Draco stepped into the headmaster's office with his hands were shaking. His father would surely kill him if he knew what he was doing. He took a steadying breath, as the old wizard smiled up at him, and pointed to the chair opposite his desk.
"Draco, how nice of you to visit, please take a seat." Draco nodded, sitting across from the old wizard, his hands still shaking. He held it underneath the table, afraid the wizard would notice. "Would you like a lemon sherbet?" The old man asked, Draco shook his head, taking another calming breath.
"Headmaster, I am sorry to intrude on you at this time." He whispered.
"No such intrusion," The old wizard continued stroking his beard. "What can I help you with?"
"I need your help Professor." The young wizard stated looking up at him. "I must begin by apologizing, for my behaviour in the past." Draco stated, firmly. "I would like to change things, if there is anyway you could help me." The old wizard smiled, he'd always seen so much potential in the young man, and always thought it was such a shame that he was forced to be on the wrong side of the war. "I was given a task Professor Dumbledore, I was forced, uhm…" Draco took another breath before scrambling to roll his left sleeve up to show the Dark Mark, very prominent and fresh on his skin. The headmaster's face became sullen.
"And, what might that task be? If I may ask." The headmaster leaned forward on his desk, watching the young wizard who was fiddling with his hands to keep them from shaking. He looked paler than usual, something he's noticed these past months.
"To kill you." The young wizard whispered.
"Well that is quite a task, I am not surprised Voldemort has taken this long to ask this of someone." The man stated, completely un-phased by the young man's statement. The young man however cringed at the use of his master's name.
"Professor, I don't want to." The young man mumbled. "I am not a murder. I don't want to become one." Dumbledore nodded at the young man.
"I am proud of you Draco. You have come here to tell me yourself, and this shows extreme growth."
Draco gave a small forced smile, and no matter how scared, couldn't help the small pride that welled up in his chest.
"The order can provide safety for yourself and your mother." He looked seriously at the face of the young man. "I promise you will both be safe." Draco's eyes scrunched together.
"Professor, thank you." The young man started, looking slightly relieved, but confused at the same time. "I want to join the order. I want to help, I can provide valuable information, a spy."
Dumbledore smiled at the boy. "Oh Draco, as wonderful as your offer is, I can't put you in that position."
"Professor, I understand you have no reason whatsoever, to help me. So don't trust me. Don't tell me a single thing about the order, I don't want to know who is in it, what you are planning, anything. I will come to you, and I will tell you his plans, I will tell you who is part of it, when attacks will happen."
The professor smiled at the boy. "You would be killed if he found out." Dumbledore raised both eyebrows at the boy.
"And I will accept that death," The boy stated, looking determined. "Thousands will be alive in my stead."
"I thought your views were different than ours." Dumbledore spoke, looking straight at the boy, contemplating his surprising offer.
"Professor, my father's views differ from mine. I am not my father. I am my own man, and I would like to be one my mother could be proud of. I am not prejudicial to muggleborns, heck the top of my class is muggleborn, and she can outrun so many of the Pureblood's I know. I am smart too, Professor. I could help. If you don't believe me, which I don't blame you, with my father's history, please use Vertism on me."
The old man nodded, looking towards the boy. "Abrax would be proud of you right now, Draco."
Draco smiled, "is that a yes Professor?" The old man nodded extending his hand. The young wizard looked so relived. "Thank you." He stood up to leave before turning back to face the old wizard.
"One last question, I don't know what this term means, I haven't managed to get into the restricted section to find out. I have a few books on it at the Manor, but my father wouldn't let me near them. Professor, what are Horcruxes?"
The Professor's eyes suddenly became wide and grave, "Where have you heard this term?"
"My Aunt Bellatrix, she was talking to the Dark lord about where to hide them." The man shook his head, and sat down. Draco looked terrified. "Professor?"
"Draco, I believe you will be very beneficial to the order." Draco nodded, glad that he's finally doing the right thing, "You may go. We will talk soon." Draco turned and proceeded towards the dungeons.
Draco rolled over in his bed, and opened his eyes. Hermione was still fast asleep, her hair sprawled over the pillow, and her hand gently placed on his arm. Draco noticed she didn't have the worry lines she seemed to always have, her brain wasn't turning at a hundred thoughts per minute, and she actually looked peaceful. He couldn't deny she was a beautiful woman. She had all the right curves in all the right places, and her mind was sharp and mouth witty. He would have probably been great friends with her, had it not been for his father's prejudices.
Draco looked up at the ceiling, recalling his memory that had flashed once more in his dreams. He had helped the order, in more ways than the golden trio knew, and that secret was one he wanted to keep. He didn't need any appreciation from Potter or the weasel bee. Not that the weasel would give any, he'd probably just go red in the face, spewing out a bunch of rubbish. Potter knew he was involved in the order, that's the only reason he saved his ass when Goyle had decided to set the goddamn Room of Requirements on fire. Draco was thankful for Potter's help. He would never admit it out loud, but he wouldn't be here right now without him.
