**I don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe; if I did, things would have ended very differently and I wouldn't have a mountain of student loans.**
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Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands.
- Anne Frank
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When Draco reached the top of the stairs, he stopped for a moment and braced himself against the wood paneling. She was going to live. She was going to be okay.
Unfortunately, this created almost as many problems as it solved. There was a portkey waiting for him in London and he wanted nothing more than to take her to Italy, far away from any more danger or pain, but she wasn't one to run from a fight; if he knew anything about her, he knew that.
His mind drifted back to the copy of the Daily Prophet from downstairs. At least he finally had an answer to the "why" of the matter. All this time they were keeping her alive to further a propaganda scheme, in case they needed to take more hair. That was it. Polyjuice potion didn't work with a dead person as the subject of transformation. Nobody was even monitoring closely enough to piece together that she had nearly died. They were stuffed in that cell and forgotten about, known only to each other and a mute, half-blind house elf.
Draco couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there was a doppelganger of himself wandering about as well, but he didn't think there would be any tactical advantage in that. He knew his father and he would bet galleons for gargoyles that the man had locked him in the cell with Hermione as some twisted form of punishment for his transgression. The Dark Lord might not even know about it.
Now that he had said it out loud, spoken about what had actually happened, he was faced with the fact that he had risked everything, his own life, his mother's life, for a girl he didn't even like.
Then he realised what he was missing, the question he had failed to ask since getting out. Turning from the doorway to the bedroom, he ran back down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
"Blaise, Theo, my mother!" he shouted frantically. "What happened to my - ?"
He came up short. As if summoned, seated on the couch in the front parlor conversing in hushed tones with Theo and Blaise, sat Narcissa Malfoy.
"Draco," she breathed with a smile upon seeing him, getting to her feet and crossing the room in several long strides before pulling him tightly into her arms. Draco could see over her shoulder as Theo dragged Blaise from the room and shoved him in the direction of the kitchens.
"C'mon," he muttered, "you can see the finger."
Draco buried his head in his mother's neck and drew in several ragged breaths before she pushed his shoulders away from her and placed a hand on either side of his face, looking him over as she had when he was a boy, before releasing him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked in a shaking voice. They moved back to the sofa across from Hermione and sank down.
"I'm the one that told Blaise and Theodore where you were, did they not say?"
He shook his head no.
"That's alright, it appears things were rather more eventful than I had anticipated," she said, nodding across the room to the slumbering witch with a sly smile. "I can't stay for long, I'm meant to be meeting your father at Hogwarts."
"What – no, that's absurd, just come with us," he said with a bewildered expression, trying to understand why she would even consider such a thing.
"I'm sorry Draco, I can't do that."
"Why?" he demanded. "Because of father? Enough is enough mother, come, leave with us. Please."
"It was never about your father…"
"Don't say it's about me," he snapped at her, suddenly furious. "You don't get to put that on me, running off to die, claiming it's all for your son. Your son is here, and he's asking you not to go."
"My sweet boy," she said, reaching over and stroking his cheek. "I know I spoiled you, but you must know that not everything is about you, right? There is more than one person in play tonight whose life I care about."
"I don't understand," Draco said, still fuming. "Who else? If not me or father, who?"
"Severus."
A still, silent moment passed between them while he tried to comprehend what she had said.
"You're in love with Snape?!" he exclaimed, looking as though he might be ill.
"Oh, heavens no," she laughed softly. "But I do love him. He's been my best friend as long as you've been alive Draco; he's your Godfather, he risked his own life last year because I asked it of him. I love you endlessly darling, but there was someone there for me long before you were old enough to realize what my lot in life truly was."
He looked dazed, huffing out a shocked breath as he fell back into the cushions behind him.
"All this time? You and Snape… how did I not know this?"
"Children often see only what they want to see with regards to their parents," she said, looking over her shoulder at the darkening sky. "Draco, you need to know how sorry I am. For all the hurt, all the loss. I have a great many regrets, but none more so than having to watch you be tempered and scarred by the darkness in your own home."
