Coveting Madness

Disclaimer: The things that I've changed are mine. Everything else belongs to J K.

A/N – Because the response to Stark Raving Mad shocked me so, I wanted to carry it on. It was originally going to be a one-shot, but then Draco just wouldn't stop. There isn't any citrus in this chapter, but the second and final chapter will be up soon and will contain that lovely fruit. :)

Chapter One – The build-up

Inside his head, Draco Malfoy was screaming.

He hurled his denial at the walls of his mind, raging, yelling, shouting, doing everything he could to drown out the words the Gryffindor standing in front of him was pleading. She stood there with her hands clasped in front of her, expression twisted and tears swimming in her beautiful brown eyes.

Her eyes had been the first thing he'd noticed about her all those years ago. Sparking with life and fire, heated with contempt and what at the time he'd thought was smug superiority. He'd hated that. How dare she, a plain-jane, know-it-all, mudblood bookworm, feel superior to him? He was a Malfoy! A pureblood! She should be licking his boots, not lording her intellect and keen magical skills over him!

His views had changed as he'd gotten older, and he realized sometime during his third year that what he was spouting were his father's words, not his. The look in her eyes had changed as well, turning from smug superiority to confident cleverness, pride and a devil-may-care attitude towards what other people thought of her. He wasn't sure when he realized that it had been like that all along. Maybe sometime around the time she slapped him. All he knew was that he admired it, and her, though he'd hid it behind taunting insults and sneers.

That admiration had abruptly turned to savage lust at the beginning of their sixth year. He had no idea why, she didn't look any different, still tall and willowy with next to no curves to speak of. But all of a sudden, he'd wanted her. Badly.

So, he'd set out to have her.

A school year later, he was standing there, roaring at her in his head. He'd had her, yes, but at some point it had become more than that. Much more. She'd become his. Or she had been, up until now.

She was leaving him.

She was choosing Golden Boy, St. Potter, over him.

Though Draco screamed his anger, his horror over what she planned to do, his flat out denial that she was actually going to do it, nothing of this showed on his face. His expression was blank and calm, his eyes cold and as empty as he could make them. He would not show her how much her choice was hurting him.

Killing him.

"Draco, please, say something!"

"What would you like me to say?" he asked coolly, expression bored. Hermione's choked laughter sounded more like a sob as she reached up to rub the bridge of her nose.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe something along the line of, 'I support you and I'll be waiting for you when you get back'?"

"You want me to lie?"

Because he didn't support her. Not in this. Not at all. This 'mission' of hers and Potter's and Weasley's was foolhardy and dangerous and could get her killed in a heatbeat. He didn't know the details, he didn't want to know. But he did know that it was so fucking Gryffindor, it made him sick to think of it.

She didn't have to do this. She didn't have to leave him and go with Potter to save the bloody world. She wanted to. And that was what was tearing him apart.

He was determined she'd never know of the cottage he'd purchased for the two of them, where he would have taken her and kept her safe. She'd made her choice.

That choice wasn't him.

"No! I want you understand! Understand why I have to do this! Why I don't have a choice! Harry needs me!"

So do I, he thought but didn't say. Would never say. He was already too close to begging as it was.

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Granger. You can't always get what you want."

Hermione growled and tugged at her hair in frustration. "Bloody hell, Malfoy, you're my boyfriend! You're supposed to be on my side no matter what!"

Draco cocked his head slightly, the raging in his mind escalating. "Pity that definition doesn't fit me anymore."

Hermione gasped, face draining to white. With bones that felt like glass, Draco turned and began to walked away.

"But… I thought you loved me."

The whispered words make Draco stop dead, his fisting hands the only hint of the emotions he was feeling, the only sign of pain he'd shown since the Gryffindor had told him she was leaving.

Leaving him.

"And I thought you loved me."

With that, he casually strolled away from her, away from the crowd left over from the funeral.

As soon as he was sure he was out of sight, he began to run.

