"What is wrong with you?" Lucius followed him as he left the Drawing Room, looking at him with nothing but contempt. Draco didn't pay him attention. "I told you to get close to her, not make her promises." He spat that last word as if it was venom in his mouth.
"Don't you think you've fucked with my life enough, father?" Draco spat back. If Lucius was taken by surprise, he didn't show it. "I'm done taking orders from you."
His father scoffed. "You're taking orders from her now?"
"Was it you?" Draco asked, ignoring his question. He'd seen the way Lucius looked at the Snatcher's mock trial. He had been visibly angry, barely even trying to hide it. He may have thought people would believe the anger was directed at the Snatcher for trying to kill Granger but Draco knew his father better than that.
The silence on Lucius' part was all he needed. Suddenly, his wand was in his hand and his father was pressed against the wall, Draco's forearm pressed against his neck.
"How dare you attack me in my house?" Lucius managed to growl, not without difficulty and regardless of his position.
"You bastard," Draco spat back. "You will pay for this."
"You are my son and will start behaving as such, or lose the benefits of that position."
A bitter smile appeared on Draco's lips. "Watch me."
"Draco!" His mother's voice called his name, behind him, her voice anxious. "What are you doing? Release your father immediately."
"Did you know about this?" He asked without even looking at her, his grip still tight on Lucius and on his own wand.
"Did I know about what?"
Draco scoffed. "Your husband tried to have Hermione killed."
He was about to take his mother's silence as a confirmation but a look at her told him otherwise. Unwillingly, Draco released his father, while Narcissa stepped forward, now pointing her own wand at him.
"Expelliarmus!" Lucius's wand flew in her hand. "I hoped you wouldn't sink this low, Lucius."
"So what if I tried to kill her? What are you going to do about it?" His eyes flickered back and forth between Draco and his mother.
Draco shook his head, seeing Hermione walking towards them from the hallway that led to the Drawing Room, unaware of what was happening. "I'm sick of you. You're on your own."
Hermione furrowed her brows questioningly at him, as she walked into the hall they were in. "Draco?" He reached for her hand and locked their fingers together, pulling her closer to him. "And Mrs. Malfoy, good evening." Her voice was unsure as she observed the scene.
"It's lovely to see you, Miss Granger," his mother replied with one of her characteristic smiles. "Alive." His father scoffed at that and Narcissa stepped closer to him.
"What's this about?"
His hand tightened around hers. "My father tried to have you killed."
Hermione raised a brow. "So it was you all along. Why?"
Lucius looked at her with as much contempt as he was capable of. "If you thought I would let a Mudblood into my family, you're dead wrong. Emphasis on dead."
Draco clenched his teeth and raised his wand, taking a step towards him, but Hermione stopped him.
"He's not worth it," she calmly said.
Narcissa raised her chin. "Miss Granger, I apologize on behalf of the Malfoy family for my husband's actions."
"You shouldn't have to apologize, Mrs. Malfoy, you had nothing to do with this." Hermione looked at him and Draco nodded, catching her unspoken question. She then turned back at his parents. "If you will both follow me, please…"
With her hand still in his, Hermione turned around and walked back where she came from – the Drawing Room. Almost all of the Death Eaters were still there, mostly gathered up in small groups, talking.
"Dolohov," Hermione called, gathering the attention of the few in their proximity. "Good, you're still here."
"Miss Granger, what can I do for you?" Dolohov was his usual dashing self.
Hermione gave him a tight smile and called for the attention of the whole room, letting go of his hand and stepping forward. "In light of recent events, it would seem Lucius Malfoy is the one behind my attempted murder and the seemingly plot against Dolohov."
"Is he now?" Dolohov interrupted her, with a smirk on his face. Bellatrix giggled maniacally, although she seemed genuinely amused – that Lucius tried to kill Hermione, that he was about to die or that Hermione had almost died, he had no idea. People were muttering and whispering among themselves all around the room.
"I had it with the Snatcher, so this one's up to you, Dolohov," Hermione continued. "As this was as much about my death as it was about framing you for it."
"I get to decide?" He asked, raising a brow at her. Hermione nodded. Dolohov looked at his father intently, then at his mother. "I'm sorry, Narcissa. Avada Kedavra!"
A shot of green light colored the room and Lucius's body dropped dead.
His mother closed her eyes for a long second and then cleared her throat. "Leave. All of you."
