A/N — As always, I'm incredibly appreciative of every review/comment/kudo/Tumblr interaction that I have with all of you. Thank you so much for reading! Just one more chapter and then the epilogue left.
Please be mindful of the added tag for this chapter and potential triggers—if you have any concerns about the content or questions about the scenes in question before reading then please reach out on Tumblr/Facebook/PM!
Added tags: Canon typical violence.
January-March
Year 7
Draco paced his room again, staring at the empty pages of the journal propped open on his desk. Before Christmas break, Hermione had warned him that she, Harry, and Ron were embarking on the next step of their mission to hunt pieces of the Dark Lord's soul and that she might be unresponsive for several days as a result.
It had been an entire week.
Though Draco could still feel her on the other end of their bond—he checked several times an hour—it did little to settle his nerves; he could not tell if she was in danger or held hostage somewhere. She had given him few details in regard to their hunt, partly to protect the details in case his journal was compromised but mostly because she did not want to worry him.
He worried anyway.
After the events of the previous summer, Draco had no desire to see his parents and spent his Christmas alone at Hogwarts, despite his mother's protests. Blaise had also stayed at Hogwarts at the urging of his own mother since she had been pursued by Death Eaters to join the cause; Blaise had hoped to spend Christmas with Luna, but she returned home to spend the holiday with her father. Theo returned to Nott Manor over break, planning to nick several heirlooms from the family vault and sneak them into the castle.
Luna was absent on the train ride back from Christmas. Blaise had waited for her on the train platform and tore up every compartment searching for her. He destroyed half of the Slytherin Common Room when he found out that Luna had been taken hostage by Death Eaters on the ride home before Christmas. He blamed himself for not being there with her. No assurances from Draco or Theo could mollify him, even though it would have been impossible to fight them off in an enclosed space like the train.
After a week of silence, Draco finally received a message from Hermione in their journal just before the start of school.
I'm so sorry that I haven't written, the mission had — the ink faded as she seemed to hesitate while writing — complications but it's okay now. We are safe and everything is okay.
The words did little to reassure Draco.
You promise you're safe? Healthy?
I promise, but please don't ask me anything more…I really don't want to talk about it yet. Can you tell me something to distract me? How was your Christmas? Please tell me something happy.
Draco sighed and began to scribble details back to her, wishing he could comfort her in person instead of through a piece of paper.
Everyone really misses you—I really miss you. I ended up staying at school over Christmas and I have to say, fake Christmas has raised the standard to a point where even real Christmas cannot compare…
"Mate, I don't mean to sound so suspicious, but how do you know about all these secret passageways again?" Theo asked, marking another spot on their rudimentary map of Hogwarts.
Shrugging, Draco gave him a sly look. "Granger. She found out from Harry, said he had some sort of map… Now that I think about it, they should've left the map with us. It's frustrating that the Death Eaters managed to seal off most of these passageways before the start of the year, but it doesn't hurt to check."
Theo grew silent, the way he always did when someone mentioned Harry.
"I'm so sorry, Theo." It did not feel like enough.
"Next spot on the list?" Theo asked in reply, ignoring the sentiment entirely.
After a beat, Draco continued down the corridor. "There are great vantage points up the tower here — if we placed pairs up there, they could see all the way past the grounds and to these three"—he gestured to the open map in Theo's hands—"entrances. If we have them blocked from the forest, then their next best option would be—"
"—through the bridge," Theo finished his thought.
Draco nodded, softly repeating, "Through the bridge."
"How do we guard the bridge? It's a massive blindspot and wide enough to allow some of the larger dark creatures to make their way directly into the castle. If they're able to get that far, they've blown through the wards and there's no reason to think we can protect the bridge any better than the rest of the castle."
The pair made tense eye contact before Draco huffed. "Are we going to have to destroy the bridge?"
"Fuck. We have to do it in a way that they can't just wave a wand and fix it immediately." Theo dragged a hand through his already messy hair. "We should at least have the plan prepared. All of this is just in case, right?"
Trying to decide between comfort and realism, Draco nodded. "Of course. Just in case."
After marking strategic placements in their rudimentary map of Hogwarts, Draco decided to walk the route once more and map out a final sketch. Theo had returned with the information they needed in ancient texts from Nott Manor, but there was only one chance to make it work.
They had no room for error.
"Pictor?"
Draco looked up from his sketch; a ghost that he recognised from around the castle floated just a few feet from him, watching him with incredulity. "What?"