~0~

Draco Apparated to Malfoy Manor, stopping only long enough to check on his mother. He could not stay there. There was a high chance that sometime in the future, his boyhood home would become the base of the Dark Lord, and he wasn't going to be there when it happened.

Though he'd never openly come out and stated his opinion about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, he wasn't the loyal follower that many of the school thought he was. Truth be told, Draco was on the fence.

He had been even before his thing – non-thing now, he thought, mouth twisting as his heart thudded dully in his chest – with Granger had started. His family had worshipped the Dark Arts for centuries, and Draco took pride in the long, aristocratic history of the blood in his veins. When you were drowned in a set of beliefs since the day you were born, you were predisposed towards believing them. It was only as he grew older that he started thinking for himself. Granger had helped there.

How could be possibly consider muggles and muggle-borns inferior and second class when he had an amazing, heart-stopping muggle-born witch in his bed?

How could she be a mudblood when she was the most beautiful, alive thing in his life?

She was just so… bright. Her smile, her laugh, the look in her eyes when she lectured him about a subject she loved, the way she was constantly curled up with that bloody boring book, the feel of her lips pressed urgently to his, the sounds she made when she came…

Draco shook his head and scowled. This… this pain he was feeling was completely unacceptable. She didn't want him. Not anymore.

But, fuck, did it hurt to be thrown away. To have another chosen over him.

To have Potter chosen over him.

He'd always known it was going to happen at some point or another. How could it not? Granger and Potter were two peas in a pod, infuriatingly close. He'd never been worried about Weasley, the redheaded fool was too much of an simpleton for his Hermione, but Potter… he was another story.

Another story altogether.

He knew she'd been keeping secrets from him, but that was okay, because he was doing the same with her. She never knew that the only reason he wasn't a Death Eater, the only reason why he didn't have that Mark on his arm, was because his mother had pleaded with the Dark Lord and had been severely punished for doing so. She never knew that the task Snape had been giving, the one he'd carried out, was supposed to have been Draco's – would have been if he'd had the Mark. She also didn't know that the only reason he'd fixed that Vanishing Cabinet was because it was the only way to stop both his father and the Dark Lord from torturing his mother daily.

Draco loved his mother quite desperately and was constantly pleading with her to leave with him. Her answer was always no.

Yes, there were many things he'd kept from Granger. Things he'd been on the verge of trusting her enough to reveal. No matter now, though.

She wasn't his anymore.

He was on his way out of the Manor when that thought came to him. He once again stopped dead, staring blindly at a priceless Ming vase sitting on a delicate looking desk in the hallway.

He was picking up that vase and throwing it before the action even registered.

The smash brought him round, making him realize that his chest was heaving with something that was almost like a sob, his heart bulleting and limbs trembling. After a few deep breaths and a curl of his lip at the betrayal of emotion, he turned and left the Manor.

It said a lot about what the occupants of the house were used to, that no one, human or house-elf, came to investigate the loud crash.

~0~

Draco spent the summer alternating between the Manor and Spinner's End. Snape had spoken up for his mother when she'd gone to the Dark Lord and begged for her son to not be initiated yet. She'd pleaded that he be allowed to finish school first. Nobody knew why the Dark Lord had eventually agreed.

Draco had his suspicions about the Potions Master, though he was wise enough to never voiced them. He'd been there when Snape had killed Dumbledore, had even unwillingly disarmed the old man for him, but Snape had made him promise never to reveal that fact to anyone. The only reason he'd been there in the first place was because Bellatrix hadn't given him a choice. Though he still yet didn't know which side of the line he fell – he could see benefits on both sides – he was a bone-deep Slytherin. If it was a choice between death and compliance, his life always came first.

There were only two people he'd ever consider changing that decision for. One of them was now out of his reach.

