Chapter 12
Draco paced back and forth on the plush carpet, wringing his hands nervously. All he could see was her face, and the look of betrayal she must have felt when she inevitably discovered he had left. She was too damn smart, he thought. Too damn smart to understand. As Draco waited, he realized that for as smart as Hermione was, she would never understand. She would never know his reasoning. Because he hadnThey
Lucius beamed, unaware of any signs of distrust, of years of psychological abuse etched all over DracoI
Hermione raced back to her room, throwing herself against her door and into her kitchen, sprinting to the secret spot behind the stove to retrieve her bottomless bag. She had stocked it up in case her, Ron, and Harry needed to leave. Oh how things had changed.
She took one last look around her dorm, wondering when the next time she sees it would be. On a whim, she found herself in his room, packing some of his things. As she turned to go, she saw on the floor, underneath a t shirt, a folded Hogwarts Weekly, the student-run newspaper. On the page folded up was Hermione, held in DracoDraco my boy,I see you
The sound was like a thousand snakes all moving at once. Slow, sharp pricks traveled up DracoMy dear,What are you hiding from us?s palms had begun to sweat with the effort of keeping her safe in his mind against the Death Eaters. He felt it as though it was a physical muscle, twitching in his temples. She was throbbing through his body, her very memory seeping out of his pores like a sponge, waiting to be sucked up.
called Yaxley.
Draco tried to remain calm, though his father bristled. t return to the Dark Lord
mumbled Voldemort, his gaze boring into Draco like knives. Silence reigned over the room once more.
He extended one pale arm, bony fingers wrapped around a long, ominous looking wand.
Hermione raced through the thicket, scratching her arms and face as the rain pelted down her back, plastering her braid to her skin. She ran as fast as she could, jumping and dodging branches and thorns until she reached the clearing. After arguing with Snape and Dumbledore for close to an hour, she had come to the conclusion that no one knew Draco the way she did. At least, she hoped.
Her thought process led her to thinking that Draco was facing his fear in order to protect her, out of love for her or hatred of himself, she wasnt matter now. All that mattered was him escaping, before Voldemort saw just what he was trying to protect.
She hadns initiation as frightening for him as possible. Which meant only one thing: Home.
She had seen a picture of the manor, once, a few months back. She had been helping Ginny clean the bedrooms out when she discovered an old photo album, full of pictures of Sirius, Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Andromeda when they were children. There was one picture of NarcissaI do not understand, my well then. Now, come here Draco, and let me have a look at my newest warrior.s sleeve, revealing an unmarked, pale forearm wrapped in veins. His skin jumped at the Dark Lordt till the light adjusted that Dracos inner circle; Fenrir Greyback. Yet what writhed in his arms was even worse.
Defiant eyes staring back at him from all the way across the room, hair wild and a nasty cut on her cheek, was Hermione, come to save him.
But now they both needed saving.