Shrinking into herself, the ghost shook her head and turned away from him. "Apologies—I just thought—you looked like someone I once knew."
"Wait!" he called out. "Pictor Black?"
The ghost came to a stop and looked back at him. "How did you know his name?"
His mind frantically tried to place her before the connection fell in place. "You're the Grey Lady, right?"
"When I was alive, I was Helena Ravenclaw." Her voice was so quiet he strained to hear her.
Ravenclaw, he marvelled to himself.
"Pictor is my ancestor." Draco raised his left hand. "This was his ring."
Her brow furrowed as she floated back towards Draco. "He was a good man. Are you a good man?"
Without a beat of hesitation he replied, "I'm trying to be a good man for my witch—and for myself. My family doesn't have the best history...it's nice to hear about Pictor. Maybe it's not all bad blood." He set down his sketch pad and quill.
"Pictor and I were courting, once upon a time." Helena's hand raised up to her hair. "That wife of his lit my hair aflame during my courtship with Pictor; she thought me ignorant and attempted to deny her intentions but I knew it was jealousy." She sniffed in a haughty manner. "The two were married the next summer."
"Ari?"
Helena scoffed and tilted her head to the ceiling. "Ever since we were children, she was always envious of me, of my mother and her di—" cutting herself off, she flicked her eyes back to him. "I forget myself. Apologies for disrupting your work, Pictor Black's descendant."
"Draco," he offered. "My name is Draco."
"Pleasure." Helena faded into the wall next to him, disappearing from view.
The next day, Blaise was standing in front of the wall on the seventh floor, looking like he had not slept in weeks.
"Blaise, what's going on?" Draco lowered his voice as he approached his friend.
Blaise's jaw set and he had a look of determination. "I'm joining the fight. Luna always asked, and I never took her up on it and who knows how things would've changed if I hadn't been such a coward."
Draco's features softened. "I told you there's nothing you could've done, mate. But if you want to join, then there is always a spot for you. I've taken over combat with Ginny and Theo's leading the healing with Neville. I would have invited you earlier but I thought you were trying to stay neutral."
"Neutral," Blaise snarled, his eyes aflame with anger. He retrieved his wand from his cloak. "That was before they went after Luna. These fuckers went after the purest soul I know. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't help."
Sighing, Draco nodded. "I understand, I really do. We are always looking for new members and I have a feeling they'll be excited to see you. Are you ready to officially meet the resistance?"
"Absolutely."
Closing his eyes, Draco thought of the sequence of requests that created the entrance for the Come-and-Go Room; it was an idea he and Ginny came up with before Christmas break to ensure no one could request the room without an existing D.A. member accompanying them. The walls were reinforced with additional precautions to prevent a brute force break; Draco had studied how Umbridge broke down the wall in fifth year and he added blocks to curb the possibility of a repeat. At least one good thing came from joining the Inquisitorial Squad.
A door appeared and the pair of Slytherins walked into the headquarters for Dumbledore's Army. Since Draco's first meeting, the room had expanded to include living spaces and several functioning bathrooms. Michael and Neville were the first two students to move into the room full-time after their brazen rebellious acts against the Deputy Heads painted a target on their backs. From the first day, the room had added additional bedrooms and even a second bathroom, as if it had knowledge that more students would be moving in soon.
"Welcome back to Potterwatch!" Lee Jordan's voice bounced off the walls of the large space.
Passing the blaring radio, Draco made his way to Neville who was lounging in a nearby hammock.
"Hey, Draco." Neville hopped down to greet him.
Draco gestured to Blaise and smiled. "I'm here to introduce our newest recruit."
Everyone in the D.A. had known about Luna and Blaise's relationship, so they welcomed him with open arms. Draco was envious of Blaise's immediate acceptance into the group. It had taken weeks before anyone was anything other than stiffly cordial to Draco.
After Draco's announcement, Neville began unloading information to Blaise about the cause and the next wave of plans. The introductory words blurred in Draco's ears as he felt Hermione through their bond, worn and exhausted, but healthy. He felt her reassurance and comfort through their bond and tried to send her his energy and love in return.
"—must be with Hermione right now."
Her name pulled Draco from his thoughts as he looked up at Neville who gave a half-smile.
Turning to Draco with a questioning look, Blaise asked, "What about Granger?"
"Uh oh." Neville slowly backed away from the group and excused himself at the question.