Snape knew about Draco's relationship – past relationship, why was that so hard to comprehend? – with a certain Gryffindor. When things had begun changing, Draco had had to have someone to talk to. Once he'd found out, the Professor had made it clear that he didn't approve. He hadn't told anyone, though. He'd listened, given his opinion and then walked away. When Draco had later asked him why he hadn't forbidden him from seeing the witch, Snape's eyes had fogged with memories. He'd said that it not only wasn't his place, he also knew what it was like to harbour affection for the forbidden. He'd then warned the boy to be careful and nothing more was said on the subject, though Draco caught him watching them a time or two, the intensity of his stare surprising the Slytherin.

Draco didn't hear about the attack on the Weasley wedding until it was already in progress. He was sitting in Snape's house and staring into the gloom, mind blank, when the Potions Master came to tell him that the three had escaped. He looked up at his Professor and gave a single nod before getting up and leaving the house without a word.

Later, Snape would find a destroyed garden shed and his mouth would pull in displeasure and surprisingly, a little understanding, before he would begin cleaning up the mess.

The trio weren't seen at all during the rest of the summer months, though Snape kept Draco up-to-date on reports of Death Eaters surveying Sirius Black's inherited house – or at least the place the house should have been. All too soon, it was time to go back to Hogwarts.

The Slytherin got on the Hogwarts Express with a conflicted heart and a deep desire to keep to himself. The train almost seemed empty without the three well-known Gryffindor's in residence, and once he stepped through Hogwarts doors, he realized that the same could be said about the school as well. With a hair-trigger temper and bitter antisocialness hanging over him like a constant shadow, Draco attended his classes and only spoke to his fellow students when he didn't have a choice. He tried his best to avoid both his Dark-supporting Housemates and the Light supporters as well. He just wanted to get through the year without any friction.

Snape was now the Headmaster, and Draco received an owl on the third day back, written in the new Headmaster's handwriting.

They infiltrated the Ministry. All three got out alive.

That was all it said. It didn't mention anything about injuries. The parchment crumpled in Draco's hand and after Vanishing it, he abruptly got up and left the Hall.

At the end of the day, the Professors would grumble amongst themselves, cursing the Death Eaters who now inhabited the school. It was well known that they loved destruction, but did they have to take it out on the Trophy Room? The place had been trashed!

~0~

The first time Draco helped someone, it shocked him as much as the person he'd helped.

Though Snape was Headmaster, the two to watch out for were the Carrow's. They were brother and sister and they lived to torture students. One gloomy day, Draco came across the female, Alecto, doing exactly that.

"You stupid, insipid chit! I should kill you right here and now!"

"Please, please, I'm sorry! I won't-"

"Crucio!"

The girl's screams echoed off the walls and Draco found himself speeding up, almost running. He rounded a corner and skidded to a halt, to see Alecto holding her wand on a blond Hufflepuff – Hannah Abbott. The girl withered on the floor, mouth open wide as she screamed, streaks of pain and exhaustion lining eyes that were already coloured black from previous 'discipline.'

Alecto turned as he approached, releasing the Unforgivable. She smirked cruelly, her victim collapsing onto the cold concrete, whimpering to herself.

"Draco. Come to have a go? It's fun, look! Crucio!"

The Slytherin watched, teeth clenched as Hannah screamed again. The sound was hoarser this time, but still just as horrific. He swallowed hard, head whipping around when Alecto began to giggle madly.

"Yes, yes, scream, my little one, scream! Show me those tonsils! That's it, louder, loud-"

"Stop."

Draco didn't even realize he'd spoken until his hand was on her arm, jerking her wand down. Hannah gasped on the floor, tears rolling down her cheeks, eyes clouded. Alecto gaped at him.

"What are you doing?"

"The Headmaster will not like it if you kill a student. All that paperwork would be extremely tiresome."

"But I won't kill her! Just drive her mad a little!"

"That will be just as bad. You've punished her, you must stop now."

Those bordering on insane eyes narrowed. "You sound like you want me to stop."

Draco let a smirk spread across his face. "Didn't you mention something about having a go?"

