Serves Him Right part V
Snape scowled in irritation at a tapping on his window. An owl waited, equally ruffled, to be let in from the rain. Snape put his quill down across Neville's homework and weaved around chairs and desks to get to the rain-spattered window. Once he opened it, the owl flapped inside and perched on the back of a chair, shaking the water from its wings.
It observed Snape arrogantly and impatiently stuck out its foot for him to take the letter attached.
When it had flown back into the wind-whipped rain, Snape closed the window and took the letter to his lamp-lit desk to read.
Severus,
I am pleased to inform you that Draco is ready to come back to Hogwarts. He has recovered from his illness, and will need no further treatment for it. He is to see you about any make-up work he needs to do immediately. We will be arriving at Hogwarts within the hour. Dumbledore has been notified as well. I would appreciate it if you both would meet us in the lobby.
Sincerely,
Lucius Malfoy
Snape frowned. Something wasn't at all right about this. Lucius didn't want Karyli teaching Draco but if he was letting Draco come back to Hogwarts this soon, it seemed to imply that Lucius was willing to let the matter rest. Like hell he was. A brisk knocking at his door jolted Snape. "Come in," he almost snapped.
Dumbledore stepped into Snape's office. His twinkling eyes rested for a moment on the letter on Snape's desk. "Shall we wait for them, then?" he asked.
"Yes," Snape replied, gathering up his papers, quill, and bottles of ink and piling them into desk drawers. "Have you seen Karyli?"
"Oh yes, she's doing fine. Pomfrey's mended her arm beautifully. I did warn her," Dumbledore sighed, "about the rain and the wind."
"She was hell-bent on getting to young Malfoy. I don't think a tornado could have kept her away," Snape replied, with a hint of fondness.
Dumbledore chuckled as they walked along the hall towards the lobby. "Nor I, Severus."
Draco did not look at his father during the whole trip. He kept his gaze averted to the fields, trees, rocks, and buildings that blurred past his view out the coach window. Although he refused to look at Lucius, he knew his father was looking at him. Draco could feel Lucius' eyes grazing across his skin like wind-driven grains of glass.
Lucius had also spoken to Draco during the whole of the trip. He had talked, lectured, and ranted. About what, Draco didn't care; he hadn't listened nor made any attempt to pretend that he was listening. Lucius' voice had passed Draco's ears by as easily as the sound of the coach wheels on the gravel road.
The coach stopped in front of the lake before Hogwarts. Wordlessly, Draco got his broom out from the back of the coach and his father did the same. Before he could kick off into the air, Lucius laid a cold restraining hand on Draco's shoulder. "What do you think you can accomplish by playing this stupid little game, Draco? Do you think you can continue to hate me when you come home for the summer? Do you think you can glare at me while eating the meals, wearing the clothes, and sleeping in the bed that I provide for you? Your anger will not last. I have done nothing unforgivable. And you depend on me too much to turn your back on me."
Lucius' face held a triumphant sneer that Draco remembered using so many times before with Potter. God, had he really looked that awful? That cruel? Draco shuddered.
As they flew over the lake, Draco could see two small figures waiting on the steps of Hogwarts. He strained his eyes searching for Karyli even though he had seen her crushed and fed to the flames. The vision came back to him then, so strong he swayed to the left and struggled to keep flying in a straight line as the tears came up to blind him. "Stop it," he hissed to himself, blinking them back furiously.
He landed first and heard his father land beside him. "Good evening, Severus, Dumbledore."
"Same to you, Lucius," Dumbledore said, and Snape gave Lucius a curt nod. "How was your weekend?"
"The rain kept us within the Manor. It wasn't too unpleasant, mind you. Although we did have a small moth problem," Lucius dismissed casually.
Draco's face tightened and he struggled not to show a shred of emotion. His father was baiting him. He could see the cruel smirk without looking. Please, no more, he prayed. No more . . . let him stop there.
Draco dared to lift his eyes and realization hit him. Lucius wasn't trying to bait Draco. Dumbledore's face was gazing back at his father, less cheerily than before. Snape's face was hard, as if set in stone. He worked a relaxed smile onto his features at the last possible second and nodded as if nothing was wrong. Draco envied his ability to recover so easy. Even more, he envied Dumbledore's cheery aloofness from what he knew had come as a shock to both teachers.