Draco's breath caught in his throat, watching as Neville retreated and wishing he could have left with him. "Shit. First, you have to know that it's not personal—we couldn't tell anyone," Draco started, grimacing at how weak the excuse sounded.
Blaise's eyes narrowed. "What did you do? It must be pretty bad for it to scare off the Gryffindor."
"I've sort of been dating Granger…" Draco fidgeted in place, shifting his weight and resisting the urge to break eye contact.
Stilling, Blaise cocked his head as if the words did not register. After a moment, an incredulous grin spread across his face. "What? You're dating Hermione Granger? When did this happen?"
Draco swallowed and tried to sound casual. "Oh...I mean...just after the Yule Ball."
"The Yule Ball." Blaise's mouth dropped open and he gaped. "I'm your best mate and you've kept this secret for THREE YEARS?!"
Theo choked a laugh behind Draco. "Excuse you, I'm his best mate."
"It's sad how you cling to the delusion." Blaise shook his head with feigned sympathy to Theo. "Draco—what the hell?!"
"There were so many times I almost told you, but I was in an impossible position. I couldn't ask you to keep this secret with how much was at stake," Draco insisted. "When the war began to ramp up, I knew if I told you it would put you in danger too."
Blaise tensed, glaring a hole into Draco. "Yeah, that's obviously my priority right now, keeping myself safe without caring about what happens to anyone else. You know me so well."
"Blaise, that's not what happened. What would you have done in my position? If you knew it was the only way to save Luna?"
"Oh, fuck off!" Blaise's right hand clenched into a fist but his voice betrayed his dwindling anger. "You know I would, that's not a fair question."
Draco raised his hands in front of him. "It's the same, I would've done anything—given up anything to keep Granger safe. She's the only reason I'm even standing here."
"You crazy bastard—you actually love her. You love Granger." Blaise's eyes widened in realisation. "That's why you did it."
The question caught Draco off guard, but he nodded in response.
"I just thought you didn't know how to talk to witches, but it turns out that you've had one this whole time." Blaise shook his head in wonder.
"Mate, I would've told you in a second if I could've."
"Luna always says that we can never heal until we forgive. I suppose that I have to forgive you or she would be upset with me," Blaise announced begrudgingly. "If it were Luna...I understand why you did it. My only consolation is that Theo and I are finding out together."
Covering his reaction with a cough, Theo nodded before putting on an air of indignation. "Absolutely. This is the first I'm hearing about this. I can't believe you kept this from us, Draco! I am offended! Appalled! Betrayed!"
"Tone it down," Draco mumbled under his breath.
"Bloody hell!" Blaise exclaimed. "Granger is why Adeline sent you a Howler! It all makes sense now."
Draco blinked before resting a hand on Blaise's shoulder. "Can't get anything past you, mate."
Violent and bigoted, the Carrows were not particularly bright. They lacked the Legilimency skills to gain even the smallest amount of information from the standard student. However, the Slytherin trio quickly realised that they could use their own Occlumency skills to their advantage on the unsuspecting twins.
It began with Draco raving to Amycus about the brilliance of the Dark Lord and how he used Legilimency on his followers to glean information on their true intents. This was followed up by Blaise's innocuous comments that hinted how Amycus seemed to be falling behind when compared to his sister's work. Blaise just happened to work with Amycus during detentions—as scheduled by Snape— and passed the students off to Theo for healing immediately following their punishments. After Theo finished with them, Pansy stepped in to glamour the bruises back onto the students, leaving the Carrows none the wiser.
Then they planted Theo—he played his role as son of a Death Eater pretending to have a moment of doubt against the Dark Lord's regime well, confiding in Amycus who proceeded to fall right into their trap. He took that moment to attempt to read Theo's mind, to see Theo's true intentions with the Dark Lord and his followers.
It would have been a good plan for Amycus if Theo had not been such a skilled Occlumens—and if Blaise and Draco had not planted fake memories of him overhearing Alecto rant about Amycus' incompetence and her ascent in the Dark Lord's followers without her brother in Theo's mind. Amycus had looked so pale and shaken, Theo had been dismissed immediately and Amycus was not seen for days afterward.
The first seed of doubt was planted.
After Draco skipped his Christmas break to stay at Hogwarts, his mother and father sent guilt-laced letters until he conceded and agreed to come home for Easter break.
He was at the Manor when he felt it.
It had woken Draco from a dead sleep and he nearly fell out of his bed when he identified what the feeling was.
