tw: mentions of death
"Draco.." she heard herself say but, it took her mind minutes to register each letter that passed through her lips.
He looked different or maybe, after such a long time in captivity, her mind had finally started to play games. The truth was, she wasn't sure how long it had been.
Time had lost its meaning long ago. And Hermione relied on counting seconds, to document what her life had become.
To document the length of tortures she had endured in Bellatrix Lestrange's hands.
Count to 100.
Count to 349.
Count to 881.
Count to 1650.
Count to 3590.
The brightest witch of her age, and one third of the inseparable trio that was supposed to save Britain's magical community from the impending doom, was reduced to nothing but a number.
Even Though she had been branded by Bellatrix herself, she had done her best to avoid staring at the numbers carved on her right arm.
She had no idea what the numbers meant.
But, she could distinctly remember how long the pain had lasted.
Count to 9183.
"Draco…" she continued to sob, rattling the cage she was in. Hermione felt her throat burn, with each scream, and she didn't stop even after his long figure disappeared into the shadows.
For the first time, in months, Hermione had seen new faces and despite who he had become since the death of Dumbledore, a part of her was relieved to see him. She wouldn't have minded if he decided to mock her blood status or worse. She was convinced that Draco would be much gentler than Bellatrix had been.
And that was what she had craved the most, gentleness.
She had noticed that he looked different. He was taller, his shoulders were broader and his grey eyes were filled with a certain kind of determination that she had seen in only a few people in her short life. It felt so good to see a familiar face, even if it was Draco Malfoy's, that she couldn't stop sobbing, a heavy reminder that the world outside had moved on.
Hermione remembered snippets of that unfaithful day, when their hopes and dreams came crashing like a heavy rainfall. She remembered Hagrid carrying Harry's lifeless body, the loud screams that grew and grew and then, deafened her ears and despite the chaos they found themselves in, she could remember the small glimpse of his blonde hair in a sea of black and green.
It was a day that had changed her life forever. A day that had reminded her of a fundamental life lesson; do not ever get overconfident.
Because that had brought their downfall.
She was overconfident in her understanding of horcruxes and how they worked. She was overconfident that three of them could find them all and defeat the Dark Lord.
She didn't stop Harry or Ron when they believed that they could do it easily.
And yet, for the first time in her life, she was proven wrong.
And it cost her dearly.
Hermione's sobs quieted but she didn't relax her hold on the rusty bars of the cage. She pulled her knees closer and prayed, and prayed.
She prayed that her friends were all dead.
She prayed that they were at peace instead of feeling the pain and the torture that followed aftermath their defeat.
Draco followed Rodolphus through the dark hallways, taking his time.
His ears were filled with the loud beats of his heart. His brows knitted together, he curled his fingers into fists and kept them in his pockets.
The sensation was new, and it threatened to strip his blackened soul, to reveal a part of himself that he had long left behind with the happier days of his youth.
Muffled screams filled the large staircase, Bellatrix was having a fit upstairs and the portraits of the pureblood Lestrange ancestors shifted in unison; some shaking their heads in disapproval and some couldn't hide their shock.
"Uncle.." Draco spoke and paused mid-step.
He rarely called Rodolphus uncle, acknowledging him as family. "Yes?" the dark wizard looked over his shoulder, seemingly surprised.
"It seems to me that Aunt Bella is slowly becoming a liability", it was a carefully worded comment thrown Rodolphus' way who received it by turning to face Draco, taking a few steps down to tower over his nephew who was about five centimeters taller than him.
"What are you implying, Draco?" Rodolphus asked, "If I were you, I'd choose my words very carefully."
A threat.
Just like he had expected.
"The manor is restless, even I can feel the magic slowly shift. Just for how long do you think your ancestral seat will tolerate her madness and all the dirty blood spilled across its grounds?" It was a hard question to comprehend for those that weren't part of the landed pureblood aristocracy.
But the answer was rather simple.
Rodolphus shifted on his feet, his shoulders slumped, he stared at the walls and at the faces of his ancestors who watched his wife lose control, in disappointment and disgust.
He could hear their disapproving whispers daily.
"How long before the manor will choose to protect itself?"
Rodolphus remained silent. He knew that Draco was making a valid point.
There was a long history behind each aristocratic house, documenting the magical folk's arrival to Britain. Pureblood families stood out for their ideals and politics and ambition and the meaning and the history behind their names. Blood magic ensured a binding agreement when it came to the aristocrats and the lands they lived on. The manor that the Lestrange family had occupied since early fifteen century, just like other manors across magical Britain, had an important task, to preserve the history of the Lestrange family.
And thus, it had the power to reject the Lestrange heirs if it thought they could bring harm and shame to the family's name, and that meant the manor would be locked as if covered in thousands of wards, until a worthy heir would come along.
