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PS: Merry Christmas!
Draco left their sanctuary around midday to speak with his mother. He mostly kept to his rooms when he was at home, but he suspected that she had noticed something was different - he'd barely been out since the night that Bellatrix tortured Hermione. His meandered through the manor to her chambers; she did not share chambers with his father or he'd have just waited to meet her in some common area of the manor. He entered with a soft knock and found her in her private sitting room. He had come in quietly and caught her unawares and was shocked to find her looking drawn and weary, her eyebrows furrowed, tear tracks barely visible on her pale cheeks. Narcissa Malfoy was always put together: true to her pureblood upbringing she never let weakness show through the carefully cultivated façade of composure and grace. He stepped into the room to make his presence known.
"Mother, are you unwell?" He was actually quite concerned, what had upset her?
"Draco, darling, I didn't hear you come in." She stood and he watched her slide the mask back into place.
"You know you don't have to pretend with me, are you alright?" He closed the distance between them and stared hard into her eyes, willing her to open up to him.
"No, dear, I'm quite well, thank you. I was just going to take some tea, would you care for anything?" with a regal sweep of an arm she invited him to take a seat across from the one she'd been sitting in.
"No, mum. Are you sure there isn't anything I can do for you? You have me worried…" He really had never seen her allow any emotion to show, it had to be something big to make that happen. She shook her head and he saw anger flash into her eyes. Anger at his prying or at the cause of her unrest? Was it too much to ask to get some reassurance that his parents' hearts weren't made of stone? For one of them to open up just a tiny bit to let him see that life and emotion lived behind the masks of indifference? He supposed that his father was capable of showing hatred, but other than that….
"No, Draco. Thank you." She closed the topic with a very pointed look. He sighed, but let it go. She cleared her throat and began another topic, "I've had an owl from Severus this week and he tells me that your grades have come up well since last year. You're in the running with a Ravenclaw to graduate first in your class." Well, it was no wonder his grades had been in terrible last year, he'd been afraid for his life the whole bloody time and had been instructed to commit a murder! He laughed internally at the thought of the look on Hermione's face if he told her that he, not she, would be graduating first in their class. Well, ideally, he would not be returning to Hogwarts and would not be completing his seventh year as planned.
"Yes, well, I've kept my head down and avoided everything but my studies for the most part." It was true, he'd lost his position as Slytherin's Prince when he'd failed to kill Dumbledore last spring, very few of his classmates even spoke to him these days. No big loss, he didn't consider any of them friends.
"Your father informed me that the Dark Lord will be arriving this evening. Your presence is expected in the main dining room for dinner." He could barelysee her lips tighten in distaste. He knew she wanted him away from Voldemort at all costs. His stomach tightened in his own distaste, this was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Yes mother." He sat another moment to see if she had anything else to say. After a moment she quietly spoke.
"How are you, Draco?" He could just see traces of concern in her eyes. He gave her a small sardonic smile, even in private she wouldn't come out and speak to him as a mother should. There were no hugs or kisses from Narcissa Malfoy. He wondered if she hadn't married his father if she'd have been the cold, unfeeling woman what she was.
"I'm well, Mother. Of course." They sat in silence for a few more moments and finally Draco stood up to leave. He'd come to check on her as he'd intended, now he could get back to Hermione for a while until he had to go down for dinner.
"I'll see you at dinner Mother," as he passed she shocked him by reaching up and grasping his hand. He looked down at her, surprised.
"Draco… I- I…" She squeezed his hand and took a deep breath. "Be careful tonight…. Your aunt told him that you were unsure about the identities of Potter and the other two that night, he may question you. I… noticed that you… left before the he arrived. I'm grateful you did." She spoke with many hesitations and his stomach dropped further. Had she seen him Disapparate with Hermione? He studied her face. "I know, Draco." She whispered. "I know you saved her." He felt anger and dread surge up his spine, what was she planning on doing about it? "I want you to know that I am so relieved that you found it in your heart to save her despite her being a muggleborn." She stood and grabbed his other hand to hold both of his in hers. She spoke now with urgency and looked him in the eye. "I have long hoped that your father's influence and nature would not make you as cruel as he. You are a good man, Draco, a good son. You did what you believed to be right and it made me so proud." She gave him a tremulous smile and her eyes filled with tears. When she continued, her voice dropped even more so that he could hardly hear. "My son," she touched his cheek, "I want you to run. Your father is bound lose favor with the Dark Lord soon and I worry that you will pay the price. Take the girl with you and use her to get protection from the Order. She'll tell them that you saved her life. She is honorable, and will repay the life debt." He stared back into her flushed face unsure what to say or do. Never in his life had he seen so much emotion or desperation from her. He had always known that somewhere in her heart she loved him, but taking the risk of urging him to run away was something he'd have never expected.