Lucius' voice changed the subject to Draco's grades. With a hollow twinge of satisfaction, Draco detected the disappointment in his father's voice at how Snape and Dumbledore had taken the hint. Obviously, Lucius had thought Snape and Dumbledore had something to do with Karyli's visiting Draco.
With a sudden anger that scared him, Draco wished for Snape to let his control slip; to get out his wand and turn Lucius into a fat cockroach and stomp on it or worse. But Snape stood there and assured Lucius that Draco was indeed working hard in Potions and raising his marks impressively.
The rest of the conversation became a blur as he saw his father's hand crush the life out of Karyli's fragile body yet again. Draco didn't move or speak, for fear he would be sick. Lucius bid him goodbye, and Draco had never felt more relieved and infuriated at the same time. He watched in disbelief as his father mounted his broom and took off over the lake. He watched in disbelief as neither Snape nor Dumbledore made any move towards their wands as his father rode away. And helplessly, the rational part of him resurfaced above his anger and informed him that it would prove nothing to hex Lucius at this point. What proof did Dumbledore or Snape have from Lucius' testament that he'd killed anything other than an ordinary moth? Disappointment hit Draco like a knife and he didn't realize he was about to fall until he felt Snape's hands on his shoulders, steadying him.
"Draco?" Snape asked, gently. "Come with us. I believe you need to lie down for a bit."
Trembling, Draco let Snape lead him through the hallway. He felt so sick he couldn't care less if he was being escorted to detention rather than a warm bed.
Snape looked like he was struggling with something. Draco saw him turn his head toward Dumbledore and mutter something. Dumbledore answered back. "Tell him, Severus," he murmured sternly. "Heaven knows what Lucius did to make him believe . . ."
Dumbledore trailed off and both teachers looked at Draco. "Draco," Snape said, softly, "Karyli's allright."
It took a moment for the words to sink in. She was allright. She was alive. "But I saw her. He crushed her --" His father's hand reached across his vision to snap the moth between his fingers as easily as one would break a stick. Draco saw the ground coming up to meet him and heard Snape curse and felt arms catch him from falling any further than his knees. Snape was kneeling beside him, his arms wrapped around Draco offering support. Draco's eyes were fixed on the floor and like some unwilling prisoner, he was forced to watch his father crushing the moth again and again and again. He squeezed his eyes shut to blot out the vision and was comforted by the inky blackness behind the lids.
Dumbledore's robes rustled as he too knelt next to Draco. "Whatever your father did was a lie. An illusion. Karyli was not hurt by Lucius in anyway. She was, however, decked by a rather large raindrop on her flight back to the tree. Pomfrey mended her arm easily enough. In a day or so, it will be as good as new."
"Albus," hissed Snape, "We shouldn't have told him like this. He's been through enough."
"Severus--"
"Don't coddle me with saying he's 'going to be allright', Albus! You can't feel how he's shaking!" Snape roared. His voice was thick with anger, among other emotions. Draco swallowed and forced himself to take slower, deeper breaths. "Good," Snape encouraged softly in his ear, holding the boy closer. "Good, Draco, keep doing that."
Snape shivered then; Draco felt it against his own skin. He heard Snape sigh. "I understand, Dumbledore, why you wanted to tell him now. I myself do not see why he should spend one more minute living with the lie his father showed him."
Snape turned back to Draco. "Do . . . do you feel as if you can see her, Draco?" Heart too full to speak, Draco could only nod. "Dumbledore, could you go ahead of us and tell her . . . what happened?" Draco looked up, alarmed at the sudden weakness in Snape's voice.
"Of course, Severus." Dumbledore's footsteps faded down the hall.
"Tell me, Draco. I know you can't bear to remember it . . . but if you tell me now, I'll never let anyone ask you to talk about it again. What did he do to you? To her?" Snape demanded, hoarsely.
Weakly, Draco leaned his head on Snape's shoulder and told him everything.
Karyli stood shakily as the door to the Hospital Wing opened to allow Snape and Draco inside. They faced each other for a few frozen seconds. "Oh Draco," Karyli finally breathed, the first of many tears sliding down her face.
