Disclaimer:All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.
A/n:Here's the next update! I feel there may end up being more chapters from Draco's perspective then Hermione's at points, simply because it's hard to write some things from the perspective of someone who just recently lost their vision, you know? So at points there might be multiple chapters from Draco's perspective, and the same with Hermione's, but I'm not sure yet. That was just my warning! Thanks to my beta Tessa Cresswell!
I have absolutely no idea what's going on. One moment I'm trying to ignore Granger- who had taken up residence on my couch- and the next I am pulled from sleep by her screams. At first I thought perhaps father snuck in and began his… treatment on her, but snapping up in bed I grabbed my wand to illuminate the space, and I realize the bloody girl is having a nightmare. Half of me wants to roll my eyes, but the side of me that acknowledges the things around me shoots the idea down. It's not like she's the only one in this room with things to fear.
Getting out of bed, I wander over to her. She's got the blanket I threw her fisted in her hands, her head whipping back at forth at a speed that looks nothing short of painful. Gripping my wand tightly, I reach out and shake her a bit, hoping the girl will wake from her fears so I can resume my slumber.
It takes a lot of time before I think I have even reached into her subconscious, to the point where I'm violently shaking her. Merlin, why won't this girl wake up? I don't understand how she seemingly doesn't hear me, when I'm practically shouting. Thank Merlin I have that damn silencing spell on my room, else there would be a lot of Death Eaters in here by now.
Her hand juts out and catches my chin, sending my backwards- not from the force, but sheer surprise. What the fuck is she seeing? Fed up with this, I take out my wand and cast a spell on her, hoping the charm would wake her.
It does. She leaps awake, stumbling as she looks around for what has brought her out of her sleep. I smirk, realizing how entertaining an amplifying spell can really be.
"Good to see you awake," I snap, my good humor only around for a moment. Really, this girl was becoming such a burden.
Instead of replying, she nods and presses a hand into a spot on her midsection, something I find rather odd. Perhaps there is another wound she didn't let you heal. I watch the girl lean forwards, hands apparently searching for the couch, which she soon finds and steadily lowers herself onto, one hand coming up to clutch that same spot. I frown, thinking there must really be something wrong there. But instead of jumping straight down her throat, I sit cautiously on the couch's arm and flick my wand, illuminating the entire room, instead of the scarce area the wand's actual light can cover. Seeing her in better light, I notice the damp, dark spot in my old shirt, and it doesn't take a genius to guess what that is.
I still don't mention it. "What was that about?" I snap instead, glaring down at her even if she can't see me.
Her head turns away, apparently from my voice. "Nothing," she mutters, feeling around for something. I suppose it's probably the blanket.
I reach down and snatch it up before her searching hands can find it. "Looking for this," I ask, rubbing the material against her neck. She jerks away.
"Give it here," she says quietly, extending a hand towards me, her head faced down. I click my tongue, before pulling it away.
"Tell me what your nightmare was about and I will," I counter.
She shakes her head. "You don't want to know. Please, give it back. Your room is frigid."
I frown, because for me this is the normal temperature in this place, but I say nothing on the matter. "Come now Granger, telling me can't be so bad," I say. "It's not like I've done anything terrible to you." There now, I can satisfy my curiosity and perhaps calm her down so I get some decent sleep.
"It was just a nightmare," she says, leaning over to find the blanket again and nearly touches me in a very personal area. I swat her hand away and she scoots back again.
"Watch it," I snap.
The girl purses her lips. "If I could Malfoy, I would," she replies, snapping me back into reality. Oh yeah… poor choice of words.
Silence descends on us, and I feel rather like an arse for my comment. That must've just sent her into a fit of depression- it would've made me rather angry. Here I am, trying to be a bit helpful to this unfortunate girl who has been tortured beyond what anyone should be, and yet I seem to keep making her feel like shit. Perhaps I shouldn't talk, but it's not as though I can write something to her. Bollocks.
At length, I stand and place the blanket around her shoulders, careful to keep my hands off her skin. Startled, her head whips around, but I'm already making my way back across the bedroom.
"Sleep Mudblood, the days aren't likely to get any better." I know my words are laced with bitterness, but I can't seem to make my tone warm. After all, there really isn't anything I can do to help her at this point. She doesn't respond, and I crawl back into bed, hoping Granger is quiet until morning.
Morning light is just barely peeking through my drapes when I awaken. I can't tell if Granger is up as well, but I don't see a stumbling woman making her way through my rooms, so I decide she must be asleep. I wonder if she dreamt of the same nightmare again, and I only slept through it. But with those screams, I doubt that's possible.
At first I cannot figure out what is out of place, until I stand and stretch, and notice the figure looming in the corner. Immediately I am glad I opted for pajama bottoms the previous night, since I now realize there is a visitor in my room.
"You seem to have made her comfortable," my father sneers, stepping from the shadows. He is dressed as usual, and his ever present cane taps against my floor loudly. "Perhaps a bit too comfortable," he continues eyes icy.
I shrug, not willing to cower before my father so early in the day. He only raises an eyebrow at me, before wandering over to Granger. I follow closely behind, and realize what's going to happen a moment before it happens.
