Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. I do not own Draco Malfoy- I only wish that I did.
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange is torturing Hermione at Malfoy Manor for information. Draco can't handle it.
Rating: Mature for swearing, future sexual content, and battle scenes.
A/N: DEATHLY HALLOWS SPOILERS! If you have not read the seventh book, you probably do not want to read this fic!! You have been warned!!! The idea for this story popped into my head while reading Chapter 23- Malfoy Manor. This fic follows Deathly Hallows up until the middle of Chapter 23. Well, read, enjoy, and review!
Chapter 1: An Irrational Move
I didn't plan on doing it. Really- I didn't.
One minute I was standing there- frozen to the spot watching in horror- and then the next I was flying across the room, yelling curses and flinging my hand into hers...
I should not have done it. It was stupid, irrational, and completely life-altering. Goes against everything I've grown up to believe.
But, none of it matters.
Because I love her.
Yes- you heard me correctly. I don't remember stuttering.
I love her.
Of course, until that fateful day, I had never acted on it. Actually, I did everything in my power to make it seem that I hated her. Constantly, I mocked her, calling her 'mudblood', and made trouble with her half-wit friends. Everyone- especially her- believed that I couldn't bare the sight of her. That being in her 'filthy' presence was something difficult for me.
Well, atleast that part was true. I mean about it being difficult to be in her presence. And difficult, is hardly the word I would use to describe it. Not being able to look lovingly into those gorgeous brown eyes, touch her smooth skin, taste her rosy lips, talk to her amazing mind for hours about any and everything...
It was damn torture! That's what being around her was!
I really am proud of the self control I have- or had up until that day in the drawing room anyway.
As much as I wanted to drag her away from the Gryffindor table and confess my love-not to mention need, if you get what I'm saying- I didn't, but only for the sake of my family.
The mighty Malfoy's, and their precious pureblood status that had lasted for centuries, would not be ruined because of me.
Plus, I really was looking forward to the great amount of money that comes hand in hand with the Malfoy name.
I convinced myself that she was destined to marry the Weasel, squeeze out 10 kids, and live a happy- although pitifully poor- life.
I knew that I had no other choice, but to follow in my father's footsteps. Become a death eater, marry a 'respectable' pureblood witch, and produce an heir.
No- we could never have made it work.
But that was then.
Now that everything I expected to happen has turned out... differently per se, I believe I may have a chance.
A chance to live the forbidden life I have longed for.
Not a very good one, considering she hates me- which I admit is my fault and fully understand why she can't even stand to look at me- but a chance none the less.
You see, my life was altered drastically, on one boring, normal afternoon.
Well, as normal as it gets with my psychotic Aunt Bellatrix wandering around, and my father being wandless. But I considered it fairly ordinary.
I was back at the manor from Hogwarts on Easter holiday. Father, Mother, and I had been sitting in the drawing room discussing our options.
"The Dark Lord is not happy with us, Draco," my father, Lucius Malfoy, said.
I turned my gaze from the grand fire to his piercing gray eyes that were so much like my very own. "Yes, Father, I know," I replied.
My mother, Narcissa, began speaking. "Drake, we believe that-" she paused for a moment, trying to collect herself and appear unemotional (the Malfoy way), "-that he may kill us."
The Dark Lord was much, much more than unhappy with my family. My father had failed him, and then I had a year later. He knew that Snape was the one that killed Dumbledore, not me, and since it had been my mission, he viewed it as a failure.
The Malfoy Manor had basically been taken over by the Dark Lord. Bloody snake of his- Nagini I think it's called- had become very comfortable in my bed.
He then took Father's wand. And got it blown up- by Potter no less.
I was beginning to hate him. After so many years of it being pound into my head that I must follow the Dark Lord and all of his ways, I had begun to doubt him.
I could not understand why being a 'pureblood' was so fucking important. My blood runs red. Potter's blood runs red. 'Mudblood' runs red- just the same as mine.
Really- it's not muddy at all!
The part that really made me decide that the Dark Lord was truly a maniac- was when I realized the fact that he is a half-blood.
His mother a witch, his father a muggle.
In all reality the Dark Lord should kill half of himself... I know that makes absolutely no sense, but you get what I'm trying to say.
The Dark Lord is a hypocrite.
I shook myself out my dangerous thoughts and nodded. "Is there anything we can do?" I asked, hoping that my parents had some idea on how to get us out of this sticky situation.
"Well, turning Potter over to the Dark Lord would work," Father said smirking slightly. This was his twisted way at joking.
He opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by the clanging of the front gates to our estate.
My mother- somewhat curious and apprehensive- drew her wand from her dark green robe and hurried out of the drawing room toward the entrance of the manor.
Lucius and I remained lounging in the black leather armchairs.
Several moments later, I heard Mother's cold voice. "My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know."
I sat up rigid, remembering my father's joke, and gulped.
Narcissa reappeared followed by what was one of the oddest sights I had seen in a while.
