A/N: Sorry for the terrible cliffhanger last week! Thank you for all of your kind words. I love this chapter, and I hope you will too!
AlphaBet love to BiscuitsForPotter and DisenchantedGlow for their keen eyes.
Draco took in the charred remnants of the Westenberg house. Gone were the familiar, comfortable rooms he had come to know and love so much. All that remained was an ashen wasteland—a scene played out from some of his very worst nightmares.
Fiendfyre, Potter had told them after a brief investigation. It explained the rapid spread and the utter devastation of everything within the wards.
His throat was tight and his stomach felt heavy. Everything else felt rather… numb. But his heart thudded a steady rhythm in his chest, reminding him that—against all reason and karmic justice—he was still here.
Around him, the survivors and rescuers searched the wreckage in somber silence. They had hoped, upon initially arriving, that they would find more… some part of the house that had not been destroyed, and even, perhaps, a survivor within. As the minutes passed, however, this hope waned.
Draco kept expecting Granger to approach him, tears in her eyes and her hair wild. But as he took in the desolation around him, he realized that she wouldn't.
She couldn't.
She was gone.
An eerie twinge traveled across his skin and through every organ in his body as he recognized his current surroundings for what they were: his old bedroom. There was no second level now. Everything that was recognizable was exposed to the night air in a desolate field of ruin.
She couldn't have survived. There was no way. His brain fought for him to see the reality of what had happened, but his heart raged against it, refusing to accept that she was truly gone.
But there was nothing left. The ceiling and walls of the house had crumbled, reduced to debris by the flames. Dust and ash floated in the air as Draco slowly made his way through the remains, stepping over rubble and looking for anything that resembled what it had once been.
Anything soft or beautiful in the home was gone. All that survived were a few blackened pieces of wood that may have once been a dresser or nightstand. The appliances in the kitchen had been melted into disfigured lumps of molten goo. In what had once been the downstairs bedroom, he could make out the bed springs amidst the ashes.
It was gone. All gone. Draco felt his heart sink lower and lower in his chest. There was simply no way… no possible way that Granger could be here, alive.
He felt like crying, but his eyes were far too clogged by dust to do anything but sting.
And then, out of the very corner of his vision, something odd. Obscured by the heavy smoke in the air, a spot of polished brown beneath a thin layer of ash.
Draco squinted, sure his imagination was playing a trick on him.
Among all the destruction, sat a singular item still intact. A wardrobe, shockingly untouched by the fire.
Curious.
How could this wardrobe have survived unscathed when everything else had been razed to the ground? Draco couldn't see how. He blinked, wracking his brain for any sort of explanation. The fiendfyre had destroyed everything, and yet this wardrobe remained unblemished.
It was impossible. The only explanation that Draco thought made sense was if some sort of protective enchantment had been cast over it. But then again, the caster would have to be beyond powerful to make this wardrobe withstand Fiendfyre.
There were only a handful of witches and wizards he could think of that were that powerful.
And one of them was…
Draco swallowed, his eyes growing wide.
Not daring to hope for the best, Draco stepped slowly over the remains of a desk and approached the pristine wooden wardrobe. As he pressed his hand against the doors, he could feel magic pulsing against the surface. Strong magic.
He wrenched open the doors and there she was.
Granger looked tiny, her knees drawn up to her chest, face buried in her arms, hand gripping her wand so tightly that her knuckles were white.
But she was alive.
Draco took a deep breath, the cool night air sweeping into his lungs and waking up his shattered heart.
She was alive.
Granger lifted her head, the whites of her eyes stark against her soot-covered face. A rattling gasp escaped her, and on shaky legs, she clambered out of the wardrobe to throw her arms around his neck. She collapsed against him and buried her face in his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to keep her upright. Relief flooded his heart as she clung to him.
Her breath shuddered. "I knew you'd find me."
Heart splintering, Draco pulled her closer, burying his face in her curls and feeling her warmth against him. She was trembling terribly, her legs barely supporting her. Tightening his arms around her waist, he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him, burying her face against his neck. He could feel tears hitting his skin.
"It's okay," he murmured into her hair. "I've got you."
Turning away from the wardrobe, he spotted Potter digging through rubble a few metres away. "Potter," Draco called, making his way toward the Auror.
Relief washed over Potter's face. His jaw dropped and eyes went wide as he spotted Granger in Draco's arms. In an instant, the poised, stoic Auror was gone, replaced by a concerned friend. Eyes shining, he clambered over the burnt remains of the Westenberg house. "Hermione! Thank Merlin. What happened?"
When Potter reached them, he stretched out his arms, his eyebrows raised in expectation. "Here, I'll take her."
Draco fought his instincts to tell Potter that he had her—that she was safe with him, but before he had a chance to open his mouth, Granger tightened her arms around him like a vice.
Draco watched as Potter's eyes widened for the briefest of moments and then narrowed. The Auror was likely surprised and confused at Granger's strong attachment. Hell, Draco was just as surprised. Just as confused.