The Death Eater laughed and clapped her hands in glee. "Yes! Go now, go!"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Not now. Those with patience get the biggest reward in the end. It'll be more satisfying if she's always looking over her shoulder. More… fun."

"Oooh, you are you're father's son! I told Amycus you were! I was right!"

"Yes, whatever," Draco said, waving his hand in dismissal. "You should go. I'll deal with her."

"But-"

"You've had your fun, now go! It's my turn to scare her witless, and I don't need an audience!"

Alecto reluctantly left, grumbling about Death Eater children with big heads. She kicked the Hufflepuff as she was passed, who groaned and curled in on herself. Once they were alone, Draco stared down at her for a moment and then his mouth twisted in sour acceptance. He drew his wand and, ignoring the violent flinch from the girl on the floor, pictured a laughing bookworm in his head.

"Expecto Patronum."

His Patronus burst from the tip of his wand and began to swim lazily around him.

"Get Longbottom and tell him to bring healing potions. A lot of them."

He gave the location and the silvery creature was gone in an instant. Draco crouched down slowly, watching the girl he'd just stupidly rescued. Hannah whimpered and tried to edge away from him.

"Please… please don't hurt me."

He sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you. Just wait and don't move. Longbottom will be here soon."

The too-skinny witch blinked at him. "You said… you said you would… so it's fun…"

"I lied."

Those pained brown eyes surveyed him for a moment and then relief and gratitude warmed them, reminding him of another pair of brown eyes. He grimaced and pushed that thought away. The memories had their uses, but that was done now. The time to reminisce was over.

"Why… why are you helping me?"

Draco settled against the wall and looked over at her again. She was staring at him, suspicion and curiosity gradually overtaking the gratitude. He scowled at her, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I have no bloody idea."

They didn't speak again until the sound of running feet reached them and Neville Longbottom threw himself down beside the Hufflepuff. Draco got to his feet and turned to leave them to it.

"Malfoy."

He glanced back over his shoulder and arched a brow. Longbottom was watching him closely.

"An otter?"

The Slytherin scowled again, turned and walked away without another word.

~0~

It became a pattern. He would hear screaming and when he could, which wasn't often, he would go and interrupt. He hated the fact that he couldn't seem to stop himself. He lived in the fucking snake pit, for Merlin's sake, if one whiff of what he was doing reached the wrong ears, he was a dead man. Yet, he still did it.

He was mad.

Stark, raving…

The Christmas break came and went, Draco taking the opportunity to escape the hellhole his school had become. Not that the Manor is any safer, but at least there he can get more up-to-date reports on the bloody trio. Every non-answer he got, every angry, terrified snarl lightened that horrible, heavy load on his heart.

Because if they can't find them, they can't hurt her.

Or kill her.

He spent time with his mother, avoided his father as much as possible and then made his way back to Hogwarts.

Months past and Draco continued to try and keep a low profile. By now, the rebel students in the school knew what he was doing – or trying and failing not to do. He found himself being followed and began to expect an ambush. He didn't know if it would be a friendly one or not, just as he had no clue whether he would welcome a friendly one or not. The Easter holidays arrived before he could sort it out in his head, and he left for the Manor.

The days were slow and Draco spent a lot of them outside on the grounds. Bellatrix and Greyback had taken up residence in his home, if he could call it that, and he deeply despised both. His aunt was bat-shit crazy and the werewolf…

At least Lupin had tried to be as human as possible. That… thing wouldn't know humanity if it was a bludger that hit him in the head!

He was just coming back in one evening when he heard the screaming. Two sets. One he was unfortunately used to and the other…

The other stopped his heart in his chest.

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?"

"We found it – we found it – PLEASE!"

"CRUCIO!"

She screamed, and for the longest time, Draco was unable to move. Horror and disbelief had frozen him in place, a buzzing, roaring wind in his ears blocking everything else out. She screamed again and his heart screamed with her, the pain in her voice atrocious.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no!

"Tell me, girly, tell me! Crucio!"