It was curious to him that more people didn't question why he never had a trial. Everyone knew he was in the astronomy tower when Dumbledore died, he guessed so many things had happened, that he must have simply slipped from their minds, or they were too scared to ask. Dumbledore had made a huge sacrifice for Draco and the order's protection, but McGonagall had been so skeptical of him the entire time. He knew she constantly watched him, especially during his 7th year at Hogwarts, even if he had agreed with the headmaster for him to leave behind memories for her, memories that showed her that Draco had been a double agent for them. He didn't blame her though, for always doubting him even with proof. He sighed, his brain never stopped replaying the war, it was almost as if it was on constant repeat, all the people he witnessed being tortured, all the horrible things he had to watch in order to maintain his cover. He supposed Snape would have understood had that goddamn snake not killed him.
Hermione woke up to a man beside her. She quickly opened her eyes startled, till she recalled the events of last night. She had come to Draco Fucking Malfoy of all people to feel secure. It was ridiculous; she had no reason in the world to trust him. Except for everything that happened these past few weeks. She cursed her mind for betraying her. She couldn't explain why, but she felt comforted, safe, even. She hadn't ever felt that safe with anyone, not even Ronald. She reasoned that she must have just been very tired, and the company helped her sleep. It was the only logical explanation, one she desperately needed at the moment. She looked up at the face of the man whose bed she had invaded, and he was looking up towards the ceiling. He was deep in thought, and hadn't noticed that she had awoken. He was really quite handsome, with his chiselled features. And with his eyes, when he didn't know anyone was looking, looked soft and sincere. She noticed the muscles of his forearms, which were placed under her hand, ripple with each movement he made. She had no idea how he was so fit, considering she never saw him exercise. It must have been the seeker build.
"Good morning" Hermione called, bringing Draco out of his thoughts. Draco turned to face her, a small smile suddenly playing on his lips.
"Good morning, sleep well?" He asked looking down at her as she remained snuggled in his blankets.
"Yes, thank you. I am so sorry-,"
"Don't mention it. You kept my bed warm" Draco interrupted, and smiled. Truth be told he hadn't slept this well since before the war.
Hermione smiled, rising out of the bed. "We should probably get ready for breakfast, your mom will probably be wondering where we are." She smiled.
"Yes, that's probably a good idea." Draco laughed, rising himself and grabbing a pair of slacks to go over his boxers, and pulling on a t-shirt. Hermione walked towards the bathroom, and placed her hand on the door, and anxiety flooded her to her bones. It seemed that the elder Malfoy had rendered her previously independent self to a fragile woman who was not able to open the door to a goddamn bathroom, in fear of seeing him again, and she hated it.
No, Hermione refused to give in. It was okay that she used Draco for sleep, since she was unable to protect herself while unconscious, but this situation was different. She was conscious, she was a smart wizard, and she was capable of protecting herself all on her own. She would not subject herself to this. Hermione breathed as Draco watched her. "If you want I can check it for you." Draco spoke from behind her. She turned around, noticing he was inches from her, and she wanted so badly to take him up on the offer, and was touched he understood immediately why she hesitated, but she wasn't that girl, and refused to be. She was Hermione Granger for goodness sakes! Lucius Malfoy was not even comparable to Lord Voldemort.
"No, thank you, I can do this alone," she whispered, turning back around and opening the door. She stepped inside and closed the door, quickly inspecting behind the curtains, and inside the cabinets. Once she knew she was safe, she proceeded to take her morning shower. As the water washed down her body, she noticed she had a rather masculine scent attached to her, one of wood and peppermint. It almost reminded her of the love potion they examined in her 6th year potions class.
Draco, Hermione and Narcissa sat, quietly eating their breakfast. Narcissa had witnessed Hermione entering her son's room the night before, and she sat quietly examining the pair. She knew for a fact that nothing had happened in that room, simply because Hermione wasn't that kind of person. She had far too much respect for herself and for that simple fact alone the older witch applauded her.
In the midst of dining, with everyone deep in their thoughts, a loud pop sounded, the indication that a house-elf was present. They found the little house-elf to Draco's right. She gazed at them, waiting.
"Jennifer, is everything alright?" Draco asked looking at the small elf. "I was wondering when you would be joining us."
"Master, Jennifer had to go to Azkaban." Jennifer said hurriedly. Draco dropped his fork, shocked, and indicated for her to continue. "Jennifer was told by Kammy, that one of the inmates, uhm Crabbe. He needed to speak to my master. Master Draco. He said it was important." The house elf spoke with trembling fingers. Draco rose from his spot, and nodded.
"Thank you Jennifer, I will go see what it's about. Please eat something," Draco proceeded to place a small kiss on his mothers cheek, who looked worried. Draco then, in his hurry, reached over and kissed Hermione on the cheeks as well, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Hermione froze, as did he, however he wasn't going to admit to what just happened, and quickly proceeded to exit the room.