The Pull.
It was usually a constant aching inside his chest, but faded from their distance. Today, it was unmistakable and strong, calling for her.
Draco's feet hit the floor before his mind had begun to process the implication.
She was at the Manor.
Fuck.
If it came down to it, he would do anything to save her. Fuck the rest, fuck Harry Potter, and fuck the Wizarding World—he was going to take his witch and get her the fuck out of this war.
She said she would be partial to an island with two libraries, if he recalled correctly.
Peering out his open window, he heard the low chatter pass between the figures down the end of the extensive path to the Malfoy entrance. They had arrived through the long-distance Apparition point. It was reserved for the Snatchers and anyone the Dark Lord had not branded.
Draco cast a quick charm to extend their voices, his rapid heart rate so loud that he wondered if he could hear anything at all. From a distance, he could see a cluster of figures approaching.
"Let go of her!" a voice that sounded like Harry Potter shouted, but one of the Snatchers merely shoved him and pulled him along.
A flash of white swept in with a vengeance and Draco watched as Charles threw himself at one of the figures, hissing and snapping. The Snatcher hopped around in an attempt to save his feet and legs from the attack; he kicked at Charles but lost his balance and fell to the ground.
"Scabior! Get her and let's go. It's a fucking peacock." Draco recognised Greyback's voice. His stomach plummeted and he could feel last night's meal threatening to come up.
Another person stepped in and grabbed Hermione, who had been momentarily freed by Charles' efforts.
"The pact is back on!" Hermione called out as she stumbled under the pull of Scabior. "I forgive you!"
One of the men let out a low chuckle. "We don't need your forgiveness, little girl."
"It wasn't for you." Hermione chastised in that tone she generally reserved for Ron. "A longstanding debt has been settled and I couldn't be more proud."
Charles preened under her words.
"Let's bring 'em to Bellatrix, she'll know what to do with them."
A grunt came from one of the Snatchers, Draco did not recognise his voice.
"If this is Harry Potter, we will all be rich!" The other Snatcher was gleeful at the prospect.
A growl of acknowledgment came from Greyback as they passed through the open gates.
Dressing at record speed, Draco snagged his wand and Apparated down to the drawing room where Bellatrix interrogated her prisoners. He tried to calm his frantic pace, glazing his eyes over with Occlumency as he turned the corner and nearly ran into his aunt.
"Draco! Marvelous timing." She waved a hand at him with impatience, the manic look in her eye gleamed. "I need you to come identify some prisoners for me. The werewolf thinks that it found Harry Potter and his friends. We cannot take any chances if we are going to call the Dark Lord. You know the consequence if we are wrong."
Counting his breaths, Draco nodded, his legs and arms feeling numb as he followed his aunt into the drawing room. "Yes, Aunt."
Greyback was dragging Hermione in by her hair, the other two Snatchers following with Harry and Ron. It was torture he never anticipated, being in the same room as her after almost an entire year apart and forced to ignore every impulse for the sake of his cover.
Hermione's eyes locked on his before she landed on the floor in front of him and Draco's knees threatened to buckle. Her clothes were ripped and dirty, one of the Snatchers had a busted lip and he felt a swell of pride for his witch — she had fought back against her attackers. She had bags under her eyes and was thinner than when he had last seen her.
"I know 'e's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im!" one of the Snatchers declared, there was a smear of blood on his clothing that was not his own.
"Draco." Bellatrix waved her wand to beckon him. "Come closer. Is it him? Scabior seems to think this is Potter and the Mudblood he has been travelling with."
Hermione gave the smallest shake of her head, her eyes pleading with him. Draco knew her better than he knew himself and he could read that look anywhere.
It said 'don't interfere'.
Digging his nails into his palms, he tried to focus on the pinch of pain and not on the look in her eyes. All attention in the room transferred to Draco and he saw Hermione take advantage of the distraction to mouth a word. His eyes focused on her lips.
Clearwater.
His clever witch.
Looking between the prisoners, he kept his expression neutral. Ron was giving Draco a look of disdain and anger, as if Draco's very existence was an offense. Harry's face was swollen and unrecognisable; his messy black hair and thin build were untouched. If Theo were here—
"It's not them," Draco said with practiced indifference. "See right here?" He nodded to Harry. "The real Potter has a large scar on his right arm, got it with those filthy Muggles of his before he was of age and they didn't have magic to heal it." His eyes flicked to Hermione. "This isn't even Potter's Mudblood. Some Clearwater girl."
