A story by Spirit. :) (no, that's not my real name, Pottermore friends, you'll recognize it!)
Dedicated to Revenge, because he's awesome.
Disclaimer: Does obsessing over something make it yours? I didn't think so either. Therefore, Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.
"Who are you?" the cold voice of Narcissa Malfoy asked.
"You know me!" There was resentment in the werewolf's voice. "Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!"
Draco froze in his armchair. They'd caught Potter? No. They couldn't have. He swore to himself.
"Bring them in." His mother's voice again.
Draco listened to the sounds of the trio being shoved and kicked up the stairs.
"Follow me," said Narcissa, "my son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter then he will know."
Lucius rose from the armchair beside Draco.
"What is this?" he asked gleefully.
"They say they've found Potter. Draco! Come here," Narcissa ordered.
Draco rose reluctantly from his seat. Greyback forced the prisoners to turn again so as to place Harry directly under the chandelier. Draco recoiled slightly, avoiding Harry's eye. Potter's face was huge, shiny, and pink, every feature distorted by the Stinging Jinx someone had obviously placed on him. His black hair reached his shoulders and there was a dark shadow around his jaw. Had Draco not known (and hated) the person who was in front of him for six years, he would not have recognized him. Next to him on either side were Weasley and Granger.
"Well, Draco?" Lucius asked avidly. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"
Draco moved away from Greyback and swallowed. "I can't be sure."
"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer," Lucius said. Draco had never heard his father sound so excited. He knew why, too. Lucius undoubtedly saw Potter as his ticket back into the circle of Voldemort's most trusted Death Eaters. Lucius leaned closer to Potter.
"There's something there," he whispered, "it could be the scar, stretched tight... Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"
Draco forced himself to lean closer to Harry. He strengthened his resolve. He would buy them time. He had to. He needed to.
"I don't know," Draco said in what he hoped was a firm voice, "We would have to wait for the effects of the jinx to disappear." And he walked away toward the fireplace where his mother stood watching.
"We had better be certain, Lucius. You remember what happened to Rowle and Dolohov," Narcissa called.
Lucius stood. "Yes, yes. Take him upstairs, Greyback, before that wretched Bellatrix gets here."
The werewolf dragged Harry out of the room, ignoring the shouts and cries of the others. The light then fell on Hermione.
"Wait," said Narcissa sharply, "wait, yes, that is the Granger girl- I saw her in Madam Malkin's with Potter. Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"
"I... maybe...yeah," he said reluctantly.
"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" shouted Lucius, striding around the bound prisoners to face Ron. "It's them! Potter's friends! Quick, quick Scabior, take the lot upstairs," he ordered, clearly eager not to let Bellatrix get to them. He almost made it. As Scabior dragged the rest of the prisoners up the stairs, the drawing room door opened. The sound of the voice sent chills up Draco's back.
"What is this? Prisoners?" asked the crazed voice of Bellatrix Lestrange, "give them here, Scabior."
Scabior reluctantly stepped aside to let Bellatrix look at the prisoners. She walked slowly in a circle around them. A slow smile was spreading across her face.
"These are... Potter's friends, aren't they, Cissy?" she asked quietly, a mad smile spreading across her face. She stopped in front of Hermione. "This-this is the mudblood Granger. Leave her here, Scabior, and take the others up."
"NO! NO! TAKE ME INSTEAD!" Weasley shouted.
"If she dies, I'll take you next," Bellatrix said nastily.
Draco gave an involuntary shudder, and watched, frozen, as his aunt started on Granger.
"Where is Potter, filth?" Bellatrix snarled.
Granger looked up at her, and, Draco had to admire her bravery, spat at Bellatrix's feet. But, of course, now was not the time for Gryffindor courage. She should be more worried about saving her own neck.
The look of rage on Bellatrix's face could have killed by itself.
"Insolent mudblood! Answer me!" she screamed. "Crucio!"
The drawing room was filled with the sound of Hermione's screams. She writhed on the floor, her face contorted in agony. The spell was taken off of her.
"I'm asking you again- where is Potter?"
"Like I'd tell you!" Granger spat angrily. She was cursed again as soon as the words left her mouth. Her screams filled the room once more. Five agonizing minutes passed. Then ten. And Draco realized that he couldn't take it anymore. The sight of her- her tangled, bushy hair, bloody face, and ripped clothes- made him sick. Shit. He took a deep breath.