She felt the self-hatred fill her as she comforted her brother's sobbing body in her arms, stroking his hair with her fingertips. If only she hadn't been so damn reckless about getting him out of the Manor. She never should have gone . . . she should have realized the possibilities she'd opened up for Lucius by taking such a delicate, vulnerable form. All she'd wanted to do was visit Draco; to comfort him and keep his mind off Lucius' anger. And in the end, she'd helped Lucius inflict a deeper pain than any beating from his hands or belt could. How could she have been so stupid?!
She felt Snape's hand on her shoulder then, and knew he was taking just as much personal responsibility for what had happened as she was. He'd helped her, after all.
It was then that Karyli realized that they could blame anyone - themselves, each other, Lucius, maybe even Voldemort - and it wasn't going to heal anyone. Whoever's fault it was, it simply didn't matter.
Draco had fallen asleep in Karyli's arms. She carefully laid him down on the bed, on his chest and Madame Pomfrey helped her remove the boy's robes and get him into his pajamas. Karyli's eyes widened as they traveled over Draco's smooth back and she touched his skin to make sure of it . . . yes, Draco's welts were healed. "That bastard," she hissed.
Snape looked at her inquiringly. "Lucius beat him," She explained bitterly. "When I was at the Manor, I accidentally brushed my hand against his welts - I could feel them underneath his robes."
Snape immediately recalled how Lucius had insisted in his letter that Draco was over his sickness and didn't need to go to the Hospital Wing. Of course not. Lucius didn't want anyone detecting any traces of a healing spell. Too many uncomfortable questions would be raised.
Karyli looked beaten herself. Snape put a comforting arm around her and led her to the teacher's common room at Hogwarts.
"Minerva, could you get some coffee on the boil?" he asked McGonagall, who took one look at Karyli and started out of her seat.
"What's the matter? Karyli? What happened?" she fussed.
"Would you please, Minerva?" Snape asked, through clenched teeth. McGonagall gave him a stern, displeased look and walked to the kitchen.
"Severus," Karyli admonished, "That was a bit rude, don't you think?" Snape started. She'd never called him by his first name before.
"Sorry," he replied, awkwardly, sitting across from her at the table.
"He knew exactly what he was doing," Karyli began, "Lucius closed the window so I couldn't get in. He wanted Draco to know the power he held over him . . . over me . . . oh God . . . what he must have went through . . . seeing . . . thinking I was reduced to a crushed lifeless thing in the palm of his father's hand . . . and then the fire . . ."
"Stop it," Snape hissed, grabbing her wrists firmly to stop her hands from shaking. He didn't want her thinking about it, and he didn't want to think about it either. He got up and held her close, letting her rest against him until her body lost its tension and she relaxed. He gave her a squeeze and let her go just before McGonagall entered the kitchen with two steaming mugs of coffee. "Thank you," he told her politely, taking the coffee and placing one before Karyli.
"I'm sorry, Severus."
"There's nothing to be sorry for. Except that I wish I'd punched his lights out when I had the chance."
Karyli almost choked on her coffee. "You and me both, Professor," she said wryly.
Snape saw a smile light up her features and for the first time that night, he realized that for the moment at least, all was right in the world. She was safe; Draco was safe. Nothing would change that. Or so he swore.
With Draco's return, things began to go back to normal. Karyli's class was popular with all four houses; something a teacher had rarely managed in the history of Hogwarts.
Assured that they had Draco back on their side, the Slytherins were no more hostile toward Harry, Ron and Hermione than they'd been for the past four years. Remembering what Draco had written in the letter last weekend, Harry, Ron and Hermione tolerated it when Draco's cronies jeered at them in the hallway. Draco would sneer, half-heartedly. Sometimes, he didn't even look at them. Not as if he were ashamed . . . just disinterested.
He hardly spoke a word to Harry or Ron or Hermione all week. If they were getting tired of his aloofness, it was nothing compared to how tired the other Slytherins were getting of it. Every time a Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff would make a clever remark, all eyes would turn to Draco for the comeback. He'd amuse them sometimes and fling back a barb or two, but he hardly put any of his usual spirit into it. It wasn't that he was still getting over the shock of what his father had done . . . in truth, Draco didn't know where he belonged. He needed a friend now, someone to talk to. But the more his Slytherin friends taunted Harry and pressured Draco into doing the same, the more afraid Draco became of approaching Harry as a friend.