He leaned forward and pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets until starbursts appeared, not knowing how to respond.
"I need to go," she said, standing with a sigh. "I've already stayed too long. Someone is going to notice."
"Please, please come with us," he pleaded, pulling his hands away and looking up into her face, lined prematurely with years of pain and heartache.
"You'll be okay," she said, pushing an errant piece of hair off his forehead. "Go to Italy with Blaise and Theodore. Take Miss Granger with you if she'll allow it."
"It's not me that I'm bloody concerned about!" he shouted, feeling as though he were watching everything slip through his fingers, still as helpless as he had been when he was locked away in the cell. "Why is it that everyone I care about is so desperate to run into the line of fire under the pretence of loyalty?!"
"Surely you understand by now that there are people worth running into a fire for," she said, a knowing glint in her eye. "Those boys in the kitchen were ready to march into battle the minute I told them where you were being held."
She hesitated for a moment, selecting her words judiciously. "Take care of her, Draco. I've seen what loss can do to a man and it's not something that I wish for you. Don't let your heart be hardened because of the mistakes other people have made."
He breathed heavily for a moment and then got to his feet, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug against his chest.
"Please don't die, mum," he whispered.
"I'll certainly try not to, my dragon."
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Hermione blinked her eyes open slowly, her heart sinking as she took in the dimly lit room around her. It took a moment to register that it was not the same dimly lit room that she had grown accustomed to.
"Drake said to keep the lighting low so it didn't hurt your eyes," a voice explained to her from nearby. She looked over and saw two boys, men really, sitting side by side on a dark green sofa, staring at her.
She recognized them vaguely from school as Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, or Theo, as Draco had referred to him.
Blaise looked to be about as tall as Draco, but he was more muscular, with broad shoulders and a dark complexion. He had a chiseled jaw and an angled nose, with deeply set almond-shaped eyes. Theo looked a bit more like Draco in his features, aristocratic and sharp, but he was smaller in stature and naturally slim. He had a wavy mop of dark brown hair on top of his head, which contrasted with pale skin.
"Where -" she started but stopped to clear her throat when her voice cracked. Theo gestured to the table between them that held a tray with sandwiches, glasses of water, and tea. She gratefully sat up and took a long draft from one of the water glasses before trying to speak again. "Where am I?"
"Nott Manor," Theo answered. "For which I am deeply sorry."
She must have looked alarmed because Blaise rolled his eyes at his friend before turning to her.
"He's sorry because he hates the place, not because you aren't safe here," he explained.
"Oh," she said dumbly, still trying to get her bearings. With a start, she ripped the sleeve of her jumper up to examine her arm, gasping when she saw it was back to normal – or, as normal as it was ever going to be with 'Mudblood' carved into it. She ran her hand over the puckered, newly healed flesh and shivered a little. "What happened? How did we get out? Where's Draco?"
"We rescued you," Blaise said haughtily, puffing his chest out a little, "and Draco is upstairs taking a much-needed shower."
"Speaking of which, I need to go find some clothes for him so he's not wandering around starkers," Theo said, getting to his feet. "If you'll excuse me."
"How did you find us?" she asked Blaise, who had settled back into the cushions on the sofa across from her after Theo disappeared. She leaned forward and grabbed a sandwich off the tray on the table and started eating. She didn't catch the dark, fleeting look Blaise gave the food as she did so.
"Drake's mum tipped us off about a week ago that you were being held at the Lestrange's – we'd been sitting on our hands and waiting for the go-ahead to get you out when it finally came earlier today."
She processed this information, coming to grips with the fact that she had been, rather heroically, rescued by two Slytherins.
"Is Draco alright? I wasn't… I think it's been a few days since I was properly coherent."
"He was running around like a man possessed trying to save your life this afternoon, but yeah, other than that he seems okay."
"What happened today? I mean, why did you come for us today specifically?"
"That is perhaps something I should let Draco fill you in on," he said hesitantly.