In his arms, Granger turned her head toward Potter and the two shared a brief look. He nodded.
His throat bobbing under a tightened jaw, Potter gestured toward the garden. "Let's sit down for a moment."
Draco made his way out of the charred wreckage of the house and set Granger down on one of the garden benches. He kneeled in front of her, allowing her to cling to his hand like it was the only thing tethering her to this world.
"Hermione." Potter kneeled beside Draco and reached out to place a hand on Granger's knee. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"They set the house on fire." Granger coughed between sentences. "I tried to get as many of my notes and phials together as I could, but then the room was ablaze. I knew I wouldn't be able to save the whole house, or even the room, so I climbed into the wardrobe and focused on containing the fire as much as I could."
"That was Fiendfyre, Hermione." Potter's green eyes had grown wide again, and Draco suspected he was caught somewhere between wonder and horror. "How were you able to contain it?"
"I researched it last year after the Room of Requirement," she explained, squeezing Draco's hand a bit tighter. "I didn't want to be caught off guard again."
She coughed loudly, a horrible, dry, hacking sound. Her brow furrowed and she leaned forward as she wheezed and choked.
Draco reached out and brushed her hair away from her face. Tears had left glistening tracks down her soot-covered cheeks. Her coughs subsided and she leaned into his chest, wrapping her arms around him again.
"I'm going to take her to headquarters to get her checked out," said Draco, stroking her head as softly as he could.
"I'm fine," Granger mumbled, shaking her head. But she was still trembling, and there was something desperate in the way her fingers were clutching at his back.
"You're in shock, Granger," Draco insisted, careful to keep his tone calm. "We'll let you give your full report later."
He threaded one arm under her knees and picked her up again.
"I know Kingsley has brought a Healer to headquarters," said Potter. "You two go on. I'll tell the others where you've gone."
With a stiff nod, Draco walked through the gate before turning on the spot and apparating to the edge of Hyde Park. He hurried across the road and disappeared inside the wards of headquarters, all the while feeling Granger's small frame still clinging to him.
Once inside, they were met with all of the chaos of an organization that had just suffered a major attack. The living room was filled with Westenberg survivors and the people tending to them. Dawlish was collecting everyone's account of what had happened at the safe house while a Healer from St. Mungo's bustled around to be sure everyone was well tended to. Kingsley was talking in low tones with McGonagall and Arthur Weasley, no doubt theorizing as to how this had happened.
"Hermione!" Ginny jumped up from the couch upon seeing them and bounded over. Her face was no longer soot-covered, though her blue eyes were still glistening. "Are you alright?"
Granger coughed in response.
"She'll be alright." Draco took a few steps forward to set Granger down in a soft armchair. "She just needs a Healer."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the Healer hurried over to them, coming between Draco and Granger. Draco pulled away with the intention of telling Ginny what had happened, but Granger's hand darted out and curled around his wrist. Her eyes were pleading as he turned back toward her, as though she was begging him to stay with her.
"The Healer needs to check you out, Granger," he said gently, letting her hold his hand for a moment. "I'll be right here, alright? I'm not going anywhere."
A slight twinge of betrayal shimmering in her eyes, she released him and turned her attention to the Healer.
"Please breathe this in, Miss. To cleanse your lungs." The Healer shook up a phial and then uncorked it beneath Granger's nose. A white vapor escaped the glass and she inhaled deeply, pulling it into her lungs. She coughed twice but then her breathing leveled out.
Draco retreated into the foyer and leaned against the wall between the sitting room and the first floor lavatory, just out of sight of the chaotic scene. Shaking horribly, he took a deep breath, feeling it shudder into his lungs. His throat felt tight, and there was a prickling behind his eyes. He shut them, leaning his head back against the wall in an effort to calm himself.
"Are you alright?"
He opened his eyes. Ginny stood before him.
Draco nodded, wishing he could quell his trembling hands. Reaching up, he carded his fingers through his hair, gripping tightly in an effort to calm himself.
"She's going to be just fine." Ginny reached out and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"I thought she was—" His throat constricted, blocking his words.
"I know. I did too." Her blue eyes were swimming with tears as she moved to stand next to him. "You really care about her, don't you?"
Draco dropped his arms, head snapping sharply to look at the ginger girl. "I—" He gaped at her, unable or unwilling to answer her question.
"It's alright," Ginny chirped, her lips turning up slightly. "You don't have to tell me. But you should tell her."
Both Ginny and Luna… It seemed that Draco's affection for Granger had been noticed by everyone… everyone except perhaps Granger, herself.
Ginny pushed away from the wall and made her way toward the kitchen. "Come on. Let's get a drink."
Draco hesitated, glancing back toward the sitting room.
Ginny smiled and waved. "She'll be okay. The Healers will need to check her out thoroughly. You have time for a quick drink."
Not wanting to leave Granger, but knowing that a drink would calm his nerves, Draco followed Ginny into the kitchen and sat down at the table. There were already several people there, most partaking from a bottle of firewhisky.