Father walks up behind the couch, glaring at Granger- I almost feel like I've done something decent, as I see his eyes scan over the top half of her that the blanket doesn't cover. Had she been wearing the shirt she arrived up here in, there would have been small shreds protecting her from my father's hungry glare. I don't even want to think about why he always looks at her like that.
He takes his cane and places it between her side and the couch, using it to roll her off the sofa, directly into my glass table. Her head connects and there is a sickening sound, like it cracked her skull- but I'm not quite sure if that's the reason. She hits the floor, glass falling with her, and I step forwards immediately, grasping her arm.
Apparently the bloody girl had been dazed when she hit the fucking table, because as I go to move her, she screams. Dropping her arm, I look up at my father and school my angry expression quickly down into one of indifference.
"This is your plan you know," I say, crossing my arms tightly, "and if you get her killed I doubt the Dark Lord will have any use for her."
Father sneers. "Come now Draco, we're just having a bit of fun. Besides, I'm certain her body can take a bit of pain- look what you've done," he spits, pointing to her. "When I brought her up here, she looked far worse than she does now," he hisses.
I shrug, remaining indifferent. He can't know that it bothers me that he beats people like this; else he will begin using it against me when he is searching for answers. "I didn't feel like having her dirty blood all over my carpet," I say. "That's the last thing I need- a house elf cleaned her up for me."
Father looks skeptical. "A house elf Draco?"
"Yes," I spit, wondering why he is questioning me.
The blond man sneers at me. "I had all the elves attending to my needs and the Death Eater's downstairs, there were none at your beck and call last night."
I try to point out that I have a personal elf that is bound to me before my father, but he doesn't wait to listen to me. Before I can even open my mouth, he has his wand drawn and is casting a spell on me.
"Crucio."
I drop onto the floor, not far from where Granger's still form lays, and begin to shake. Merlin, I've been receiving this bloody spell as a punishment since I was seven, and yet every time it still hurts. I might be able to handle it better then many people, but that doesn't mean I am immune. Still, I don't even cry out- father knows this isn't strong enough to make me scream.
As quick as the spell was administered, father lets up. I'm breathing hard, and glance over at Granger from my spot on the floor. Through that ugly mop of hair, she's got her closed eyes facing in my direction. I'm sure someone like her can already figure out exactly what's going on, and if she were able to see I'm sure her eyes would be large.
I can see the blood dripping down her skin. Great, now I'm going to have to move swiftly once father leaves if I plan to heal the gash on her head. Her small hand reaches out to find mine and I swat it away. No, that can't be allowed. If my father thinks I really am helping her then I best be ready to have my heart torn out by Voldemort himself.
"Get up Draco," Lucius says sternly, and I struggle to my feet. Everything is in pain- nothing I can't tolerate, but still, pain. I watch him walk through the area I was just lying on, and back to Granger's side. He fists her hair and rips her to her feet, hair pulling out as he goes. I suppress a cringe.
Instead of looking at her however, he watches me. Out of the corner of my eye I can see her quivering, and I wonder why she refuses to speak. "You will not help her again."
"Nor will I allow her to bleed all over my carpet," I snap, glancing at her bloody form. "I'll heal her to keep her alive, because otherwise she will be dead before tomorrow at the rate you are going."
He frowns. "You don't need to be wasting magic on someone like her. I will not have it."
"Then throw her back in the dungeons and forget about the plan," I reply, eyes narrowed. I'm hoping that father realizes I have to help her, in some form, but I'm not so sure it will work. He may be expecting me to break her and get information, but I can't do that if she's dead on my rug.
His fist tightens in her hair, and yanks harder. She whimpers, and I refuse to look her way. "Perhaps you are right," he relents, tossing her onto the floor. She hits hard, and doesn't move. Father's eyes are cold. "Clean the ugly bitch up if you must, and I will see you downstairs in twenty minutes for breakfast. You will be there; your mother misses your presence at the table." With those lovely words, he turns and storms from my bedroom in a huffy manner. I watch him go, and it's not until after he is gone that I realize something.
I never even figured out his purpose for coming up. Fuck, mother will just love this discussion at the breakfast table. Rubbing by forehead, I glance back at Granger. A part of me wonders how she is even still alive.
As if they would let her of all people die so easily. Walking over to her, it crosses my mind that I have only eleven days before Voldemort is here, ready to tear her apart in a whole new way.
I silently groan, reaching down to pick her up, but she feebly swats me away. "Oh calm down Granger, it's only me."
It's certainly not the most reassuring thing to say, but it's all I can tell her. Picking up the squirming girl carefully, I take her to the bathroom this time and set her on the toilet. Reaching up I carefully brush hair away from the gash on her head, and she hisses.
I roll my eyes. "I can always leave you to bleed to death you know."
As I'm reaching for my wand, she says something I'd really rather not hear, "Please do."
I groan. It's going to be a long fucking day. "Unfortunately for you Granger, I can't."
A/n: I know it's kinda shitty, but review anyways and I'll try to have another chapter soon?