In the back of his mind, Draco thanked Snape for his training, however brutal. Even a year ago, Draco never would have been able to say the word. Today, it was just as Snape had said—a matter of life and death.
Greyback growled from behind the trio. "That's what she told us at their campsite."
"This is why we did not call the Dark Lord like you wanted, you disgusting disgrace of an animal." Bellatrix pulled at her hair and glared around the room. "Do you realise the mission he is on today? He would have all of our heads for calling him away!"
Just as Draco thought the ruse was successful and he was going to get Hermione to safety, Bellatrix paused, her head tilting in an eerie manner. "Where did you get this sword?"
With a strike of her wand, she brought the Snatchers to their knees, frozen in place as they watched her with wide eyes.
"Release me! How dare you!" Greyback bared his teeth, an unnatural curl to his lips. "It was in their tent."
"That is impossible," Bellatrix panted, she stepped closer to the trio with wild eyes. "Snape sent it to my vault. It was in Gringotts! They stole it!"
Draco's breaths became shallow, panic pooling in his chest. "Aunt, no one can steal from Gringotts. It must not be the same sword." He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.
"Be quiet! You do not understand what this means…if the Dark Lord finds out…" her voice lowered, murmuring to herself. "…how…I must know!" She unfroze the Snatchers. "Take the boys to the cellar with the rest. I will start with the girl. Draco, help Scabior."
"But—" His protest was immediately dismissed by Bellatrix.
Hermione gave another nearly undetectable shake of her head.
Each step Draco took away from Hermione felt like he was wading through waist-deep mud. The door to the drawing room closed behind him, and a cold feeling trickled down from his head to his toes. As soon as the door closed, Scabior directed Harry and Ron down the hall towards the stairs; Harry glanced over his shoulder at Draco and they shared a look. Harry gave one slight nod to Draco.
"Pinky!" Draco rasped, his throat like sandpaper. "Tell Mother she's here."
Pinky appeared and disappeared so quickly that Draco questioned if it had been a trick of his mind.
It felt like his lungs were collapsing on each exhale; he braced himself against the wall with his palms, tightly screwing his eyes shut. His entire body was shaking. Hermione was just on the other side of the door from him, unarmed and in the presence of his insane aunt.
Trying to focus on his Occlumency, he imagined the wooden trunk, sealing it shut in his mind.
He raised a fist and slammed it into the wall, crying out in frustration. The resulting pain shot up his arm, but his mind barely acknowledged it. It had been so long since he had last seen her, touched her, and now he was standing by helplessly while she was questioned by Bellatrix.
In that moment, he knew two facts and they were at odds in his mind.
Hermione had told him not to intervene, twice.
If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.
"I don't know anything! We didn't break into your vault; it was a decoy—a copy!" a muffled voice cried out.
The sound of her terrified cries knocked the wind out of him. Crushing his wand in his fist, his vision narrowed.
Rattling in his mind, his trunk began to splinter; he could hold it back no longer.
There was an echoing of scuffles and suddenly Hermione was screaming. Before he fully registered the sound, his magic pulsed through his veins, wild and untamed. His entire body trembled uncontrollably as his eyes bore into the doorway. Static filled his ears, increasing in volume until he could hear nothing else.
The wood splintered with a crack before exploding violently in pieces around him.
"How did you get into my vault, you thief!" Bellatrix growled, her eyes feral and unhinged as she stalked around Hermione like a predator looking at its meal. "What else did you take?!"
Hermione writhed, her body shaking with adrenaline as Bellatrix pinned her to the ground, screaming in her ear, "I know you stole my sword! What else did you take from my vault?"
"We didn't take anything, I swear!" Hermione grew desperate, her survival instincts kicking in. Fear shot through her, screaming 'Run! Fight!'
She thought of Draco on the other side of the door, hoping he was strong enough to stay away. They were so close; they only had a few Horcruxes left before the fragments of Voldemort's soul were gone. After all their sacrifices, she refused to break now, even for Draco.
"You will not admit it, will you?" Bellatrix's hand retrieved a blade, dripping with a liquid that Hermione could not identify. "I have other means to retrieve information, and you will tell me whether you want to or not."
The cold blade skirted across the skin of her neck, goosebumps forming under the metal.
From Draco's stories, Hermione knew that Bellatrix favoured Legilimency. It seemed probable that the blade was merely a distraction so that she could dive into Hermione's unsuspecting mind and take information.