Hermione's cheek tingled where his lips were pressed upon her flesh, and her hand placed on the spot his lips had been, still buzzing. Her face felt hot, and she felt shocked. Narcissa on the other hand, let a small smirk play onto her lips. Her son was developing feelings for this girl, and she was as well. She didn't say a word, in fear of making the poor girl feel defensive.
Draco stepped into the prison, and the air was thick with despair. It was very cold, colder than he's ever felt. Draco handed his wand to the guard and proceeded into the small corridor. It was beyond him how anybody could work here, and the atmosphere made him want to kill himself. Draco walked forward, following the guard, as they passed numerous cells, all of whom he knew; Dolhove, Goyle, Crabbe, Lestrange, Crouch. He stopped once he reached the cell of the young Crabbe, the idiot who followed him around like a lost puppy dog all through Hogwarts.
"Crabbe" Draco nodded, acknowledging him.
"You have 10 minutes," The warden spoke, putting a silencing charm around the cell to give them privacy. Since Draco worked for the ministry, they were allowed privacy. Azkaban's magic always baffled Draco; as the guards could only perform magic.
"Draco," Crabbe spoke, his voice cracking. He looked like a mess, and his clothes were plain and white, and might have been worse than house-elves. He sat in a small cell, with bland white walls that were scratched all over. In it, sat one piece of furniture, a dirty toilet, if it could even be described as one. Draco wondered where Crabbe slept at night. "How are you?"
"I am fine Crabbe, why did you drag me all the way here. We only have 5 minutes." The young wizard said hurriedly.
"Someone has been released." Crabbe revealed.
"My father, yes." Draco rolled his eyes, this oaf made him come all this way to tell him what he obviously would know.
"I… I don't know whom. All I know, Draco, is someone exchanged information for their release. Information of a plot." Draco eyed the man wearily.
"What plot?"
"I don't know. Draco, has your mark been burning again?" Crabbe asked. Draco narrowed his eyes. It had, but he didn't think much of it. He figured his body was rejecting the scar.
"No Crabbe, why?" The older man hissed, not willing to admit it to the seemingly deranged man.
"All of ours has been burning. Last time it burned, according to Dolhov, it was because he returned." The man placed emphasis on the he.
"He is gone Crabbe, we watched him die." Draco hissed, anger and fear twisting his gut.
"It doesn't have to be him Draco. It can be anyone who desires to take his place. Anyone with the same ambitions. Those ambitions travel through our marks. We're all connected still." Crabbe whispered.
"Why are you telling me this?" Draco asked.
"Well, isn't the mudblood in your protection?" Crabbe whispered. Draco's heart fell. How the hell did he know that Hermione was with him? Draco took in a deep breath, calming his nerves so he could address the man before him.
"Who the hell told you such a thing? Why the fuck. Would a mudblood." Draco spat out the word, it physically hurting him to do so. "Be with me."
"Draco, you are the only one not in here." Crabbe hissed. Draco narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow at the man.
"I am also smarter than you Crabbe. Regardless, what difference would this information make if I did have a mudblood in my -as you say- protection?"
Crabbe raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you smart." Crabbe mocked. "She is the only reason the Golden Trio beat the Dark Lord. Without her, they would've died. Whoever this is, dark times are coming again Draco. This time, they don't want her to survive."
Draco kept his composure, rolled his eyes and whispered. "Crabbe you've been in here too long, your heads in the clouds."
"Times up." The warden spoke. Draco nodded, and continued forward.
"Take care," Draco nodded towards his old friend and followed the warden out. Once Draco had his wand and was outside he let a quivering breath out, it was very hard to maintain his composure in there, realizing what Crabbe said might've had some truth in it. Fucking fuck, Hermione was in trouble, and the trouble she was in most likely laid in his own house.
He remained in place, gripping his wand, the wheels turning in his head. He was confused at first, why they chose the manor to protect Granger. He dismissed it though, thinking the ministry had been clueless as usual. But with what Crabbe had told him, with this… plan… happening, it seemed too-, he searched for the word, convenient. Suddenly it all made sense. It was his father. He must have convinced someone high in the ministry to place her in his house. His father was behind the threats… and he wanted her locked in with him. Draco eyes went wide, and he hated himself for not seeing it sooner. His dad had taught him this trick himself, after all. There was no better place to trap your prey than in your own bloody house.
He smirked suddenly, realizing the flaw in this father's plan. There was also no place safer for her than with Draco, situated in the manor.
He considered going to the minister, but something stopped him, this plan might've come from the highest place Draco could imagine, there was no limit to his father's power. He could be working with the minister, it had happened before. Hermione was no less safe out there on her own than in his house, Draco realized. At least in the Mansion she had him, someone who now knew they were after her. Out there, they could surprise her at any moment. Here, his father had to play his cards right, and he now had the upper hand. Draco wasn't ready to go through another war, and he definitely didn't want to lose Hermione. That revelation scared him the most.