Draco poured himself a drink, letting the burning liquid numb him ever so slightly. Around him, Ginny fell into conversation with Lee and George, though the topics were far more somber than they had been earlier that day.
Potter entered after several minutes. He was covered in soot, his hands nearly black. He straightened his glasses and then cast a quick Scourgify on himself before sitting down across from Draco.
"Do we know how this happened yet?" Draco leaned forward, his words cutting across others' conversations.
Potter shook his head. "I've been taking statements from all the witnesses, but I just don't know how they managed to find the house. Angelina was the highest of our rank there. She said she was alerted that the first level of wards had been breached. She barely had time to start rounding everyone up before they breached the second level and the house was ablaze. The Death Eaters didn't even try to enter the house. They just set it on fire and then left. I guess they figured their job was done."
"Maybe their job was just to destroy the house, not necessarily to kill anyone," Ginny suggested, placing her hand gently in Potter's.
"It's no wonder Granger didn't get out in time. Fiendfyre spreads so rapidly." Draco took a big gulp of his firewhisky.
"Hermione was the first one out, actually," Ginny piped up.
Both Draco and Potter raised their eyebrows. "What do you mean she was out?" Draco implored.
Ginny glanced between the two of them, her eyes wide. "She and I got out first, but then she ran back in. She shouted something about getting her notes."
Before his brain had the chance to keep up with the rest of his body, Draco pushed himself roughly to his feet. All the exhaustion and worry that had been weighing him down turned to burning rage in a flash. Anger coursed through his veins. His teeth gnashed and he clenched his fists.
"Where are you going?" Potter's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"I need to know why a perfectly sane person would run back into a burning building that everyone else had evacuated," Draco spat.
"Malfoy, wait—" Potter began, but Draco was already striding out of the kitchen.
The sitting room was much quieter when Draco stormed in, eyes looking for any sign of Granger's bushy head.
She was sitting in the same chair he'd left her in. Someone had helped clean her up and had brought her some clean clothes. She seemed to be perfectly healthy. There was a steaming cup of tea between her palms, and she was sipping from it as if she hadn't nearly died an hour ago.
Gritting his teeth, Draco stepped towards her. Granger's eyes lit up as he approached, but then fell at the sight of his scowl. A momentary silence stretched between them before Draco's jaw unclenched enough to speak.
"Are you alright?" He spoke through his teeth.
"I—what?"
"Are. You. Alright? Have the Healers checked you out? Are you okay?"
Granger's eyes darted around the room as if trying to identify the source of his ire. "Er—yes."
Draco waved down the closest Healer. "Excuse me. Is she alright?"
The Healer glanced at Granger. "She inhaled quite a bit of smoke, but beyond that—"
"Has she been treated?" Draco pressed. "Can she go?"
"She should stay on the premises for the time being," the Healer advised. "But yes, physically she should be fine."
"Fantastic," Draco droned. "Come on." He motioned for Granger to follow him with a jerk of his head.
Blinking and frowning slightly, Granger set her tea on the coffee table and followed Draco out of the room and up the stairs.
Draco opened the door to his room. He needed to yell at her, or at least have a serious discussion on valuing one's own life over some bloody files, and he needed a quiet place to do it.
He shut the door, cast a silencing charm, and rounded on her. "Would you care to explain yourself?"
Granger opened her arms wide, her frown deepening. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Ginny said you were out. She said you were out and you went back in for your fucking files," Draco spat, his finger jabbing in her direction.
Granger shook her head. "Not just files. The antidote. I'd been brewing all week. I couldn't just let it all go to waste! What if there's another attack?"
"You're no good to us dead, Granger. We can always brew more antidote."
"Every phial counts, and you know it." Granger's eyebrows furrowed, accusation in her voice.
"I know that, but it's not worth your life! We could have made up the difference in a few days' work. What you did was reckless and, frankly, stupid."
Granger groaned. "I'm fine! I knew I could contain the flames."
"And what if the flames had engulfed the wardrobe before you could contain it? You would be dead."
"I would have found another way." Her tone remained firm, but her eyes shone with uncertainty.
"There was nothing left, Granger. You would have died."
Granger was quiet for a moment. She dropped her chin and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're right. I know you're right. But Draco, I brewed thirty potions this week! I knew they were inside and I just had to try. I'm sorry."
"Your life is far more valuable than some stupid potions, Granger."
"Why are you so angry?" Granger argued, her eyes lifting to meet his with new ferocity. "It isn't your duty to protect me anymore."
"I don't care about my duty. I only care about you!" Draco shouted. "Honestly, Granger, I—mmph—"
His tirade was cut short, for Granger had launched herself across the room and thrown her arms around his neck. Whatever he'd been about to say instantly flew from his mind as her lips landed squarely against his in a fierce kiss.
A/N: A much less evil cliffhanger, eh? Leave me a review if you're so inclined!
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Next chapter posts: July 6th
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