I’m so very sorry, honey.” Hermione said nothing as she watched her life leave without her as the door closed. **** Jean spent the rest of the day taking turns checking on Hermione and Draco. At first, Hermione had donned her coat and scarf, and sat by herself on the backyard steps with a cup of hot cocoa. She didn’t cry; she simply stared off into space, contemplating what her new future would hold. A future without Hogwarts. When it became too cold to stay outside, she had moved into the parlor, choosing the couch Jean and Tom had slept on rather than the one that reminded her of how she arrived. She held a book in her hand and absentmindedly turned the pages without absorbing any words. What would she do now? What would her purpose be? These were the thoughts that filled her mind as she sat in the parlor. Jean brought her some grilled cheese and tomato soup, and sat there to make sure Hermione at least took a few bites. Then she took an identical tray upstairs. She knocked on Draco’s door and waited to see if he was asleep. He called her in. “Herm-?” His face fell a bit. “Oh, hello Mrs. Granger,” he said politely. “She’s down in the parlor, having lunch. I brought you some as well.” She helped him to sit up and placed the tray on his lap. He immediately picked up his spoon and slid it into the soup. It was creamy and spiced with basil, and it warmed him all the way down to his toes. It caused him to do something quite uncharacteristic: he said thank-you. “Well, you’re very welcome, dear,” she answered and smiled at him. For all the arrogance and bravado she’d heard about him, he seemed more soft-spoken and shy. She realized that she had an awful lot to learn about the young man who took on the job of Hermione’s guardian angel. “We’ve been quite preoccupied with Hermione’s well-being; how are you faring, darling?” Draco winced. His mother called him darling. She felt a million miles away from him right now. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and sighed. “I’m fine. No one needs to worry about me.” Jean gently rubbed his arm. “Well, we do. I do. And Hermione does too. You are a hero, sweetheart. I owe you everything. You brought my child back to me! Do you know how much it hurts a mother to be separated from her child?” At once, Draco’s whole body tensed and his face went deathly pale. Alarmed, Jean reached for him and he pulled away from her. He was shaking. Jean thought back through the last things that were said and could have killed herself for the blunder she’d made. “Oh! Oh, Draco, how thoughtless of me! I’m so sorry! Your mother- I’m sure this has to be so hard on the both of you. You must miss her so much. And she doesn’t even know that you’re safe, does she?” He shook his head. His breaths came whistling through gritted teeth as both the physical pain and the emotional anguish overtook him. “We fought. The last thing we ever did was fight with each other.” He buried his face in his hands. “I want my mother,” he whispered almost inaudibly. Jean slid a tentative hand around his shoulders. “When Hermione gained her family back, you lost your own.” She closed her eyes as tears cascaded down her cheeks. She wanted to gather up this boy and hold him in her lap and make everything better. “We will find a way to bring your mother to you somehow; that will be my personal mission. But, until then, I will always be here for you. I’m a poor substitute, I know, but I’ll always be here." She scooted closer to him on the bed and gently wrapped her arms around him. He allowed her to hold him, partly because he was too weak to push her away and partly because he needed to be held. His tears burned hot on his face and dripped from his chin to her arm, and she held him tighter. It struck him that he was being comforted by a Muggle mother, the polar opposite of his own. And it didn’t matter- the arms of a mother always feel loving to the child held within them. I love you, Mum. Someday I’ll make all of this up to you, I swear. Someday we’ll be free and safe, and I’ll love you the way I meant to, the way you deserve. She waited until he was ready to let go, then sat back and smoothed the hair from his forehead. He looked so young. She kissed him on his head and stood up from the bed. “Eat up, or your soup will get cold,” she said as normally as she could manage. “I’ll be back soon.” She closed the door behind her and headed to the very same bathroom in the hall that her daughter had used just a few hours before. And, just like her daughter, she had a good cry there, too. **** That evening, as the sun set over London, the members of the Order of the Phoenix met at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. There were important matters to discuss. Dumbledore called the meeting to order. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are here to decide the best possible course of action to take regarding Hermione and Draco. Certainly, our number one priority is to keep them safe. But what shall we do beyond that?” Ideas were offered, discussed, rejected. But slowly, a consensus began to build. Each member voted, and the ayes heavily outweighed the nays. The group made their way up the stairs to the room Hermione and Draco were in. The two looked up in surprise as the entire group of adults crowded into the room. Dumbledore spoke first. “I know that the two of you are aware of the danger you’re facing. It will not be safe for either of you to be seen for quite a while. I’m sure that this is discouraging and frustrating, but it is necessary. Now Hermione, I know that missing school is devastating to you, so I’ve arranged to Apparate you both once a week to Hogwarts to be given your lessons in private. No one except the teachers will know you are there.” Hermione perked up at the news. “May I have all of the textbooks here?” Dumbledore smiled. “Yes, and I’ll throw in a few of my favorite books too.” Hermione closed her eyes and smiled. It was something, at least. “Thank you so much, Professor. It means the world to me.” The old wizard grinned at her, then turned to Draco. “You have had a lifetime of experience with the Dark side of magic, and I am sure you have been privy to some of the plans of Voldemort and his regime.” Draco shuddered. “If you knew half of what I know, what I’ve seen…” “That’s exactly what we want to know,” replied Dumbledore. “Which is why we are prepared to offer you membership into the Order of the Phoenix.” Draco looked confused. “The what?” Dumbledore smiled. Aha. So Hermione didn’t tell him about the Order. Smart girl, as always. “The Order of the Phoenix. We are a special society of wizards and witches who are dedicated to