They lapsed into silence for a moment before he exclaimed, "Oh, I have your wand! Maybe. Possibly."
He produced a handful of eight or so from his pocket and she leaned forward to examine them, her heart leaping when she spotted her own vinewood wand. She reached her hand out and grabbed it, nearly crying with relief at the familiar feeling of the wood beneath her fingers.
"Look," Blaise started slowly, in a serious tone, "I don't really know you, and I don't know exactly what happened between you two while you were locked in that cell - frankly I don't want to. All I ask is that you please not hurt my friend. Draco has been through a lot and, more than almost anyone I know, he deserves a little peace."
She sat stock still, stunned by the change of topic. "I wouldn't… At least not purposely…"
"Good enough," Blaise said quickly, waving her off and looking distinctly uncomfortable. Theo reappeared in the doorway.
"He was just getting out if you want to head up," he said. "First door on your left."
She nodded in gratitude and made to leave the room when she noticed a newspaper on the end table next to her. She looked down at the cover and her eyes went wide.
"What the fuck?"
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After Narcissa left, Draco went back upstairs to the bedroom Theo had directed him to and stripped off his stiff, somewhat malodorous clothes before stepping into a shower in the adjoining loo.
Hot water streamed over his back and, much like when he sat in the chair downstairs, he was shocked at how grateful he was for something as simple as a shower.
Once he was clean, he stepped out and looked at himself in the mirror over the sink. His hair was longer than he usually let it get, falling forward across the side of his forehead. His face, though flushed from the hot water, looked somewhat sallow and sunken in, with dark circles under his eyes.
Before his mother departed, he had asked her if she knew where his wand was and she said she didn't, that both his and hers had been taken in the Malfoy drawing room a month ago. After she'd disarmed him, for fear that Bellatrix would kill him on the spot if she saw him trying to protect Hermione, Potter had disarmed her. She hadn't accounted for Lucius.
He grabbed the confiscated wand off the vanity and flicked it, performing a shaving charm and vanishing the hair that drifted into the sink in front of him. That, more than anything, made him feel more like himself. He vowed never to grow a beard again if he could help it – they itched.
He cast one more spell to brush his teeth before he wrapped a towel around his hips and crossed back into the bedroom to find that Theo had laid an assortment of clothes on the bed. He selected a pair of plain, black trousers, a dark green oxford shirt, and black loafers. He was a bit taller than his friend, so he had to transfigure the hem of the pants after pulling them on.
Turning and crossing the room he put his hand on the door that led back into the hall. As he twisted the knob and pulled it open, he froze, because behind the door, raising her fist to knock, was Hermione.
They stood and stared at one another, and he felt himself holding his breath. Were things different now that they were no longer in a bubble? Would she want to pretend none of it had happened? Could he bear it if she did?
He had his answer a second later when she dove forward and buried her head in his chest, choking out a sob. He brought his arms up to lock around her shoulders and hold her there.
"I thought," she gasped, shoulders shaking. "I thought I was going to die. I didn't think we'd ever... that I'd ever..."
"Shh, it's okay, you're okay," he said softly, his chin resting on top of her head. She cried for another moment before pulling away and looking up at him.
"All of this just to keep me alive to further a bloody propaganda campaign," she said angrily, shaking her head violently and wiping tears from beneath her eyes. "I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see the proof myself."
"Did Theo and Blaise fill you in? Did you get your wand?"
She nodded, pulling the slim piece of vinewood from her pocket. He took a slow breath, still trying to make himself believe that she was no longer dying.
"Why don't you get cleaned up and then we can talk, yeah?"
Disinclined though he was to let her out of his sight again, he knew the clock was ticking and there were conversations that needed to be had.
She nodded again and stepped around him into the bedroom before crossing to the loo. Her eyes locked on him once more, seeming as reluctant as he was to be separated, before the door shut between them with a click.
Draco turned back to the hall and attempted to steady himself before descending the stairs.
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A/N: Our story begins to to pick-up next chapter; check back for 13 on 11/6!
Much gratitude to my beta, TanzaniteWrites.