"Please… please…"

The screams gradually sunk to choked, moaning whimpers, and it was this that got Draco moving. She sounded broken. His aunt had broken her, his Gryffindor. That was… unacceptable.

He shot down the hall, drawing his wand as he entered the room. His eyes met Hermione's and held for two second before all hell broke loose. Potter, Weasley and a bloody house-elf burst through the door leading down to the cellar, and the next few minutes were a mess of confusion and pain. His aunt grabbed Hermione and held a knife to her throat. Potter, thinking Draco was attacking instead of helping, disarmed him before he could react and then began attacking the others in the room. Weasley tried to inch his way to Hermione, Draco quickly doing the same. He could feel brown eyes fixed on him, but couldn't afford the distraction of meeting her gaze. He could stare at her all he liked once she was free of the insane sycophant holding her captive.

Suddenly, a creaking noise broke through the din and Draco looked up to see that house-elf fiddling with the chandelier. It creaked again and then came crashing down. Bellatrix shrieked and threw herself to the side. Draco did exactly the opposite and threw himself towards Hermione.

He slammed into her and covered her body with his as the glass smashed everywhere, including right on top of him. Her steady gaze was his anchor when it landed, the heavy weight and razor-sharp edges making him jerk, grunt and hiss in pain. Hermione blinked at him slowly, her skin all but translucent and her beautiful eyes dull. Draco scowled and ignoring the screaming roar of his wounds, lifted his hand to brush his fingers over her cheek. Her eyes brightened slightly and she turned her face into his hand.

"I am extremely irritated with you right now," he muttered in a strained voice, still scowling as he caressed her soft, fragile skin. "What the fuck were you thinking, getting yourself caught?"

"Malfoy," she murmured faintly, eyes fluttering closed. "I lov-"

The glass on top of him moved. Draco was suddenly hurled backwards and thrown across the room, crashing into the wall and landing in a heap. He groaned as he turned over, the glass in his back and legs now driven in further. The world slowly fuzzed at the edges, fading in and out and spinning and twirling sickly. He coughed a few times and did his best to ignore this, wheezing out a couple of breaths and trying to focus. After what seemed like millennia, his efforts paid off as, over the horrendous pain, he could just make out her voice.

"Draco! No, stop, he's hurt!"

"Hermione, we have to go!"

There was a loud crack. Draco groaned again and with the last of his strength, reached for a stray wand lying near him and he got himself out of there as well, Apparating back to the edge of Hogwarts grounds. He would no longer be welcome at the Manor, just as he would no longer be welcome in Slytherin House.

He'd given himself away when he'd saved her life and now he had nowhere else to go.

A shadow crossed over him. Draco blinked dazedly up at the Headmaster.

"Stupid boy."

Snape reached down and yanked a large piece of glass from his thigh. Draco yelled hoarsely and the world went black.

When he woke up again, he found himself looking into Longbottom's eyes.

"They're alive," he gasped, making the boy above him jerk in surprise. "They're alive and I want in."

~0~

It was hard at first. His injuries took a long time to heal, as Madam Pomfrey couldn't make too many trips to see him, and he definitely couldn't go to the Hospital Wing. Apart from one, none of the school overseers knew he was there, and once he was able to get to his feet again, he realized he was stuck. He couldn't go anywhere in the school. He was stuck in the Room of Requirement.

Holed up with a bunch of suspicious, mistrusting rebel students.

He tried to keep a low profile, but that proved to be impossible as most of the students wouldn't let him. Many of them thought he'd only chosen their side because the other side had chucked him out. Only Longbottom and the Weasley bint knew the truth. He lost count of how many sneak attacks he had to endure – even some that weren't so sneaky. He couldn't defend himself either, as he'd grudgingly handed over the wand he'd taken from the floor of the dining room when Longbottom had demanded it.

That wasn't to say he didn't use his fists when the attacks weren't magical. He was well aware that these students were scared and angry, and that he was a handy release for that anger, being a Malfoy and all, but he wasn't going to stand there and let them pummel him.