stopping Voldemort’s advances and to defeat him once and for all. This isn’t just a regular house we stand in- it is the Headquarters of the Order. I am the founder of this allegiance, and everyone you see before you are brave and dedicated members. If you have truly turned your back on the ways of Dark Magic, and the plans of Voldemort, you could be of great help to us.” Draco shook his head. “But how could you trust me with something like this?” “You will of course begin with a probationary period of time, where you will be mentored and monitored to ensure your heart is in the right place,” Dumbledore replied. “I know it won’t be easy for you, but nothing worthwhile comes easily. We believe in you, Draco, and we want to help you. Will you accept this offer and help us as well?” Draco looked at the faces in the room. Some were beaming with encouragement. A few were somber and uncertain. He turned and looked at Hermione for her reaction. She tenderly held his hand and smiled at him. “I think this is where you belong. I want you here. Accept the offer and be protected. And then help us like you helped me. Can you do that?” Draco took a deep breath. Accepting meant his decision was final, that he was turning his back on his family and the only way of life he knew. It meant fighting against everything he was taught to fight for. But one look at Hermione convinced him that there was no other life he wanted than the one with her by his side. “Yes- I want to help,” he replied, his heart hammering in his chest. He was choosing again- it was an amazing and terrifying feeling. He took another deep breath. “I want to join and help in any way I can,” he said, new-found conviction strengthening his voice. Hermione squeezed his hand and put her head on his shoulder. He could scarcely breathe. Is this what doing the right thing feels like? A stream of affirmations rippled through the adults, and Kingsley had just taken a step toward Draco when there was a knock at the door. “Sorry I’m late.” Draco turned toward the voice and saw the very last person he expected to see. Severus Snape stood in the doorway, his usual apathetic expression altered slightly by the hint of a smile. Draco’s mouth fell open and he gaped at the man, confused beyond reason. “But you- but I thought- wait, I don’t understand-” “Severus has been working for us for many years,” explained Dumbledore. “He has taken great personal risk to act as a spy on the inside of Voldemort’s army, supplying us with vital and timely information.” Severus looked at his nephew (for that is what he felt for Draco) and smirked at the boy’s comical expression of disbelief. “Surprise,” he said flatly. Dumbledore beckoned him into the room. “Severus, will you do the honors?” The black-cloaked man nodded and stood before Draco, who was still reeling at the revelation. “Come here,” he instructed, and Draco obeyed. Severus brought up his wand and placed the point of it on Draco's chest, just above his heart. As he spoke, the wand's point began to glow a soft red, illuminating Draco's skin. “Will you, Draco Malfoy, provide to the best of your ability, aid and support to the Order of the Phoenix? Do you turn your back on the ways of Dark Magic? Will you, to the best of your ability, work to rid the Wizarding World of any evil that threatens it? Will you give your very life for this cause?” Draco hesitated a moment, pondering everything that was asked of him. His very life? But then again, he’d give his life for Hermione in an instant. Why wouldn’t he give his life for a cause that would keep her safe from harm? He met Severus’s eyes and held them fast. “I will.” Again, there bloomed a hint of a smile from his uncle’s face. The soft red light disappeared and Severus placed his wand back in his cloak. Draco felt almost light-headed, taking in the full measure of what he’d just agreed to. Tonks was the first to give him a hug, followed by a warm handshake from Remus. Mad-Eye gave him a pat on the shoulder that made his whole body hurt, and Molly kissed the top of his head. He’d never seen so many people smile at him. It felt so good he couldn’t even speak. He looked at Hermione. She had tears in her eyes, but they were joyful. She leaned forward, unabashed, and kissed him. Draco knew in that moment he had made the right decision. He was proud of himself, really proud of himself. Maybe, just maybe he could begin to believe that he had something worthwhile to offer the world. For the first time, he felt no fear that his actions would harm him. He had chosen what was right, and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. So here I am, getting teary-eyed as I copy the last few words of my story. It has been such a journey for me, and I'm so grateful for all of you that took the journey with me. Your words of encouragement have meant the world. I am currently in the very basic stages of writing the sequal (don't we want to know if Draco and Hermione truly fall in love? And what about his mother- will they see each other again? What will Draco's life be like within the Order? And what will happen as Lucius's rage fuels him on a tireless hunt for his traitor son?) All that and more are coming in Part II! So thank you again, my lovely lovely readers- it has been an honor and a privilege to write for you. Love, Stefanie :love: |
Oh My gosh :cry: I'm so sad Draco's so sweet :loved: I thought it was so cute the way you ended it :glomp: *tears up* :bye: |
Steph!!!!! OMG it was soooooo good! The ending was really good, but I'm sad since I just started it! :cry: Quote:
Steph!! This story was AMAZING!!! And I have LOVED it!!! And I will miss it, especially since I just started reading it. :cry: So I will say bye-bye... :bye: For now..................................... :whistle: -Rachel :) |
OMG! The story was great! :D I read it all in one go! Its surely amazing! Keep it up!!! :) :) :) |
What a great way to end! I was in tears reading the end! Poor Draco, and Narcissa. (Yay, Sev popped up [oo-er] again!) I wait eagerly for Part II Sarah-Jane xx |
Naaaww that was so sweet and touching! Such a fantastic end to your story!! :loved: Thank you soooooooooo much for sharing this with us, I loved it immensely. :glomp: -Emily |
Hey Stef, I read this whole fic in the last 2 days and I couldn't stop myself from commenting. I absolutely loved it! LOVE LOVE LOVE! Everyone was so in-character and I love your writing style. I usually don't enjoy reading Dramione centred fics but gaaah I loved this one so much. I'm starting to ship them now :D :love: I cannot wait for sequel. And congrats on the Golden Goblin! |
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