"Aunt Bella," he started, attempting his usual sneer, "let me have at the mudblood. She and I go way back."
Bellatrix turned, surprised. Then, a slow smirk appeared on her face. She stepped aside and motioned forward.
"By all means, Draco, do go ahead."
Draco shook his head, smirking weakly. "Alone. This-this is personal."
His aunt let out a cackle. "Get her out of here, then. And you better have some answers when you come back with her."
Draco nodded, and started forward, grabbing hold of Hermione's arm and dragging her behind him. He cringed when she started whimpering. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.
"Shut up, scum!" he said scornfully.
She became silent, resolving instead to fix him with an accusing, hate-filled glare. Merlin, this was the worst. Once they were out of the hall, Draco raised his wand, and levitated her.
"Does it hurt less like this?" he asked quietly.
A look of surprise flitted across her face before she schooled it once more into a mask. He led her up the stairs and into one of the Manor's many empty bedrooms, and then put her gently on the ground. She twitched, and Draco felt a stab of pity. He could relate, after all. Her eyes were still defiant; accusatory. For a moment, he felt the overwhelming urge to gouge her eyes out; then, he took a deep breath. She, Potter, Weasley, and the rest of their idiotic friends were his ticket, after all.
He conjured a glass. "Augamenti," he muttered, and handed it to her. She continued to eye him distrustfully. He sighed.
"We both know you need it, Granger, so just take it."
"No. I have no reason to trust you, Malfoy. You could have poisoned it."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, I didn't. So drink it," he said, "scream," he ordered, almost as an afterthought. To his surprise, Hermione let out a bloodcurdling scream. He nodded approvingly.
"You're still not going to drink the water are you?"
"No," she replied stubbornly, and watched as he raised the glass to his mouth and took a sip.
"I haven't dropped dead, have I? Drink it, Granger."
She took the glass of water and hesitantly took a sip. And then another. And another. Soon, she had drained the glass and two others. And then she screamed, all the while looking at him.
"What made you do it, Malfoy?"
"Why, Granger dear, I saved you to save myself," he answered, sounding for all the world as though he was explaining his tardiness to a teacher, "bit selfish of me, really."
"So, I'm in the presence of a changed Draco Malfoy, am I?" she snorted, "don't tell me- you no longer want to be a Death Eater; you've changed."
"That sounds about right, Granger," he said pleasantly.
She raised an eyebrow at the blonde standing in front of her. And then she began to laugh, softly and disbelievingly.
"You're… laughing?" he spluttered, "I tell you that I want out, that I've changed, and you laugh?"
"Well, it's hard to believe, isn't it?" she asked, still laughing.
"Is it, Granger?" he hissed angrily, "have you any idea what they've made me do? How horrible my life has become under that madman?" She stopped laughing immediately.
"Do you think it's been a cakewalk for us, Malfoy?"
"No. But you, you're on the right side," he said softly.
The sincerity in his tone made her fall silent. To any outsider, the scene would look absurd; the abused, battered looking girl slumped against the wall, and the tall, pale boy towering over her. The silence did not last long at all.
"Dracoooo!" the mad voice of Bellatrix Lestrange drifted up from the drawing room, "have you stopped for a chat with the mudblood?"
"Scream, Granger, scream!" Draco said urgently, "before she comes up here." Hermione screamed, and Bellatrix fell silent.
"Malfoy," she said suddenly, "Harry. He's in your house. Bella-"
"My father won't tell her that he's here. He'll want to be the one that tells the Dark Lord. Which reminds me that we only have until the effects of that jinx vanish to get out of this hellhole."
"How do you propose we get out of here, then?" she asked.
"Haven't the faintest clue," he said.
Her eyes widened dramatically. "You can't be serious!"
"What, Granger, do you think this is all some scheme of mine? That I planned this? No, this is just good luck for me, and bad luck for you."
She groaned. "Okay, Malfoy, we only have half an hour, at most, until Harry's face goes back to normal."
And out of habit, he said, "Pity, wouldn't you think? His current look is a huge improvement."
She graced him with a small smile. And then she screamed. He'd have to stop jumping whenever she did that.
Well, here it is! Finally, because it was long overdue. I originally intended for this to be a one-shot, but I changed my mind. So now it'll probably be a two or three-shot. Whatever it takes to finish the story. :)
Now, review. You know you want to. :3 Really, I mean it. Reviews really help authors improve their stories, so please take out a few minutes of your time to give me some feedback.