Hermione stared at the fire place, a sickening feeling in her belly. Slowly, she backed out of the kitchen, wandering into the living room, and stared at the barren space. Suddenly a roar of frustration rose in her throat, and she swallowed it quickly, pulling put Pansy's wand.
Then she flicked the wand quickly, watching the scene unfold before her. The once broken, delicate chandilier repaired itself, bursting into brilliant amber light. Old, washed out gray curtains were replaced with Slytherin green and soft Gryffindor gold, pulled aside to let the dull stormy light in. The sharp crack caused by curses in the mantlepiece glued back together, as if it had always been unharmed; a fresh fire roared inside the fireplace.
Around her the place was magically cleaned and repaired, no longer dusty and barren, but felt a little bit more like a home.
"Granger, Granger!" Pansy didn't seem to want to simply walk down the stairs, so she promptly slid down the staircase, leaping off with slightly frizzled hair. "Granger, you have to see this!"
Hermione turned to looked at her, slightly exasperated. "What is it, Pansy?"
Pansy pulled up her left sleeve, jerking her arm out.
"What the hell?"
Astoria pulled the hood off, raising a eyebrow. "Thought you were done with dating after Pansy dumped you?"
Draco felt the air around him sizzle with his own magic, and he forced it to lie down. "It's not like that, Tori. Something happened to her, and she needed a place to say. I don't like it, and neither does she, but there's not much we can do about it right now." Draco knew what he had to ask Astoria, but he was hesitant. Thankfully, at that moment the door opened, a very old wizard leaning on a stick hobbling inside.
"Good morning, Norbert!" Astoria greeted happily, earning a grin from the eldery man. "Mauvit, did you get the potion I specifically asked you to brew?" She saw the last few words through clenched teeth, eyes glittering.
"Chill, Tori. I did," Draco glanced over the rack quickly, and snatched a almost poisonous looking green potion. "You're lucky that I was able to find the ingredients to brew this. Do you realize how expensive Veela hair is? You owe me." Without another word, he thrust the potion into Astoria's hand, and she just scoffed at his melodramatism.
Draco only faintly heard the exchange between his co-worker and the old man, to busy checking potion orders to even care. But he did care when the old man left, and Tori just stared at him, leaning against the counter. "I know what you want to ask me, Malfoy. Yes, it is."
His silver gaze snapped up to meet hers. "You don't really think...? Do you?"
"He's dead, Drake. And Azkaban is to highly guarded for anyone to escape."
"Then, why...?" Astoria just shook her head.
"Beats me."
Draco sighed, leaning against the back counter. "Never thought I'd say this, but we might just be lucky to have Hermione Granger's extensively annoying amounts of knowledge on hand."
Upon arriving back in the Manor, Draco noticed the kitchen was oddly organized. And bright. He glanced up in confusion, the once broken crystal lights now fixed and illuminating the large room. Confusion struck again when he realized the same had been done to the living room and halls. No longer did the curtains block the light, instead a dark forest green, embrodered with gold. The sharp crack in the mantlepiece had been fixed, and the paint on the walls no longer looked cracked and peeling.
Granger must have done this...I can't blame her.
Silently, he slipped down the hall and into the library, as she often resided in there.
"Well it only makes sense!"
"But the...Mark? He isn't..."
Draco hadn't expected to see four girls sitting in the library, one perched on the table and three sitting in a circle on the floor, books scattered between and beside them. Even the library is fixed...
They seemed to realize he was standing there. Instantly, he recognized Ginny Weasley as she launched herself from the floor. Without even a warning, she had slipped over to him, wand pointed at his throat. "Who the hell are you?"
Draco stifled a ssharp yelp, backing into the wall. Ginny followed, pressing the wand against his throat. "Draco!" He yelped, terror causing his heart to run wild. "Draco Malfoy!"
"Get off of him, Ginny! For Merlin's sake!"
Draco breathed a sigh of relief as Hermione dragged Ginny back by her collar. Draco pulled the hood back, wishing for his heart to slow down. He surveyed the room, going rigid as he realized Pansy was perched on top of the table.
She gave a weak smile. "That's my cue to get the fuck out of here!" She blurred suddenly, no longer a girl but a cat, and darted between his legs and out of the room. Draco just stared at the remaining people in the room, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood. "Someone care to tell me why Pansy Parkinson is my cat, why my books are scattered all over the floor, and why Ginny Weasley is in my house?"
Luna looked up at him, bright blue eyes gleaming. "Sit." She gestured to the empty spot next to where Hermione and Ginny stood, Heremione hissing under to breath to the redhead, before Hermione forcefully pushed Ginny into her spot and sat down herself.
Hesitantly, Draco skirted around the group, and sat beside Hermione, eyeing the group warily.