He was in the middle of one of those releases when the tides turned on him. He was doing his best to defend himself against two angry wizards – and not doing a very good job of it, but what do you expect? He was a pureblood, for fuck's sake! – when his attackers were blasted back.

"Right, I've had enough of this! Leave him the bloody hell alone!"

Draco peered through swollen eyes at his rescuer and his mouth dropped open. The Weasley chit was standing next to him with her wand out, eyes sparking with anger.

"But, Ginny! He's a fucking wanker! A pureblood, poncey snake! He'll turn us in the first chance he gets!"

"Seamus Finnigan, you absolute git! He's known about us for ages and he didn't turn us in then, did he? And it would be barmy for him to do it now! He'd be as much on the chopping block as we'd be!"

She turned to the room, her long red hair cracking with her annoyance. "Everybody, listen up! Malfoy is out of bounds from now on! If I see anyone even think about coming down on him, they'll have me to answer too!"

She turned back to the boys on the floor. "That goes for you too, Seamus! And Ernie! I expected better of you! You're a bloody prefect!"

"What the hell does that matter?" the Hufflepuff growled, getting to his feet and scowling, wiping blood from his mouth. "He's a fucking Death Eater and he deserves everything he gets!"

Ginny strode forward and yanked at Draco's arm, shoving his sleeve back. "Do you see the Dark Mark? No? Then how can he be a Death Eater? Get your prejudice heads out of your arses, both of you! That's what we're supposed to be fighting against!"

The two boys grumbled and slunk away, throwing vicious looks over their shoulders at Draco. The Slytherin sighed and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, letting his head drop. He started slightly when a hand lifted his chin.

"You're not alone in this, you realize," Ginny murmured, lifting her wand and mumbling something under her breath. Draco sighed again as the pain in his face lessened. "One of my best friends, my brother and the man I love are out there. Asking for help won't kill you."

Draco stared at her and repeated the question someone else had asked him months ago. "Why would you help me?"

The witch pursed her lips and turned his face from side to side, nodding in satisfaction before meeting his eyes. "You saved Hermione's life, you helped us and she trusts you. That's good enough for me."

Draco snorted, unable to help the sneer that twisted his mouth. "Is naivety supposed to be a Gryffindor trait?"

"No, but seeing the good in people is."

He snorted again. "You'll have to look deep for that, Weasley."

The rebel leader cocked her head, hair falling over one shoulder. "Two years ago, I would have agreed with that statement. Now, I'm not so sure."

Then she got up and walked away, leaving Draco staring after her.

It got better after that. Not right away, of course, but slowly the Light witches and wizards began to tolerate his presence. It helped that Draco found something that helped people and that he surprisingly enjoyed doing.

It was Looney of all people who introduced it to him. The girl had somehow made it back to Hogwarts and was now stuck in the Room along with the Draco. The two of them only had a couple of second-years for company when Lavender came running in one day, carrying a tiny blood-soaked figure in her arms.

"Neville! Ginny! Merlin, please, help!"

"They aren't here at the moment, Lavender," Luna said as she hurried over, her airy voice calm. "Put her down, now."

Lavender carefully lowered her burden and Luna knelt down. Her head swivelled and Draco started when her gaze pinned him. "Draco, I need you."

He scowled. "What?"

"I need your help. She needs immediate attention and I cannot do this on my own. I'm not strong enough."

"Brown can help you."

"Lavender is hurt as well," Luna said and for the first time Draco noticed the way the girl was holding her side, her expression pained. "She will not be able to do anything until she is healed. You must help me."

"I don't know any healing spells. Nor do I have a wand."

"I have one you can borrow and I will teach you the spells. Please, Draco. She doesn't have much time."

The Slytherin hesitated and then slowly got to his feet. Relief flickered through Luna's eyes as he made his way over to her. She quickly got up and he watched with a frown as she approached one of the walls, tapping it with her wand. A door appeared in the concrete and it opened to reveal a box-like compartment. Draco's eyes widened in surprise when he saw the bundle of wands stored within. The Ravenclaw grabbed one, came back and handed it to him, then pulled him down.