The shame that came with losing the family estate was enormous.
Only a few such cases had taken place over the centuries, and none of the purebloods that experienced it lived long enough to reverse their fortunes.
"Think of your brother, uncle. You and Aunt Bella have failed to produce heirs. I have no doubt you tried but, we both know how she feels about children" Draco couldn't help but smirk. "So, I assume that this manor and the responsibility to continue the Lestrange legacy will pass down to Rabastan instead" a brow raised, Draco challenged Rodolphus to interfere, to stop him but, he was met with silence instead.
"Mother told me how he has always followed in your steps, in pure adoration. He received the Dark Mark after you and only because, he wanted to be like his elder brother. Will you allow him to follow you in embracing Aunt Bella's madness? Will you ruin his chances of becoming the great Lord of this great house, one day?"
"What do you want, Draco?" Rodolphus finally asked, a dark expression on his face that was hard to decipher.
"I want you to do the right thing. For your family's sake. For your bloodline's sake"
"And what is the right thing?"
"Allow me to take care of her. After all, I feel responsible now that I am the head of the House Black and we both know how much pride she carries in her lineage" Draco spoke and took a step forward to come face to face with Rodolphus.
His expression hardened, he leaned forward as if whispering a secret and all the portraits around them scooted closer as if desperate to hear the latest gossip.
"The longer she stays here, the longer she puts us all in danger and I know you are a smart wizard, Uncle. Give her to me for sometime and I promise you that I will help you hand deliver her to her lover. In one piece, of course. And you can get all the credit for being an amazing, caring husband and a loyal servant to the Dark Lord."
"What do you want in return, Draco? It's hard to imagine that you would have her best interest at heart. Plus, do you really think she will agree to move to Malfoy manor? And sit on the same table as your father and share a meal?"
Valid point. Draco straightened his shoulders, and clicked his tongue.
"Who says she will be staying at the Malfoy manor? You know Uncle, mother is still upset over the ruined carpets and the flooring in the drawing room from the last time Aunt Bella decided to play. You know how much she values Malfoy history and she tries her best to take care of every single artifact in the house."
Rodolphus nodded.
Despite his dislike towards Lucius Malfoy, he had always had a soft spot for Narcissa; the most perfect example of an ideal pure-blooded wife. It was a shame that her sisters didn't emulate her.
"Mother is very fond of Italy this time of year. She will take Aunt Bella, if you allow it, to our estate on Lake Como" Draco spoke.
Despite his upbringing, he found it to be incredulous that he had to ask Rodolphus' permission to send Bellatrix on a trip with her sister. However, it was a common pureblood courtesy, after all, a pureblood wife never travelled abroad without her husband or his approval. And Draco was raised just right by his parents.
"Ah.." he raised his finger, "I forgot to add that grandmother will be there as well. Just quite time between a mother and her two daughters."
Rodolphus' eyes widened at the revelation.
He hadn't had the privilege to see Druella Black since Bellatrix's imprisonment in Azkaban. And despite her strong, old fashioned pureblood ideals, Druella was a force to be reckoned with. She had always been very vocal about the reckless behavior of her daughter. And if she was pulled out of shadows, it meant that Draco was serious about his intentions.
"You didn't have to drag my mother in law, Draco" Rodolphus calmly responded, lifting a brow.
"Oh, but I had to, Uncle. Shall I remind you of your prenuptial agreement?" Draco asked.
Rodolphus looked around and narrowed his eyes, grabbing his nephew by his collar. Draco chuckled, raising his hands.
"Did you forget that I am the head of the House Black? That forces me to be aware of all binding contracts signed by all living descendants, including Aunt Andromeda and her half-blood freak of a grandson." Rodolphus stared into Draco's eyes before he slowly lowered his hands.
"Did you really think that Aunt Bella would be an exemption?" Draco straightened his shoulders, smirking at the portraits around them, while he fixed his tie.
"It is very simple, Uncle. You inform your wife that you allow her to go on a family trip with mother and grandmother. You tell her that you encourage her, that she needs to get her wits together to face the Dark Lord in a month's time. And I will make sure that grandmother hears nothing of your indiscretions and mistakes maybe, by doing so, you will be able to secure Rabastan's inheritance."
Rodolphus lowered his head in defeat, Draco saw a hint of vulnerability veiling his harsh features. And he quickly noticed Rodolphus' hands curled into fists, his knuckles turning white.
"Bella always praises your skills, Draco but, it would have never occurred to me how sly you truly are" he finally spoke, after some minutes of silence. The tension grew and yet, Draco remained unfazed, keeping his head high and his broad shoulders straight.
