Chapter Twenty-One

The red headed wizard chuckles, shifts his weight and gives me a warm but tired look.

"Now, first thing's first: Severus has already told us that you came to him for help, this has been confirmed by George, and then the two of you went to your mansion to rescue Hermione. My question's are as follows: why was she in your mansion? What happened there? And, probably the biggest question of all, why did you help her escape?"

A dozen words swarmed my head making me dizzy. Contrary to this feeling though, when I open my mouth complete sentences come stringing out and I have no idea how.

"She was there as a captive of the Dark Lord. My Aunt Bella was charged in torturing information out of her. When she was needed elsewhere the task had fallen to me. But, I couldn't follow through with the things she had done. Not to Granger, not to anyone really..." I let out the last part as a mumble, but the room is so silent that I'm sure everyone heard my words.

"Instead of hurting her further, I offered her food, water, comfort..she didn't trust me, just like you lot don't now. But, it didn't matter. At the same time I started to search for a way out of that hell, or at the very least yearn for it..I thought if I could help heal her..I don't know..maybe it would make me feel better, like I was finally doing something good."

"So, we've confirmed your a selfish prat, but if you were helping Hermione and healing why are her wounds so damn bad?" The voice came from behind and I recognized it as the Weasley twin that was in the prank shop.

I guess his name is George then...

"I don't mean to be selfish, even if my actions say otherwise. And, I received a letter from my mother. She was distressed and asked me to meet her. When I did she informed me that the Dark Lord had killed my father and that she was running. I took it as an opportunity to leave the life of a Death Eater-"

"That doesn't explain why you went back for Hermione." The older red head mused.

"Well..my first instinct was to run but, I don't-I..I don't know. I needed to go back..I felt an obligation to help her."

A sarcastic laugh, "Oh you did now? Maybe because she was tortured in your home, by your blood? You damn prat; may as well string you up by the ankles and treat you like she was treated in your home."

"George!" The man bellowed, "That will not happen. We will decide the end result after the interrogation. You know this. If you can't behave yourself, then there is the door." He pointed to the kitchen's closed door and George murmured a "sorry, Dad."

I open my mouth again, and more words spill out.

"I may be a prat, but I still went back for her. I even found Snape to help me..I knew if my mother had fled, the next place they'd go would be the Manor..she didn't deserve any more.." I cut off my words, and felt a sharp pain in my side for doing so. I flinched, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"So, what happened when you arrived back at your home?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"When we got there..she was screaming..I ran as fast as I could to my room-"

"You're room?" George said loudly.

"Yes. I put enchantments on it so that she wouldn't escape it. It was the only place in the house where I could keep an eye on here, make sure that she was comfortable and healing correctly."

"Are you sure that's all you did you sick-"

"George!" Mrs. Weasley spoke up this time, though she did look a little unnerved at my words.

"I did sleep next to her one night, but it was only to stop her from having night terrors-" A fist collides with my face so hard that I almost topple over, taking the chair I'm tied to with me. I spit out a bit of blood, and George is restrained and taken out of the room.

"What happened when you got to your room, Draco?" Mr. Weasley said coldly, as if nothing had changed and I hadn't just been socked in the face.

"I found Bellatrix torturing Hermione. I stopped her, but was injured in the process.." I groan out, my jaw feeling as though it may fall off.

"Why did you help her escape? Why didn't you just leave her for dead, or join in? Why should we trust you moving forward?" He deadpans.

I get another stabbing sensation in the ribs as I avoid the first question and instead skip to the second, this too does not go unnoticed by the expression I receive from Mrs. Weasley.

"I couldn't leave her for dead, and I wouldn't ever join in on something like that!" I almost yell through the pain. "And, I don't know why you should trust me- I don't know what to say or do to make it so. But, I do know that I don't want to be what I was; I don't share their ideals, I never have. It's just easier now for me to see it. It doesn't excuse what I've done, but no one could hate me for those things more than I hate myself for doing them!" The pain is almost unbearable, as I refuse to answer the first question asked. I don't truly know why I helped Hermione. But, I do know that finding out via truth serum in a room full of her friends and family is not how I want to sort out my feelings.

There's a pause, as though everyone is taking in my words and studying my pain. Then:

"Why did you help her escape? Especially if you knew that you'd probably be put through an interrogation like this?" Mr. Weasley asked more firmly this time.

"Why does it matter?" A stern voice sounded from the doorway of the kitchen, which I see now had been left open after the Weasley twins forced exit. Hermione steps inside, a slight limp in her step.

"Hermione, dear, you shouldn't be up and moving around so soon!" Mrs. Weasley chided and ran to the bushy haired witch's side.

"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley, really." Her tone much softer now, and she turns to the rest of the room, "It doesn't matter about why he came back and helped me. The fact is that he did come back and he brought me here. If he hadn't, I wouldn't be alive right now. For this reason alone, I trust him! I don't understand why this isn't enough for you lot too. Especially you, Mr. Weasley; you're always willing to give second chances to those who deserve them. Tell me, how has Draco Malfoy not earned his?"

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