"And what of you, Mother?"
"I… I am not sure. If you can safely get away, I may attempt the same. My sister is a member of the Order. The sister that I have neglected and shunned for twenty years. I may go to her. I may seek the Order's protection if she is willing to forgive me my sins." Draco knew of his aunt Andromeda, but her name was seldom spoken and never spoken well of. He studied his mother for a moment, the earnest look on her face and tears in her eyes. Here was the mother that he'd always wanted. She cared. She cried, she smiled, she loved. What had it taken to convince her to drop the wall and allow him to finally see her? Dread filled his stomach yet again as he recalled a conversation he'd overheard the weekend he came home from school. He wanted to save her from the fate of the Dark Lord's plan that he'd overheard that night. He'd already taken one step, but that step in itself could sign her death warrant. He squeezed her hands and leaned down to kiss her cheek, a gesture he wasn't sure had ever happened between them before. He then whispered in her ear,
"If she and I get away, we will tell Potter your situation. I will send word and we will get you to safety. I promise, Mother." She gave him a small nod and returned his kiss on the cheek.
"I will see you at dinner, son. Clear your mind and prepare yourself before you come. Also, he should not return for at least a week after tonight… factor that into any plans that you may be forming."
He nodded and took his leave, his head swimming. His mother had taken him by surprise, he had noted that she'd called Hermione a muggleborn and not a mudblood. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Had she never been a believer in bloody purity? Had she just been swept along by a husband clinging to the most powerful wizard he could find? She had known all along that Hermione was in the manor and had kept the secret. He really was just at a loss on this. Slowly, hope dawned inside him though. His main doubt about running involved his mother. He hadn't wanted to leave in the den of vipers. But if he turned and worked for the Order, they would have to spare and protect his mother. Between the two of them, they had a wealth of information they could give the other side. Definitely something to consider. Another of his lingering doubts was betraying his father. He'd spent his entire life trying not make that fucking man be proud of him. It had been a hard lesson for Draco to learn that Lucius only cared for himself. Nothing would ever be enough for him. Intellectually he knew this, but it was hard to convince the child he had been to abandon his father and all attempts to win his love. He suddenly found himself back at his bedroom door, his feet having carried him on their own while his thoughts were occupied with the strange events with his mother. He hurried in, wanting to get Granger's opinion on the matter. It didn't occur to him to notice that this was one of the few times in his life he'd been eager to confide in another person, to ask their opinion and truly listen to their advice. He opened the door to the study and found her staring idly out the window. She started, whirled around, whipping her wand out as she turned and pointed it at him in a smooth motion that he both admired and hated. The fact that the seventeen year bookworm turned and braced for a fight like an experienced auror was a sad sign of the times.
"Merlin, Malfoy! You startled me." She relaxed her shoulders and tucked her wand away. When she looked back up at him her smile faded. "What's wrong? What's happened?" She asked in a flat voice, obviously dreading terrible news. Had he completely relinquished his mask around her? She shouldn't be able to read his face that well. Well, he had every intention of telling her anyways.
"I just spent some time with my mother." He swallowed and took her hand and let her around to sit on the sofa. He took a deep breath and raked his hands through his hair. "It turns out that she saw me Disapparate with you from the drawing-room that night." He turned his head to look at her, and saw her mouth open in horror. "She wants us to run. She wants you to ask the Order to protect me. She says you are honorable and you'll repay the life debt you owe me for getting you out of there." Had he not been a bit overwhelmed with the situation he may have laughed as seeing Granger speechless for the first time in the history of man. "I didn't tell her that I had any plans or that I was thinking about joining you on your mission or anything." He waited for her response, knowing full well that she'd have something to say about it.
"What about her? What is she going to do?" He should've known she'd be worried about his mother. This witch was too good to be true. Who cares that the wife and sister to two of the worst Death Eaters alive knew that she, Hermione, was currently hidden in same home they were living? She wasn't worried about being turned in, but rather was worried about what would happen to his mother.
"I told her that if we escaped successfully, we'd speak to Potter on her behalf. Would you be willing to do that?" He saw her hesitate and realized that she knew nothing about his mother. "I want you to know that my mother is not her sister, or my father. In fact, she told me she was proud of me that I saved you even though you are Muggleborn. She said Muggleborn, not mudblood." This gave her pause.