Death Eaters started Disapparating, all except a few. Bellatrix and her husband, along with his brother, merely left the room. The did, after all, live there.
"Missy," his mother called. The elf appeared immediately. "Please prepare my husband's body for burial." The creature bowed her head with sad eyes – more sad for Narcissa and himself than for Lucius, Draco was sure – and disappeared with him.
"Mrs. Malfoy, I'm sorry," Hermione said once they were alone. Draco put his hand on her lower back, drawing her near. She had nothing to be sorry for.
Narcissa gave her a weak smile. "Don't be. My husband knew there would be consequences for his actions and what he did to you was not acceptable." She sighed and walked towards them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. "I want you to know you're welcome in our family, Hermione, if and when the time will come."
Hermione smiled back. "Thank you."
His mother nodded and left the room. "Go back to Hogwarts, you two. It's late."
Draco sighed and bowed to kiss Hermione's forehead. "Come on."
They walked back to the main fireplace, the one enabled to Floo to Hermione's room back at Hogwarts, and walked into it.
"You should have let me kill him," Draco muttered once they were back in her room.
Hermione shook her head. "It's not worth any more blood on your hands, Draco."
It was Draco's turn to shake his head. "He tried to have you killed, Hermione. He's been brainwashing me for as long as I can remember and he's never failed to fuck with my life whenever it suited him. I, for one, think it's bloody worth it."
"I'm sorry, Draco," Hermione whispered, taking his hand. Incredibly enough, she looked sorry too.
"Stop saying that. You have nothing to be sorry for," he sighed. "I need a drink." He looked around at the fireplace, expecting to find the familiar fake ottoman in which he kept his Firewhisky, but didn't find it. They were in Hermione's room. He let out a sigh again and sat on the small couch, pulling her down with him.
Hermione crossed her legs on one of his, as she usually did, and rested against his side. He put his arm around her and lighted up the fireplace with his wand so the room would warm up. If someone had told him he'd end up with Hermione Granger pressed into him on her couch, minutes after the execution of his father for trying to kill her, he would have thought it was a tasteless joke. Yet here they were.
"Actually…" Hermione muttered and left her spot, standing up and going to her closet. Draco furrowed his brows. After a minute or so she came back with a black clutch in her hands, the one she'd had at the welcome ball for Karkaroff. She sat back in her spot against him and opened it, then pulled out a Shrunk half-full bottle of Firewhisky from it, handing it to him. "I took it from Theo at the ball, he was trying to spike the drinks," she explained with an amused smile. "I'd forgotten it was even there."
Draco let out a laugh and kissed her. "Always the Slytherin." He spelled it back to his original size and took a sip, feeling the familiar burn down his throat, then passed it to her.
Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "You know I don't drink before dinner."
He rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile. "Speaking of, I think I'm just going to get drunk instead."
His girlfriend grimaced but didn't complain. "Do you want me to bring you something back for later?"
"No, it's fine. I think I've lost my appetite."
As he finally left Hermione's room, after she'd gone to dinner, Draco felt something pulling his arm. His instinctive reaction was to grip his wand and point it in the general direction where the person would be standing but there was no one behind him. At least, no one he could see.
"Calm down, it's Ginny," he heard a voice whisper so low he could barely hear it. Draco rolled his eyes and opened his bedroom door, holding the door so she could come in, and then closed it behind him.
The Weaselette took off the Invisibility Spell once she was into the room and turned to face him, looking around.
"The Heads' bedrooms are so much nicer here than in Gryffindor tower," she muttered absently.
Draco snorted at that. "Well, that's not surprising. And here I thought you'd be working on that damn spell I gave you, instead of bothering me."
He hadn't met with the Gryffindors again after their last encounter – twice was enough. Instead, he'd made a copy of the spell and Transfigured it in a simple black quill he'd levitated into the Weaselette's bag during class. It was a much safer approach for him than meeting up with them anyway.
"We're just wondering when the best time to do it is," she muttered.
Draco raised a brow at her. "What am I, your chief strategist? Go find another Slytherin to exploit, Merlin knows you need it. Hermione and I have done our part and I'm done with all of you."
It was her turn to raise a brow at him, now. "Hermione?"
"Yes, Hermione. She knows I gave you the spell and that's it for us. It's too dangerous for her to outright rebel now he's gone and, frankly, she doesn't want to."
Weaselette seemed skeptical of his words but she nodded nonetheless and sighed. "Fine, I'll ask Blaise. I just thought you would have more information."
