I do not own anything in Harry Potter… Unfortunately… And this story really has no place in the books… There's no real place to put it…
"I don't see why you like coming to these things, Hermione. Hogwarts is like a Ren Faire year-round," Ron complained, keeping pace with his best girl.
"But you forget, or rather don't know, that Muggles do all this without magic. This is how they lived. I like it." She stopped and picked up a small chain bracelet one of the vendors made and handed it to him.
"Wow. No way I could've done this myself," Ron replied sarcastically.
"They do this without the help of magic," Hermione said, agitated. She took it from him and put it back gently. "The methods they came up with-"
Ron cut her off. "Now this I could get into!" he gushed, picking up a big sword, complete with a maroon leather scabbard and jewel-encrusted hilt.
"Of course." Hermione sighed and continued her pursuit of medieval jewelry.
"Guys! Look!" Harry ran up, returning from his own travels throughout the Faire. He held up a robe. Draco was following sheepishly behind him.
"Dude, that looks JUST like the ones from school," Ron said. "And why did you bring him!" he continued, freaking out at the sight of the Slytherin.
"I know, but it's cooler! And he said he had something to tell us," Harry replied. "I'm pretty sure it's-" Harry didn't finish. He was looking up into the sky.
"Harry?" Hermione and Ron asked, turning to look. Hanging in the sky, right above the Faire, was the Dark Mark. Blatantly mocking the trio, the Mark's serpent tongue slid out of its mouth. Cheers erupted around them as the Muggles applauded what seemed to them as a fireworks show. From under the noise, the three heard screams. People were realizing something was wrong. Fires were claiming tents all around them. Panic was breaking loose. People were running everywhere.
"The Death Eaters are here!" Ron exclaimed, quickly looking over the grounds for anything evil-looking.
"That's what I was going to tell you guys," Draco said quietly, as if afraid someone was going to hear.
The mass hysteria was breaking up as the Muggles ran out of the Faire, fleeing for their cars. "Why aren't the Death Eaters killing them? Or torturing them? It's like they're not interested in them at all," Hermione wondered, not at all sorry that the people were okay.
"It's because-" Draco started.
"Because we're not here for them, stupid girl," finished a condescending female voice.
"Bellatrix." Harry turned to face the elegant witch. "Then what are you here for?"
"You, of course," she answered, drawing her wand. "And you're going to come easily this time, because we have something important to you." She sneered at Draco, seemingly knowing what he'd done.
Harry scoffed, barely pulling off a nonchalant look. "What would that be?"
"Your family. The pathetic Muggles. Two fat males and a whiny skinny bitch."
"Ha! The Dursleys? Harry's not going to hand himself over to You-Know-Who just to save his abusive-"
"Where do you have them?" Harry interrupted, cutting Ron off.
"Safely away from you, you can be sure. We don't want to mess this up, now, do we?" Bellatrix crooned.
Harry took a hesitant step forward. "If I go, you'll let them go?"
"Harry! I'm astounded that you would think I'd go back on my word!" Bellatrix barked to Death Eaters in the shadows, who brought three limp figures into light while gawking at the pale Malfoy standing on the wrong side. "I even brought them here as a sure-faith gift." She smirked.
"Yet you lie about them being 'away' from him," Ron returned.
"I didn't say how far," she answered. "Just away." She motioned to her companions. The wilted bodies of the Dursleys floated towards her. "Just take my hand and your friends can take care of your family. Everything will end and no one will be hurt."
Harry looked unsurely to Ron, then Hermione. Their knowing was transparent on their faces. Harry knew, just like they did, what he had to do. He hung his head and walked to Bellatrix.
And ducked.
Ron and Hermione whipped their wands out and swung them in a chest-high arc. "Incendio!" they screamed in unison. Harry, from his crouch below the flames, pulled out his and aimed it at the floating Dursleys. "Protego!" protected them from the flames, while the back-up Death Eaters were burned around them. Bellatrix screamed in fury, falling back in a protective stance with one arm supporting her.
"Not again! You dirty little children will not thwart the work of the Dark Lord again!" With her free hand, she swiped at Harry, wordlessly slashing at him. His friends leapt to his aid, protecting him from the spells. The light of Hermione and Ron's Protego surrounded Harry, while Draco's Incendio fire collided with Bellatrix's Imperio beam. The beams connected and held, the fire and beam forcing against each other for dominance. Harry and Ron's jaws hit the ground.
"Fight, Draco! Push!" they yelled, cheering their friend on. He gripped the wands with both hands.
"I don't know how! I don't know what to do!" he shouted. The battle between spells was drawing perilously close to his wand. "I don't know how to fight back!"
Bellatrix cackled. "It's about power! You don't have the power to fight me. Or the loyalty to stand against me." She laughed once more and flicked the beam into Draco's wand. It split open, and the blast blew him backwards.
"NO!" bellowed Harry, throwing a Sectumsempra curse at Bellatrix. Her arm slashed open, wrist to shoulder, and gushed blood. Her shriek of pain echoed over the grounds as she Apparated away, her unconscious buddies forgotten. "Ennervate!" Harry commanded, aiming his wand towards a Death Eater. "Get. Away," he ordered, the domination in his voice and pointed wand forced him to grab his buddy and Apparate. Harry ran to where Draco had landed in a costume tent.
"Uhn… Did you win?" he croaked trying to help herself up. He fell back to the ground. He lifted His hands. They both dripped with blood and were scorched up to the wrists.
"In a sense, we did," Harry answered, intentionally forcing the "we" on Draco.
"Oh, God," Ron whispered. He and Harry hoisted Draco off the ground by the elbows and set him gently to his feet. "How bad is it?"
"I can't feel them," he answered, staring in fear at his hands. "How can I work magic with no hands? How am I going to defend myself?" His whimperings faded into mumbles and he began to cry.
"I'll take the Dursleys back to Privet Drive. I'll meet you at home," said Hermione. She grabbed their hands and disappeared.
Harry looked at Ron and they placed their hands on Draco's shoulders, Apparating to the sizeable Muggle apartment they were renting for the summer. Ron lead him to the couch while Harry went to the medicine cabinet where they kept the healing potions. He got one for burns.
"Here," Harry said, pouring it generously on his hands, but nothing happened. The skin didn't begin its crawl over the burn. The blood didn't clot and wash away. Nothing about the hands were changed. Harry looked at the bottle in alarm, but sure enough, in Hermione's perfect handwriting, the bottle was labeled "Burn Ointment." "I don't understand," he said blankly.
"It's okay," Draco said, still sniffling. "It'll have to heal naturally."
Harry and Ron left it alone, even though Draco's odd submissiveness today was worrying them both.