"Really? Huh. Maybe she's more like Andromeda than Bellatrix." Hermione stood and paced to the window and back a few times. He took a deep breath.
"Granger." She turned back and he continued, "the Dark Lord is coming to the Manor tonight." He watched her face pale and he stood, walked over to her and enfolded her in his arms. They both needed the contact. "I'm expected to attend dinner with him and I assume the inner circle." He lowered his chin to the top of her head and she squeezed him tighter.
"What's going to happen? Will you be okay?"
"I'll be fine. We both will be. We have about two hours to relax and then we'll get you holed up behind the bookshelf and I'll make the preparations I need to be ready to withstand any Legilimency." He kissed her on the forehead. "Okay?" She said nothing but nodded into his chest. After a moment she pulled away, stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his. He could taste her stress and fear. This wasn't a kiss for passion; it was a kiss for comfort. He returned it, enjoying the feel of her in any situation. After a moment he pulled away and led her back to the couch. He settled against the arm of the sofa, stretched his legs out along the cushions and pulled Hermione down to snuggle against his side. She turned and rested her head against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her, finally letting go of a bit of tension.
"Mother also told me that You Know Who shouldn't be back to the manor for at least a week after tonight. So I'm thinking we should plan on getting out inside of say… four days? What do you think?"
"What if we left right now? I don't like the thought of you being so near him." She reached for his hand and twined her fingers through his.
"Well… it'll take us at least half an hour to get our shit together to leave and then we'll only have an hour and a half head start before they know I'm gone. I won't be comfortable with that small a window. Would you be?"
She sighed, "No. you're right. I just… I'm just scared." He squeezed her again.
"Okay, so not today. What about four days from now? That'll give us as many as three full days before it's reported to Voldemort that I'm MIA."
"Is it okay if we don't make any plans until you make it through this dinner unscathed?"
"Fine by me, love. I wish you wouldn't worry so much. Perhaps…" he trailed a finger up her arm to her cheek. "Perhaps I can take your mind off of things…" He tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was meant to wipe her mind of anything but him. His tongue pushed past her lips roughly and swept along hers, his hands pulled her flush up against him. He groaned as he felt her hands fist in his hair and they were both lost to the rising passion.
They surface for air some thirty minutes later, both flushed. He pulled away and sat back to look at her. Her lips were swollen, she had whisker burn on her chin and her hair was an absolute disaster from his hands. Her eyes were dark and heavy lidded and her shirt was crooked where he'd been exploring… his eyes were drawn to a love bite on her collar bone. Desire curled again in his stomach, he growled and kissed her again, quickly.
"As much as I'm enjoying this, I've got to get ready for dinner. If I show up smelling like a witch they'll feed me to Nagini. I'm going to go take a shower and do some meditating to clear my mind. I think it's time to settle you in behind the book case. I'll have Trixie bring you something to eat while I'm in the shower since I don't have the pleasure of sharing dinner with you this evening." She nodded and he knew her nerves were back full force. "We'll be fine, Granger. I promise. And I'm going to continue this little interlude, too." He winked at her and left the room.
He summoned Trixie and asked her to take a plate of cold cuts, cheeses and bread into the study. He doubted Hermione would settle enough to eat a full meal, but maybe she would snack on that. He made his way into his bathroom and took off his clothes that smelled of her. As much as he enjoyed her scent, he'd have a damn hard time explaining that away. He turned the shower on as hot as he could stand it and stood under the spray. He had to calm and center himself to keep his mental barriers in tact to survive the Legilimency he was certain he'd suffer tonight. Unfortunately, he was having trouble shedding the thoughts of the half hour he spent wrapped around Granger a little bit ago. He looked down his body at the evidence of just how much he'd enjoyed that time with her. He'd have to take care of this... he couldn't walk into a room with the Dark Lord with his mind on fucking the mudblood he had hidden in his room. He sighed, reached down and with thoughts of Hermione, took care of business.
After he'd finished with his shower he made sure Hermione was tucked securely in the hidden space behind the shelf and had her food. He did a sweep around the room to ensure that no trace of her was left. Then he conjured a flask and removed incriminating memories of Granger and their plans. He stored it in a secret compartment of his dresser. Removing the memories only took them out of his conscious thought, if Voldemort looked into his subconscious hard enough he could uncover them. But this step should at least keep him from accidentally thinking of it until he returned them to from the flask to his conscious mind. He sat for a few minutes and inspected his mental barriers, making sure that they were strong and that there were safe memories accessible to Voldemort should he care to look. When he was satisfied that he was as ready as he could be he finshed dressing and went down to what he hoped would be an uneventful dinner.