With a deep inhale, Hermione imagined her locket, tightly encompassing her memories of Draco. She wound a silver ribbon around it again and again until no part was visible. Tying it with a delicate bow, she braced herself for the mental attack. During their long nights on the run, she had taken to practicing Occlumency at every opportunity.
She was ready.
"Crucio!"
Her eyes shot open and unimaginable pain rippled through her body, trailing through her limbs. Each muscle tightened with contractions from the curse, as if she was being electrocuted, every nerve ending screaming in pain.
It took Hermione a moment to recognise that the garbled scream that she heard came from her own lips.
Bellatrix stopped the curse, her gaze caught on her locket; her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Where did you get this necklace?"
"It was a g-g-gift," Hermione stuttered, her vocal cords strained.
"You are a liar and a thief! You think I cannot recognise elvish design? You could never make enough in a lifetime to afford something like thisI You must have stolen it!"
In one motion, Bellatrix pocketed the blade, wrapped one hand around Hermione's neck and the other through the gold strand, tugging violently to rip it off her.
A harsh mix between a wail and a cry erupted from Bellatrix; Hermione felt a gush of liquid rain down on her leg as she struggled to open her eyes. Bellatrix was clutching a bloody stump where her hand had been a moment before.
Hermione stared at the lifeless hand on the ground next to her, oddly unfazed—either as a result of the Unforgiveable or shock.
The pendant Draco had added to her necklace, hematite and amethyst—love and protection, he had known what it meant. He had given her protection. A wave of love for Draco washed over her, tears pricking at her eyes.
"It was a Mudblood who did that to you. Don't forget it." Her voice mocked as she sprayed spit onto Bellatrix's face, emboldened by Bellatrix's weakened state.
Bellatrix's remaining hand collided with Hermione's face, and Hermione screamed as the pain rang in her ear, the muscles still sensitive from the Cruciatus Curse. The floor began to rattle beneath Hermione, tremors vibrating down her body. Hermione's eyes focused above her as the chandelier clattered and knocked against itself.
A deafening blast muted her senses; she was so disoriented that she briefly believed she had imagined the noise.
Bellatrix screeched, jumping up from Hermione to face the doorway. Even with Bellatrix's weight gone, Hermione was unable to sit up, her body feeling boneless. She turned her head as her body quivered with aftershocks. The double doors had been blown to pieces and were scattered around the entryway.
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!" It sounded barely human, a guttural scream of unbridled rage like Hermione had never heard before. A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye and traveled down to her ear.
Draco.
Hermione watched as Bellatrix's wand clattered to the floor next to her; she reached out, her hand inching across the wooden floor, trying to prevent Bellatrix from retrieving it. After her rush of adrenaline faded, she was weak.
The Snatchers were fighting against their own ropes, screaming uselessly against their gags. In a blink, she must have missed Draco disarming and binding everyone in the room. Hermione could feel his magic pulsing through the air, filling the room and wrapping her in comfort like a hug.
"What are you doing, Draco?! Where is my wand?"
Draco was now towering over Bellatrix; she had been thrown to the ground and bound with conjured ropes, her handless arm fastened against her chest, spilling blood over her black clothes. Bellatrix's dark eyes were unhinged as she watched him. Draco raised his foot and pressed it up against her throat, cutting off her airway with his eyes ablaze. Bellatrix gasped and struggled beneath him. With a trembling hand, he pointed his wand at her face.
"You," Draco's voice rumbled low in his chest, shaking with power and fury, "will not touch her! CRUCI—"
Hermione tried to push herself up on her forearms and fell back to the floor with a whimper, pain blinding her.
"Hermione," Draco breathed, lowering his wand; he ran to her, falling on his knees and collecting her gently in his arms. "Are you okay?" His voice broke as he smoothed her hair out of her eyes.
A series of twitches ran up and down her body. She opened her mouth to speak and lost the words, sinking into the feeling of his arms.
Draco looked at her with tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry." His chest heaved. "I didn't listen to you."
"THE DARK LORD WILL HEAR OF THIS, DRACO!" The shrill voice pierced the room, but it felt like white noise in the back of her mind.
The only thing Hermione could see or hear in that moment was Draco.
Her Draco.
He enveloped her, stroking her arms softly and cradling her as he muttered a string of comforting words through his tears. "I love you, you're so brave, you did so well, I'm proud of you." Hermione clung to him like a lifeline.