A boy, who looked to have been stung in the face by something, a Gryffindor...-Dean Thomas, a goblin, another boy who had an uncanny resemblance to Weasel, and... Granger, were tied together back to back. Greyback the Werewolf, and four other men were pointing wands at the group and roughly dragging them into the room.
My father rose, confused, but very interested by what my mother had just said. I, on the other hand staid glued to my chair.
"What is this?" Father drawled.
"They say they've got Potter," my mother replied. "Draco, come here."
I hung my head, then reluctantly stood, and made my way across the room. I wanted nothing more than to apparate far, far away.
"Well boy?" the werewolf demanded.
I glanced at the stung boy out of the corner of my eye, but made no eye contact with him. Even so- I could tell that the deformed boy was most definitely Harry Potter. The scar was stretched across his wide forehead, his round glasses perched on the chubby nose, and he held himself in that... heroic way that I hated oh-so much.
"Well Draco?" came my father's avid voice. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"
Shit, was about the only thing I could think. If I confirmed that, indeed, it was Potter, Father would summon Voldemort. Most likely, I would be forced to watch Potter, Weasley, and Granger be slaughtered. The Malfoy's would be rewarded and back in the good graces of the Dark Lord.
If I said no, then my family would be in the same damn situation as minutes previous- and we would be the ones to die.
Deciding this was too big of a decision for me to make, I pulled a standard Draco move.
"I can't- I can't be sure," I said. I didn't say yes, but I didn't say no either. They would just have to determine if it was Potter without my help. This way, I would feel no guilt. Right?
My father frowned slightly- I was not being let off the hook that easy. "But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!" I could practically see and hear the wheels turning in his mind.
"Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv-" Father started excitedly, but was cut off by the werewolf.
"Now we won't me forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?" he stated menacingly.
Father only snapped impatiently, "Of course not, of course not." Lucius could deal with Greyback. Voldemort, was another story.
Lucius then stepped very close to Potter's disfigured face. "What did you do to him? How did he get into this state," he asked.
"That wasn't us."
"Looks more like a Stunning Jinx to me," Father said, examining Potter. His eyes settled on his forehead.
Internally, I groaned.
"There's something here," he whispered. "It could be the scar, stretched tight... Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"
I think, I thought as I drug my unwilling feet towards Potter, that I don't bloody care and would like to be excused! Please! Please, just let me out of here!
But, of course, I didn't say that. "I don't know," I mumbled instead, and then stalked back to stare at the fireplace, next to Mother.
"We had better be certain, Lucius," she called. "Completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord... they say this is his-"
I glanced to her, to see what she was referring to. She held a wand in her hand, but it didn't look like Potter's.
"-but it does not resemble Ollivander's description. If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord for nothing...Remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"
Mother visibly shuddered.
Perhaps we not call the bloody Dark Lord then. Forget this ever happened, obliviate the stupid werewolf and his friends then tell Potter to get the fuck out of here, I thought.
"What about the Mudblood, then," growled Greyback.
I jerked my head away from the dancing flames and looked at Granger. Just kill me now!!!
"Wait," my mother said inspecting Granger's face. "Yes-yes she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the 'Prophet'! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"
I didn't want to speak. I wanted to spell-o tape my mouth shut actually, but I didn't have much of a choice.
I knew Granger's face very, very well.
"I...maybe...yeah," I said, hopefully in a very unhelpful matter.
"But then," Father said putting two and two together, "That's the Weasley boy! It's them, Potter's friends-Draco, look at them, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name-"
I did not turn from the fire. "Yeah. It could be."
Things were already going down hill, but then, the drawing room swung open.
"What is this? What's happened Cissy?" cried my Aunt Bellatrix.
Things had just gone from bad- to utterly horrible. The only person that could have walked through the door that would have been worse than Aunt Bella, was Voldemort himself
"But surely this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?" she said quietly.
Stay the fuck away from her.
"Yes, yes it's Granger!" Father cried. "And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!"
My lovely aunt, then started shrieking. "Potter? Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!"
I turned slightly and watched, terrified and planted to the ground, as she drug her left sleeve up, revealing the Dark Mark.
Luckily, I did not have one. But, that did not matter right now.
My father, the greedy desperate man that he is, snatched her right wrist in his hand, preventing her from calling the Dark Lord.
"I was about to call him! I shall summon him, Bella, Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority-"
"Your authority!" Aunt Bella sneered. It was not a sneer that came close to rivaling mine or my Father's, but it was still very belittling. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius.
Ouch. What a blow to a man's ego!
"How dare you! Take your hands off me!" she said trying to escape my father's stone grip.
"This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy-"
"Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy" Greyback interjected, "but it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold-"
I nearly laughed. The... thing, actually thought that Lucius and Bellatrix' argument had been over gold? Like the Malfoy's needed more? Ha!
Bellatrix, did laugh. "Gold! Take your gold, filthy scavenger. What do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his-of-"
Her gaze was on something across the room. I followed it... she seemed to be staring wide-eyed at a sword.
