NOTE: My first Dramione! Hopefully it measures up!
CHAPTER 1
Draco Malfoy's welcome to the new Order of the Phoenix headquarters was not a warm one. The very instant he crossed that godforsaken threshold he was greeted by more than one immobilizing spell and ear splitting shouts of alarm, quickly followed by no fewer than three wands pressed roughly into his throat.
"HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?" Ron Weasley was shouting at him, never mind the fact that he couldn't answer even if he wanted to. Draco would have rolled his eyes if only he could move. "We have to get out of here," someone else was hissing, "We've clearly been compromised."
The roar of chaos overtaking the small room was drowning out Hermione Granger's hasty shouts of reassurance- it was actually quite impressive that so few people could make such an alarming amount of noise. Draco was rapidly beginning to doubt Granger's hesitant promise to protect him; when Ron kicked him onto the floor and drew back his wand, shouting in fury, he was certain he was going to die right there on the filthy kitchen floor. At least HE can't get to me if I'm dead, he thought bitterly to himself. Just as he was silently wishing he could close his eyes and shrink away from his impending doom at the hands of Weasley, the wand flew from Ron's hands and he was knocked backwards against the table with a deafening crash. At last, the kitchen fell silent.
"Wehaven'tbeencompromised," Granger said, all in a rush. She was holding her own wand in her right hand and Weasley's in her left. "…Ibroughthimhere."
Almost instantaneously, Ron was shrieking again. This time Potter joined in. "You WHAT?" "He's a DEATH EATER!" "He KILLED DUMBLEDORE!"
Perhaps even worse than the yelling was Remus Lupin's soft "Hermione, I truly never believed you, of all people, could be so irresponsible." Draco would have collapsed if he hadn't already been lying immobile on the floor. He had known they wouldn't accept him, not after Dumbledore, but… he had hoped, if only for a moment…
"If you lot would just LISTEN!" Now she was the one shouting. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see her nearly shaking with nerves (and probably rage.) "He's defecting," she tried to explain. "Where else would he go?"
"Right, that's convenient, isn't it? His little task of murdering Dumbledore didn't gain enough favor with Voldemort, is that it? So now he's running away to try and be a hero to the other side? It's a little fucking late for that, Malfoy," Potter said with venom. Draco cringed. "And have you forgotten, Hermione, what he and his people have done to you? He's called you Mudblood for the past six years, made your life a living hell. What the bloody hell were you thinking?"
"We are supposed to be saving people, Harry, isn't that what this entire damned war is about? And he didn't kill Dumbledore, in case you've forgotten-" "As good as-" Weasley started to interrupt, but Granger plowed right on, speaking through gritted teeth. "Maybe if you'd just let him explain, like he did to me, you'd… you'd…" She shook her head and wordlessly released the spell that held him immobilized; Draco just curled into a smaller ball, squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his back against the row of cabinets behind him. He was trying very hard to forget how many times he had trembled on the floor of the Manor like this, shrinking into himself as he was punished.
The Order members surrounding him all stepped closer, crouching defensively with their wands outstretched.
Potter immediately started in on him again. "Look at you, cowering on the floor, you ARSE-"
"He was going to kill my mother," Draco choked out. He hadn't even opened his eyes.
"Right, so one threat against your Death Eater mother makes it okay for you to murder plenty of other innocent-" Draco didn't even have his wand on him, but he was off the floor and leaping towards Weasley before he had even finished the sentence, fully intent on causing harm. "SHE'S MY MOTHER," he was shouting, still shouting, even as Hermione used magic to force him and Ron each down into separate kitchen chairs with hands in lap, immobile once again. At least this time he was off the floor.
For the second time since he had entered the safehouse, everything fell (nearly) silent. The only sounds were Ron Weasley's enraged spluttered expletives and Draco's panicked, tear-choked breathing. They all just stared at each other for several long moments, until Remus shook his head, cursing quietly, and strode into the hallway. They all heard the low sounds of muttered shielding and silencing charms being placed around the kitchen entrance. When he returned, he pulled out his own chair and sat across from Draco, looking at him expectantly.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy," he said. "You have a very short amount of time to give the lot of us a reason that we shouldn't ship you right off to Azkaban. Make it believable."