"Normally, you would try them all until one finds you, but we haven't time for that at the moment. Your spells won't be strong anyway, as you have never done them before. But they should be enough. Now the spells…"

She showed him what to do and then they both set to work, Lavender watching anxiously, trying not to sway. A weird, foreign warmth tugged at Draco's gut as gradually, the multiple cuts on the first-year's torso slowed and then finally stopped bleeding. The wounds didn't close, but they healed enough to save the girls life. Eventually, Luna sat back, pulling her wand away, and following her lead, Draco did the same.

"She should be fine now. Thank you, Draco. You just gave her another chance."

The warmth in his belly spread to the rest of his body as Draco stared down at the now sleeping girl. He'd just helped save a life.

For the first time in a long time, Draco Malfoy felt proud of himself.

After that, he tried to help as much as he could. He was shocked when they let him keep the wand, Luna saying it wouldn't have worked so well for him if it didn't suit him. People protested, but Luna overruled them, shocking Draco again.

Seems the flighty, barmy Ravenclaw wasn't so off her rocker after all.

Two months past, and then suddenly, everything changed.

~0~

He was sitting in a back corner with Luna, devising ways to get at the Carrow's, when the painting on the wall changed from scenery to portrait. He'd taken to spending a lot of time with the Ravenclaw. She still lived up to her nickname, acting loony and warped most of the time, but Draco found that if you listened hard enough, what she said made a lot of sense. It helped that he also couldn't escape her, no matter how much he wanted to at times.

Neville went to speak to the girl in the painting and then the frame swung open and he was gone. He came back ten minutes later, but this time he wasn't alone. To everyone's delight, stepping out of the passageway with him was Weasley, Golden Boy Potter and…

Hermione.

Granger. Hermione.

Sweet Merlin… Hermione.

The cheers in the room dulled to nothing, so that the only sound Draco could hear as he mechanically got to his feet, his shocked gaze locked on the figure across the room, was the frantic pounding of his heart. A fine tremble spread through his limbs and his breath hitched in his throat as he stared, drinking her in. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was… beautiful.

Even thin as a rail, covered in dirt and something that looked a lot like blood, hair tangled and burnt in places, she was beautiful.

He took a step forward and then stopped, torn. Would she want to see him? Scowling, he hurriedly stepped back. Of course she wouldn't! His aunt had tortured her, for fuck's sake! She must hate him!

"Don't let the past overshadow your future, Draco," Luna murmured, her hand on his arm. She squeezed it gently and then made her way through the crowd, stopping at Hermione's side. The Gryffindor hadn't looked around yet, still in deep discussion with Neville and Ginny. The Ravenclaw tapped her on the arm, accepted the hug when Hermione pulled her in, and then turned and pointed.

Right at Draco.

Granger followed her arm and Draco couldn't stop the strangled, helpless groan that came from deep in his throat when their gazes clashed. Her eyes widened and he took another step forward, the movement involuntary, before once again freezing in place.

"Draco."

He couldn't hear the word, as she'd whispered it, but he'd seen her lips form his name so many times, he couldn't not understand what she was saying. He took another involuntary step, still lost in her eyes.

Eyes that were rapidly filling with tears.

"Draco."

He heard it that time, and the broken moan in turn broke him. He was shoving his way through the crowd before he realized he was moving.

She met him halfway and the moment his arms locked around her, her face pressed into his neck as her body shook with sobs, the world was right again.

"Draco. Draco, Draco, Draco, I love you, Oh Merlin, I love you, you're all right, I thought you were dead, I love you so much, Harry said it could just be because the Room isn't on the Map, I love you, you were so hurt, I love-"

"Granger."

She looked up, cheeks wet.

"Shut the hell up."

He jerked her up on her toes and crushed his lips to hers.