"Dear sister." Narcissa stepped casually through the doorway, her icy gaze displeased as she mended the door and silenced the room with a wave of her wand. "Why are you screaming? It is most impolite. Mother is rolling in her grave."
With her mobility limited, Bellatrix was flailing on the floor as she fought against the tight black ropes that spanned her body.
"Cissa! Help me, your son is a Blood Traitor!" she shrieked, gesturing with her eyes to Draco and Hermione's bent figures. "She admitted it! She is the Mudblood! We have Potter!"
"Yes. Pinky told me that you managed to capture them. Good work. The Dark Lord will be pleased with you," Narcissa began with frigid indifference. "Have you told anyone outside of this room?"
Bellatrix growled. "No, we needed to confirm Potter's identity before we went to the Dark Lord. The filthy Mudblood broke into my vault! She lied! I need to get answers from her before I give her to Greyback."
Narcissa's eyes flickered imperceptibly. "Did Greyback touch her?"
"Not until I am done with her. I am sure he has his plans for her disgusting body." Bellatrix sneered. "Unbind me, Cissa! What are you waiting for?"
A cold smile curled up Narcissa's lips. "That."
In quick succession, Narcissa flicked her wand twice to the corner of the room.
Gurgling noises erupted from the direction; the bound and gagged Snatchers had blood streaming out of identical slits across their throats. Their eyes were bulging in horror as their mouths moved against the gags, desperate for air that would never come.
Draco's arms tightened protectively around Hermione as a strangled cry escaped her lips.
"YOU DARE BETRAY THE DARK LORD?!"
"Winky," Narcissa called, ignoring her screaming sister.
With a pop, Winky appeared, her eyes wide at the sight of the freshly dead Snatchers and werewolf surrounded by a gathering pool of blood.
"Get Dobby. Tell him it is protocol red, in the cellar. He will know what to do."
Winky nodded, disappearing as quickly as she appeared.
"Why?" The stunned question came out between Bellatrix's ranting.
"I could do nothing less." Narcissa's voice dripped with apathy. "I will always take care of my family first."
"But I am your family."
"It is not the same." She turned sharply. "You are merely my sister." Her eyes fell on Hermione, still encased in Draco's loving embrace. "She is my daughter."
A scream shattered across the room. "It cannot be—you are lying! She is a Mudblood!"
Narcissa's features softened as she watched the careful way that Draco whispered softly in Hermione's ear, stroking her hair comfortingly as he rocked her. "They are bound." She straightened her posture. "I did lie to you, but not today. Andromeda and I cast the binding on Draco shortly after his birth."
Bellatrix froze, her body completely still. "No."
"Yes. We have known about her for years."
"No!" Her voice raised, hysterical. "It is not possible! His magic would never accept hers. He is a Black! She is a Mudblood! Impure! Her magic is stolen!"
"I will not allow you to call her that." Narcissa's disdain was evident. "When this is over, we will publicly claim her. She will never have to deal with the likes of you."
Bellatrix cackled wildly. "You think you will leave this unscathed?! The Dark Lord will destroy you for your betrayal!"
"Oh, dear sister." Narcissa's heels clicked against the floor and she paused in front of Bellatrix, bending down to meet her. She brushed her knuckles down Bellatrix's cheek. "He will never know."
Narcissa tutted softly. "Obliviate."
Bellatrix slumped forward, falling unconscious as Narcissa muttered under her breath, waving her wand over Bellatrix's head and stump.
"Mother?" Draco's arms tightened their hold around Hermione. "What do we do? Bellatrix will know she was Obliviated when she wakes up without a hand or memory."
"I have it controlled, dear. I am planting false memories of an argument with Greyback and his Snatchers over pay—they are always demanding more gold. She will believe it was Greyback who took off her hand and that she slaughtered them in retaliation. Apologies for the blood, it is her execution method of choice. No one will ever know that your friends were here. Dobby is in the cellar retrieving them as we speak."
Stroking a hand in slow wide circles on Hermione's back, his hand halted at her words. "Dobby?"
"Do pick your jaw off the floor, darling. What do you think I have been doing the past few years? Hosting tea?"
Draco stuttered; Hermione was too busy inhaling the smell of Draco's cologne to form a coherent thought.
"I am a natural born Occlumens, or did you forget? Who better to pass along information than someone at the heart of the Dark Lord's circle?" Narcissa sounded nonchalant even. "I fade into the background. They hardly notice I am even in the room."