Draco felt his chin quivering and he hated himself for it, hated the bloody Dark Lord for turning Draco Malfoy into a frightened, traumatized child. When he didn't immediately answer, Harry glared at him and added, "We'll know if you're lying." Hermione looked at him encouragingly and he hated her for that, too. He hated himself for lapping up his father's bullshit for 17 years, for taking the Mark because how could he not when that thing was living in his own house, for agreeing to kill Dumbledore, for running like a child to Hermione fucking Granger, the very person he had spent the last six school years tormenting. He hated everything, but he knew if he didn't speak quickly, he'd be in an even worse predicament than frozen to a chair, so he started to talk. Everything poured out of him in a rush.
"…And then I was on the tower, there, and I needed to just kill him but I couldn't do it. I couldn't." He shook his head jerkily, unable to press the tears from his eyes with his hands frozen in his lap. Draco hated himself for crying. "Snape did it and was rushing me away and I just knew I had killed my mother, because just like he said I failed, at everything. I couldn't even finish a mission when my mother's own life depended on it, and… he tortured me Potter, I thought I was going to die too." He swallowed thickly and stared at the floor as he struggled to choke out the rest of his story, tracing the dirty cracks with his eyes: a distraction so he didn't have to listen to himself talk. "He told me I have a new mission now, now that Snape's betrayed you. He wants me to be his new spy. And if the information I bring isn't good enough, he's going to kill her." He finally looked up, silver bloodshot eyes meeting Harry Potter's penetrating green ones. "He's going to make me watch."
"What makes you think we would ever let you leave this place again? You're betraying your own side as we speak. Not to mention you just admitted to being a spy." Harry kept staring at him. At least he had stopped with the shouting.
"I'm not actually going to spy! I don't want to go back there," Draco said, horrified. "I want to get my mother out and stay the fuck away from the Dark Lord for the rest of my life, I-"
"Voldemort," said Harry. "Don't fear his ridiculous name."
"If you'd been as close to him for as long as I have, Potter, you'd fear him too."
"Who are you and what have you done with Malfoy?" Ron demanded. "That tosser wouldn't be caught dead sharing his feelings with Harry Potter, much less a room full of Gryffindors."
Draco clenched his teeth and bit back the insult he wanted to hurl back at Weasley. He was at these people's mercy; he might as well play polite. Mildly polite, anyway- a few tears didn't totally cure him of the desire to insult Ron Weasley. "I wouldn't be sharing any feelings at all, especially not with you, Weasel, if my life didn't quite literally depend on it. I'm surprised you lot haven't Avada'd me yet, to be frank."
"Oh, because that's what you would have done, is it?" demanded Harry. Draco felt the blood drain from his face again.
"He hasn't killed anyone, you know." The words were quiet, and Draco found himself silently thanking Granger, even as he hated her. "I know how you all feel about him- believe me Ron, yes I do- but if there wasn't any good left in him, he wouldn't be sitting here." Potter and Weasley were both staring at her: the former's expression unreadable, the latter's one of flushed incredulity. Remus Lupin, however, had fixed Draco with a calculating stare.
"We aren't going to kill you, Mr. Malfoy," he said levelly. "Hermione is right. We are fighting this war to save people. Including those who have found themselves on the wrong side of the battlefield." Draco blinked a few times in surprise and relief before the man continued. "That does not mean that I trust you. I believe what you've told us tonight, sudden as it may seem. I am, however, concerned with your tendency to dart from one allegiance to the next based on what suits your need," he said bluntly. "What value do you have to the Order of the Phoenix, Draco Malfoy?"
Draco lifted his chin defiantly. "I'm going to provide information, of course."
"What kind of information?"
Before Draco could respond, Hermione cut in, speaking directly to Lupin.
"Remus," she said quietly, "When Dumbledore… Before he… died, he gave us a mission. Harry, Ron and I. Malfoy might… he has information related to that. For us."
The man looked at her coolly. "Should I take that as a dismissal?"
"No, no!" She said hastily. "It isn't… It's just that-"
"The more people who know about this, the more dangerous it becomes, Remus." This time it was Harry who spoke. "But I trust you to hear whatever it is he has to say. It stays in this room." Remus nodded and once again, all eyes were on Draco.
"Horcruxes," he blurted, his sense of bravado gone once again. Merlin, what is happening to me? "I know about them. He has seven, I think. H- He doesn't talk about it but I've heard my… my father, I've heard him say things. I'll find out everything I can for you, if only you'll help me get my mother out of that house-"
"Seven," Harry was saying, "Yes, we suspected that bit already. What else?"
"I know that one is a locket that belonged to Salazar Slytherin. I know you can destroy them with Fiendfyre. And I suspect that my aunt has something to do with another."
"What else?"
"I don't… I don't know. Not about the Horcruxes."
"You said you had the names of some at the Ministry, didn't you?" Granger was prompting him.