Draco was terrified. If Hermione knew anything about the blonde, it was how he acted when he couldn't take the pressure from her prying, or when Crookshanks knocked a cup from the counter, the glass shattering loudly. It was all in the way his shoulders hunched, but were tensed and muscles rippling underneath is a flight-or-fight reaction. The way his silver eyed darkened to quickly to be human, and if you listened carefully his breath was short and erratic.
This was one of those times.
He didn't like strangers. She could tell by the way he eyed Luna and Ginny, the pregnant silence drawing on. When Crookshanks trotted into the room, Draco snatched the large cat up, cuddling the persian to his chest. Crookshanks, meanwhile, just went limp with annoyance.
"I'm listening, but I'm not hearing." He was staring at the ground, his pale, skeletal fingers buried in Crookshanks' thick fur.
"Right, erm..." Hermione blinked, trying to remember what he had asked. "Um...Pansy's a Animagus."
"I guessed that, Granger." Draco lifted his gaze to glance at her, but the exchanged stare didn't last long because Luna shifted in her spot, and Draco's head snapped around, and Hermione swore she heard his breath hitch.
"Right, um...she didn't...she was trying to stop you from," killing yourself, "being reckless. That's all I know." There was a shared glance between Ginny and Luna.
"Right..." he said slowly, his gaze now trained on Crookshanks. "Why is there a Weasley in my house?"
A white lock of hair clouded Draco's face from Hermione's view, and irritably she wondered why the hell he didn't cut his hair. "Because contrary to your belief Weasley's are much smarter then you think."
Luna and Ginny seemed to find this utterly hilarious, but not even a shadow of a smile crossed what Hermione could see of Draco's gaunt features.
"And that leads to my last question." Draco released Crookshanks, but the persian curled up in Draco's crossed legs, a pit of orange standing out brightly against black. Draco reached forward, and with more gentleness then Hermione had ever seen someone use, he picked up one of the open books, closing it and staring at the spine.
"Death Eaters and The Mark, by Patrick Weath." He picked up his gaze, and stared at each of them. Then his gaze flickered to two books beside Hermione. "Dark Lords of the Ages. Dark Curses and Their Uses. I don't understand, what are you three doing?"
"Can we see your Dark Mark, Malfoy?" Ginny asked suddenly.
There was a drawn out silence. Draco set the book beside him, drawing into himself and pulling Crookshanks into his chest like a a child would a stuffed animal. "I don't have the Mark."
Hermione knew he was lying. And she knew why he was doing it. "Pansy's Mark is pulsing and glowing darkly. We wanted to find out if it is a fluke, or if something is going on, and wanted to compare her's to another. But she is one of the very few Death Eaters who escaped the Ministry."
Draco mumbled something into Crookshanks' pelt that sounded like 'Tori.'
"Do you speak Goblin?" Luna asked suddenly, watching Draco.
Draco lifted his head, looking at Luna through narrowed eyes. "No, Malfoy does not speak Goblin." Hermione growled, exasperated.
"What did he say, then?"
"None of your damn business, Lovegood." Draco snapped, and for a heartbeat, Hermione swore she saw a feral look in his eyes, gold flecking in his silver irises. That scar...
"How dare you talk to my girlfriend that way!" Ginny sharp voice cut through the sudden silence, edging closer to Luna.
"Your girlfriend?" Draco gave a huff of disbelief. "W-what kind of joke is that?"
"Joke?!"
"Your both female! Is this some sort of sick joke?!"
He glanced at Hermione, and it almost pained her to see the disbelief and horror gleaming in his eyes.
"Fuck you, Malfoy. I knew you were still the same, arrogant, racist, homophobic arsehole you were in school!" Ginny stood, dragging Luna to her feet. She pulled the bemused Luna into a deep kiss, her arm coming around Luna tightly. After a moment she broke away, turned a defiant stare on Draco, and pulled Luna out of the room wish her.
Hermione was silent through the exchange, watching Draco as he stared in absolute horror as the two left. "It's ok to be gay, you know that...right?"
"N-n-no!" Draco turned on her. "It's not...it's not done like that! Woman are not designed to be with other woman and men are not designed to be with other men! It's not the way it works!" Crookshanks struggled from his grip, and sank his teeth into Malfoy's hand. Draco yelped, releasing the cat instantly.
"Some people are, though." Hermione murmured, staring at his hand as a thin stream of blood welled from the wound. "Being gay isn't a choice. It's the way people are designed. Some people like the oppisite gender, and some like the same. And it's fine. and completely human and normal." She met his gaze. "I know Pureblood's teach their children that gay people are freaks and it's a sin, but it's completely natural."
Draco was silent, staring at his lap, his pale hands trembling.
"Are you ok?"
Draco gave a soft, humorless laugh. "Since when do you care?"
Hermione frowned, then murmured. "I do care."