"But how—when—"
"I spoke with Albus the moment I heard about your task for the Dark Lord. The Order set up our connections using Dobby's ability to navigate through the familial wards. Those bastards cannot tell two house-elves apart to save their lives."
Hermione's head caught up with Narcissa's words.
It all clicked together; this was how Dumbledore knew about Draco's mission last year. He had been working with Narcissa this entire time.
"Thank you." Hermione struggled with the words.
"You are family. I will stop at nothing to ensure our survival through this bloody war." Narcissa turned to Draco. "You have to say your goodbyes; she has to leave with Dobby. The Dark Lord could return at any moment and they cannot be here when he arrives."
Draco nuzzled his nose against her cheek, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her neck. "I just got you back. I can't say goodbye."
Forgetting to breathe, her lungs screamed for air. "We are so close," she promised, threading her hands into his hair.
Draco's lips slanted against hers, and she arched her neck up to meet him. Pouring herself into the kiss, she tried to take every moment of him that she could before she had to leave. She could kiss him for a hundred hours and it would never be enough.
"Did you see the way Bellatrix reacted when she thought we had been in her vault? I think we have to go there next. She must be hiding one of the pieces."
"You can't," Draco insisted. "You want to break into the Lestrange vault? On a hunch?"
Hermione shook her head. "All we have are hunches, Draco. We can find a way, we've found the others, I know that—"
Narcissa cleared her throat. "I have been with my sister to her vault a hundred times. Tell me what you need, and I will see what I can do. Do not accept any contact except through Dobby. I will not reach out in any other way."
As her eyes widened, Hermione gave a smile to Narcissa. "Thank you—for everything."
With a quick nod, Narcissa glanced at Bellatrix, still slumped over. "Dobby can bring you through the wards; you have to escape now."
"I'm so sorry," she whispered to Draco. "I'm trying, I—"
"It's enough," he promised her. "I love you." Draco's thumbs brushed away her tears as he cupped her cheeks, dropping kisses on her forehead, cheeks, and nose.
The first time he had said those words to her was at this Manor.
"I love you." Her voice broke. "The next time I see you, it'll be the end of this war." Her hand clutched her locket. "And Draco? Thank you for not listening to me."
Just like that, she disappeared with Dobby and the feeling in his chest dulled.
"I cannot believe she did not break, not even under Crucio," Narcissa marveled under her breath as she cleaned up the room, staging the Snatchers around Bellatrix and disposing of all evidence that the trio set foot in the Manor. "She truly is an exceptional witch."
"Oh, Mother, you don't know the half of it."
The newly-repaired door to the dining room flew open and Lucius stormed in, his hair disheveled as if he had run there instead of Apparated. "I felt the trigger in the wards. I left the meeting as soon as I could without raising the alarm." He looked around the room from the dead Snatchers to an unconscious Bellatrix. "Is she safe?" he asked, turning to Draco.
It was obvious he was not talking about Bellatrix.
Draco's gaze stuck to the spot where Hermione had been laying not five minutes before. "She's safe."
Lucius' eyes fluttered shut in relief and he nodded once. "Good." Opening his eyes, they skirted back to the Snatchers. "Have you modified Bellatrix's memories?"
Tossing Lucius a look, Narcissa made a soft noise. "Of course. Dobby said that Pettigrew found the children and was strangled by his own silver hand. No one alive outside of this room knows that they were ever here. Ollivander, the goblin, and the Lovegood girl left, as well. You will have to frame Pettigrew for their escape."
Agreeing with a kiss to Narcissa's temple, Lucius disappeared with a pop. Draco's mind raced as he processed the last half hour of his life.
"I can't believe you've been working with the Order this entire time," Draco said, incredulous.
"Despite your obvious lack of faith in us, your father and I do try to shield you whenever possible." Narcissa sniffed. "You should not have to shoulder the burdens from our decisions any more than necessary."
Draco hugged his mother for the first time in over a year. Though he towered over her as an adult, he still felt like a child in her arms. "Thank you."
She moved a piece of his hair back into place with an affectionate smile. "I hope you know how much I love you and Hermione. I would do anything for my children."
"I'm still your favourite, right?" Draco teased, the smile felt foreign on his cheeks.
"It has never been a competition, darling." With a shake of her head, Narcissa placed a kiss on his cheek. "Crookshanks has held that position for years."