"Yes… If I had some parchment-" He hadn't even finished talking before there was parchment, ink and quill on the table in front of him.
"My hands, Granger."
"Right," she said, flicking her wand. Draco curled his fists closed and then open again, stretching his fingers before picking up the quill. With all eyes on him, he started to write. It wasn't long before Harry, Hermione and Remus were huddled on their side of the table, talking in low voices. He tried to ignore the hushed voices of the three sharing the room with him, knew they were discussing him, deciding his fate without even the decency to throw up a quick silencing charm. He focused on the scratching of his quill on the parchment as he wrote down name after name, betrayal after betrayal, sealing his own fate if he ever had the misfortune of being discovered as a traitor.
"…can't just stay here, we don't know if he…"
"…get us more information, only we can't risk letting him know…"
"…legilimency, we could all be signing our own death warrants…"
"…know it's ridiculous but I trust him."
Draco couldn't block out every snippet of conversation; Gryffindors are bloody loud. That last voice was Granger, he knew, sticking up for him again. He didn't like being indebted to her. He didn't like being indebted to anyone, but with her it was worse because she had not a single reason to speak up for him and she did it anyway. The thought made him slightly queasy.
When he finished writing, Draco silently pushed the parchment across the table towards Harry and Lupin, who picked it up and scanned it quickly.
"There's a few on here we didn't know about." Lupin looked up at Draco. "We'll be looking into this, you know."
"I didn't lie," said Draco indignantly.
"For your sake I hope that's true. You're staying here, by the way. We can't risk you wandering freely now that you know where we are, you understand."
"I wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon, trust me. And I don't even know where we are."
"For now, it's best if no one else knows that you are here. Some of the other Order members may react less… rationally than we did, especially with… everything being so fresh. Harry and Ron will show you to a room." Draco couldn't stop the snort before it escaped him. If this was rational…
Ron's mouth dropped open for a moment, but he quickly closed it and snorted in disgust. "I won't have anything to do with him. Someone else can deal with you, ferret." Harry was staring uncertainly from the kitchen back to the stairs, like he knew what he had to do but was searching for some sort of escape. It was only a few moments before Hermione huffed and grabbed Draco by the sleeve of his t-shirt, pulling him up from the chair.
"I'll take him. Honestly, you two are such prats I can't even believe it sometimes." She shoved past the boys and started to drag Draco up the stairs, pulling him by his shirt. It was really starting to get uncomfortable so he tugged it out of her grasp, rubbing the side of his arm where it had chafed at him. She clearly mistook the movement as something considerably ruder. Draco found himself cringing at the hurt look that flashed in her eyes.
"Granger, I wasn't-"
"It's fine. Really." They had arrived on a third story landing, facing three dark wood doors. "Yours will be the left, I hope that's okay." She pushed open the door with one hand and they both walked to the center of the room.
It was a small, plain bedroom. There was nothing personal about it. That made Draco think it was a guest room, and that was probably better. Worn hardwood floorboards stretched across the space and met molding at the walls, which were painted dark green. There was a narrow bed, a dresser, and a small writing desk and chair.
"I thought you'd like the green," Granger said, and Draco looked at her in alarm. That queasy feeling plunged back into his stomach with her words. He swallowed.
"Look, Granger- I wasn't trying to- I didn't pull away because you're a Mudblood-" She flinched and he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"I didn't mean that, either. All I'm trying to say is… He paused, staring at her. "Well… er… I'm, uh…"
I'm sorry I called you Mudblood for six years. I never knew how awful it was and you're the first muggle-born I ever met and all I ever wanted was to impress my father and I thought joining them would do it but he still despises me and now I realize they were WRONG, and-
She raised her eyebrows at him. "And?"
He stood, his mouth opening and closing dumbly, and she laughed.
"It's alright, Malfoy, I get it. You've shared enough feelings tonight to last the rest of your life. Don't hurt yourself."
"Draco," he mumbled at her, just as she turned to walk out of the bedroom.
"What?"
"You can call me Draco. It's my name, you know."
"Oh. Alright. Goodnight then, Draco."
"Goodnight, Granger."
He watched her walk out of the room and start to shut the door behind her. Just before she did, he saw a flash of curly hair as she stuck her head back in through the crack.
This time, he raised the eyebrow at her. "Yes?" he asked.
"Hermione," she said with a timid grin. "It's my name, you know." Before he could respond, the door was closed and she was gone. He sat down on his tiny bed, head in hands, and found himself wondering if she had ever truly been there.