"Malfoy and Black bloodlines make the best combination, Rodolphus, wouldn't you agree?" Draco smirked and brushed past his uncle, making his way upstairs. Rodolphus noticed how the young wizard's tone had changed, it made him shiver on the spot.
And for the first time, in years, Rodolphus saw the danger that lurked behind the grey hues of Draco's eyes.
"On one condition" he spoke, taking a few steps forward.
Draco raised a brow, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. Finally, he thought to himself.
They could finally begin negotiating.
Draco listened and extended his hand to bind their little agreement.
When they finally entered the sitting room on the second floor, Draco nodded in the direction of his mother.
His facial muscles relieved for the first time in weeks.
And Narcissa noticed.
A week prior, he found his mother in the sitting room. She had greeted him with a worried expression on her face. He looked tired if the dark circles under his eyes were any indicator of how many hours he spent working at the Ministry and serving the Dark Lord. Narcissa was aware of it all and Draco hated, more than anything, to make his mother worry. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple and sat across her, crossing his legs. Narcissa extended him a cup of tea and Draco took a long sip, tilting his head backwards, closing his eyes.
"What is it, Draco? What's bothering you?"
Hearing his mother's voice made Draco relax his shoulders. Her voice was enough to make him feel safe. She was the only woman in his life who was capable of doing just that.
"I am sure you know, mother" he looked straight into Narcissa's eyes.
"Is it the mud-" she paused, clearing her throat, Narcissa lowered her voice, by habit, "the muggle girl?" she asked.
The rumors spread like fire once Bellatrix had gone through her batch of war prizes, leaving the one that mattered the most to the Dark Lord and everyone else, to last. And when the confirmation came from Bellatrix's mouth, Draco felt his world shaken. He couldn't explain why. After all, he spent a significant portion of his life hating on the girl, and making sure her life was miserable. He felt uneasy, certainly disturbed that she ended up in the hands of his mad aunt.
It should have been someone else.
A voice deep within the crevices of his mind, spoke. Draco furrowed his brows and stared at the antique teacup in his hand.
"No one deserves to die in Bella's hands" he spoke, minutes later.
"Not like that," he added.
Narcissa sighed in relief, for months since the end of the war, she felt like she was losing the Draco that she had known and raised. She could see it in his eyes, the light fading replaced by nothing but darkness. He moved differently, spoke differently, finally she realized he was becoming the version of Draco that Lucius had always wanted. One that was ruthless, cold-blooded, calculative and manipulative. Despite her upbringing in the hands of Druella, Narcissa was a different kind of pure-blood mother. She valued her son's happiness above all, and wanted him to be himself, no matter what, not swayed by his father's ideals and dreams for him. And for the majority of Draco's life, Narcissa did just that. Until, Draco was made a Death Eater and she slowly felt she was losing him. Draco, in many ways, was like his mother. He would do anything for his family, especially for her. And maybe, deep down, Narcissa had hoped that the war would have a different outcome. But, of course, all that would have to remain buried and unspoken until the end of her life.
"I will write to mama. It had been a while since Bella and I visited" she didn't have to say much for Draco to understand the meaning behind her words.
Narcissa was sharp and she could tell that there was something about the girl because, for the second time, Draco had shown interest, concern.
It was a trait that Narcissa thought he had forgotten. It was a relief really. And she was suddenly determined to do her best in aiding him in whatever plans he had.
A cold shiver and Hermione extended her legs forward, stretching them. It was such an amazing feeling to be able to do so, that she shivered and sighed in relief. She then felt the softness under her back, and at that, she opened her eyes wide and sat up.
She wasn't in her cage any longer.
That was why she could stretch her legs and arms. She stared blankly unable to comprehend.
The last thing she remembered was a tiny house elf appearing in front of her eyes with a loud pop. He had brought her a glass of water and urged her to drink it before "Lady Lestrange had returned".
And then, it was darkness.
She couldn't remember a thing.
Except now, she was in bed, and under soft, silk covers. She felt the bandages around her fingers and arms, constricting their movement, and brushing roughly against the softness of the silk. The fireplace was on and she struggled to adjust to the warmth that had enveloped her. She couldn't tell if the room was dark because, of the color palette or because, she was still in the dungeons and Bellatrix was about to play a new game.
"It's three in the morning, Granger" she recognized the voice, spotting a figure in the corner of the room. Though she couldn't make out his clothing, she could make out his blonde hair that turned into a shade of platinum under the soft moonlight. Panic washed over her and before, she could start hyperventilating, she heard him speak again.
"You are safe."
And with that, she burst into tears.
Author's note: Thank you very much for following this story. This is my first Dramione fic and I wanted to put it in writing. This week the updates are a bit sporadic but, starting next week; the updates will be on Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. xoxo