Father had lifted his left sleeve, about to touch his Mark.
"STOP!" Bella screamed. "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"
Hmm... as much as I'd love to stay for the sudden show, apparating was seriously beginning to sound like the sane- and safe- option.
My father froze- his long fingers inches from the Mark.
"What is that?" Aunt Bella asked. There was fear in her normally cruel voice.
"Sword," someone said.
Well obviously.
"Give it to me," she demanded.
The bloke was actually stupid enough to say, "It's not yorn, Missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it."
The drawing room flashed red as dear, old, Aunty Bellatrix stunned the fool.
"What do you think you're playing at, woman?" said another angry voice.
"Stupefy! Stupefy!" she cried.
I was very surprised she had not killed them. I mean- this was Aunt Bella.
"Where did you get this sword?" she whispered to Greyback. She pulled his wand from his unmoving hand.
"How dare you?" he snarled at her. "Release me, woman!"
"Where did you get this sword?" she repeated, her voice low and deadly. She waved the sword in his face.
If some mad woman like Bellatrix Lestrange was waving a sharp blade in my precious face, I would be fairly willing to give her the answers she wanted.
But no, Grayback- the idiot, halfbreed that he is- merely sat there.
"Snape sent it to my vault in Gringrotts!" Bella said after his silence. I could tell she was growing angry. Well- angrier than normal. She was naturally a pissed off lunatic.
"It was in their tent." Greyback finally rasped. "Release me, I say!"
I quickly turned back to the fireplace-away from the horrid scene I was so sure would happen next. But, my fucking aunt had other plans for me.
"Draco, move this scum outside," she said. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me.
God, she was a bitch.
"Don't you dare speak to Draco like-" Mother started furiously, but Bella cut her off.
"Be quiet..." Blah, blah, blah. I had quit listening. She was a mad woman and I was more than willing to get the hell away from her.
I trekked across the room to the unconcious men- pausing in front of Bellatrix, and contorting my handsome face into the dirtiest Malfoy sneer I could- flicked my wand and fled the room.
I made sure I slammed the door behind me- not that it did much good, but I was enraged. My aunt had come into my house, insulted my father, and started ordering me around. It was bloody bullshit.
Feeling spiteful, I deposited the men in a hedge at the very edge of the courtyard, as far away from the Manor as possible. The bitch deserved to look a little, before she took their lives.
My mind wondered back to the situation in my home. They had her. They had Gran- Hermione. Would Bella kill her? Would one of my lovely parents? What if Grayback-
The thought of what a werewolf would do with a young, 'sweet' girl, was making me slightly woozy.
Spotting a place to sit, I sunk down onto a stone bench. I had the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that things weren't going well for Hermione.
I let my head fall into my hands, and took several deep breaths.
I convinced myself that there was nothing I could do. Whatever happened to Granger and her fucking friends was not up to me. Their fate was not up to me to decide. I had been born into a family that believed differently than they did, and I had to accept it.
Slowly I rose, and wound back through the courtyard. I trudged up the steps to the mighty double doors, grasped the doorknob emblazoned with a 'M', and twisted.
That's when I heard the screams.
Bloodcurdling shrieks of pain that sent unpleasant shivers down the entire length of my body.
I sprinted through the foyer to the drawing room, and threw the door open.
"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!" Bellatrix screamed in fury.
My legs suddenly quit working, and I stood rooted to the spot, watching in terror as Hermione writhed on the floor in pure agony.
I wanted to do something- anything-, to make it all disappear, but it was as if I had been stupified. Her torture wasn't supposed to affect me. I wasn't supposed to feel the pain and guilt that was tearing my heart apart. (Yes, I do have a heart, despite popular belief.)
And then, she looked at me. Those large, brown doe eyes bore pleadingly into mine. And just like that, I was gone. All thoughts from the courtyard entirely abandoned.
I didn't think about what I was doing. I didn't think about the consequences. For once, I let my body take complete control.
Once again, I was running. My hand pulled my wand from my robes, and I screamed, "Expelliarmus!"
Aunt Bella's wand flew from her murderous hand and I snatched it from midair. Her shocked face was priceless. In the background, I could hear my parents' equally shocked voices, but my focus was to get to a certain hand.
Knowing I didn't have much time, I leaped and landed by Hermione's side.
Her adorable, bushy, brown hair was even more wild then normal; sticking out from her head in every which direction. Her naturally olive coloring had drained from her face giving her an almost Malfoy complexion.
She looked weak, and exhausted. Broken.
A shot of red light brought me back to reality.
My own mother- the only person in the room that actually had a wand- had tried to stun me.
Not able to hide the smirk from my features, I took hold of Hermione's frail hand, and apparated to the only place I could think of that would be relatively safe.
So now, my so called 'ordinary' life is ruined. Everything I've ever known is gone, because of one moment of weakness.
Hell, I've probably been disowned- knowing my father.
It was the right choice though.
But... what happens now?
A/N: Well? REVIEW!!! Pretty PLEASE!