"None of the information I have is relevant to choosing a time. And do ask Zabini, you bunch could use some lessons in subtlety." Honestly, approaching him like that when anyone could be watching. All it took was an Invisibility Spell or even a well-cast Disillusionment one and she was just too thick to see it.
"Relax, everyone is at dinner," she rolled her eyes and sighed.
Draco narrowed his eyes. "We're not."
"And?"
He closed his eyes for a few seconds and wondered how they had even managed to stay alive so long. "And if I'm here and you're here too, how can you possibly know who's at dinner and who's not? You're pretty much leading the resistance from inside the school, people are going to notice you're missing. "
"You're paranoid."
"Paranoid keeps you alive. Now I have to go to dinner because of you." The Weaselette raised a brow, questioningly. Draco sighed again. "You have to get out of my room and normal people just don't open and close doors to let out invisible people, do they now? I need a reason to get out of here so you can get out too and the only place I can go is dinner unless I want to sit alone in the common room doing nothing."
Draco ignored her scoff and poured some of the whiskey in Theo's bottle in a flask he found on his desk. If he could not get drunk in his room, he'd get drunk at dinner. Either way, there was no way he would finish the night sober. After he was done, he turned back around and noticed the youngest Weasley at least had had the decency to put back the Invisibility Spell on herself.
"Don't follow me to dinner too or I'll hex you into next month," he muttered and opened the door so she could get out before him, then quickly left his bedroom and closed back the door after himself.
He was admittedly more than late for dinner when he stepped into the Great Hall. Some from the Slytherin part of the seventh-year table looked at him when he came in but quickly went down to their business. He ignored them and took a seat next to Hermione, who was looking at him quite confused.
"I thought you weren't hungry," she whispered so that the ones around them wouldn't hear.
He sighed and grabbed his glass, pouring some of the contents of the flask inside. "Change of plans. I'll tell you later."
"So how was your day, mate?" Theo asked, eying his glassful of whiskey.
Draco showcased his most Slytherin smirk and directed it at him, taking a sip of his drink. "It was okay, actually. Only one person died today."
Theo scoffed. "That's your standard?"
"Pretty much, Lord Nott," said with a mocking voice, bending his head slightly.
Theo visibly clenched his teeth for a short second and then nodded imperceptibly, then laughed a humorless laugh. "Feeling quite fancy tonight, aren't we?"
Draco knew he'd understand. The custom of using the title of Lord was quite disused in most Pureblood circles, only the actual Lords still used it among themselves. Hermione understood too, as she put a hand on his thigh under the table and his quickly found its way on top of hers.
"How was it?" Hermione asked as he stepped out of her fireplace.
Draco snorted and threw his scarf on the sofa, joining her on the bed. "It was something, that's for sure."
Lucius' Malfoy funeral had been dreary at best. Calling it a funeral was an overstatement, really, it had only been Draco and Narcissa standing over his father's gravestone. Lucius' grave was in the family crypt, like the rest of the family, accessed through the tunnels under the Manor. The elves had buried him and quickly left, as they couldn't afford outsiders wandering about on the grounds of the Malfoy property, filled with Death Eaters. Outsiders were not welcome in times of war.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry it had to be like this."
He sighed and took her hand. "He tried to kill you. Why are you sorry for him?"
She furrowed her brows at him and closed the book she was reading. "I'm not sorry for him, Draco, I'm sorry for you. I know he wasn't the best father but he was still family."
"Family is the people you deem as such, not the people who were assigned to you at birth. I'm not sorry and you shouldn't be either."
Hermione gave him a weak smile and rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you think they'll go through with it? With the spell?"
He'd told her about his encounter with Ginny Weasley when they got back from dinner but it seemed neither knew what to make of it. "Sounds like they will. Plus, it's Potter. He just needs to play hero, that's his brand." He felt a light punch in his ribcage and smiled.
"He just wants to help. He thinks all of this is his fault."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Except we all know it's the Weasel's fault."
"Draco…" Hermione started but didn't add anything else.
"It's true. He broke the taboo and you were all captured because of him. He couldn't shut his mouth to save his own damn life. Now he's dead and you're a murderer because of him."
"It wasn't his fault, Draco. It was the Horcrux," she sighed.
"He wasn't wearing the necklace."
"Well, I don't blame him. Plus, something good came out of it in the end, didn't it?"
Draco felt her smile on his shoulder and smiled back. Something good did come out of it but at what cost?