He felt useless. He couldn't taunt Harry because he wanted to stay on good terms with him, and yet he was too afraid to go against the rest of his classmates. Cowardly? Perhaps. But it was easy to be cowardly when you lived with people who would trash and steal whatever belongings you had or bombard you with hexes if you got on their bad side. Gryffindors wouldn't do that to Potter, Weasely, or Granger - not even Longbottom. Right there was an example; if Longbottom had been put in Slytherin, he would've been crucified.
Draco knew he'd have to make a choice. And it was a decision he awaited with dread. Would he stay on the safe side and have his fellow house-members beside him and yet no-one to talk to, or would he have three constant friends and face a roomful of jeering Slytherins ready to throw hexes or worse at him every night? Part of Draco felt disgusted with himself; all his life, he'd striven to be popular as opposed to hated. He'd cast down people just as insecure as he was, all to keep his own imperfections from showing, ever afraid of rejection. And now all he wanted was acceptance from the very three people he'd cast down the most. So many times he wondered how he could even begin to make such a decision. Until one day, it was all taken out of his hands.
"Mudblood Graaaaaangerrrrr!" called Ashley Lorac, a fifth-year. "Hey Mudblood!" yelled Flint at the top of his lungs. "You better run to little Harry and Ron so they can protect you!"
Oh, no, Draco thought as members of his group started walking faster towards the girl across the Quidditch fields. Some boys broke out into a run. They've caught her alone . . .
Draco began running too. He knew the moment that Hermione began running from the advancing Slytherins that she wouldn't outrun them, not at least with all she was carrying. Drop your books, for crying out loud, Granger! They'll catch you! Draco hissed at her mentally. He didn't know what good he was doing, running alongside the Slytherins bent on chasing her down like this, but if he stopped, he'd lose them. Ahead of him, he saw the boys gaining on her fast. Draco cursed. They were far from any teachers now . . . whatever happened to Hermione would probably not go unpunished, but that was beside the point. Draco didn't want it to happen at all. The thought that he had, at one point, only sickened him further.
He was thirty feet away when the first boy grabbed Hermione's hair and flung her down on the grass, sending her books flying from her arms. Two more boys and one girl screamed taunts at her breathlessly and kicked and slapped at her. More were gathering around, thickening the circle and Draco nearly despaired. It was now or never. He couldn't get a teacher; not soon enough to help Hermione and she needed help now. It was all up to him.
Draco gritted his teeth and kept running at breakneck speed toward the mob around Hermione. The grass was slippery from the rain and he'd have trouble stopping. But then, he had no intention whatsoever of stopping on his own.
Flint was raising his meaty fist over Hermione's cringing body when a shout and several cries of pain distracted him. The Slytherins either leapt or were shoved aside as Draco plowed through them and flung himself on hands and knees over Hermione. A blow shook his side and he felt a fist connect with his left shoulder-blade before several girls screamed at Hermione's attackers to stop. Draco stood up and came face to face with Marcus Flint.
"Draco, what are you doing?" Flint snarled. "This is the most fun we've had all week."
Hermione moaned feebly and when she lifted her head, Draco smelled blood. "You bastard," he spat, glaring at Flint - glaring at all of them. Before anyone knew what was happening, Draco had whipped out his wand and raised it in the air. Red sparks shot out of it, and from far off came a teacher's voice yelling in alarm.
Shock, disbelief, and then panic set in among the Slytherins. "Scram!" yelled Flint and Slytherins shot in all directions. Draco knelt next to Hermione and helped her rest on her back. "Granger?" he asked softly.
"Malfoy, you stupid jerk, was this your idea?" Hermione muttered thickly.
"No. Why would I help you?"
"That's right . . . you grew a heart. I'd almost forgotten," Hermione said, smiling although one lip was bleeding.
"Are you allright?"
"Where are my books?"
"Forget the bloody books, how are you feeling?"
"Get me a book - a heavy one - let me slam it down on one of those stupid Slytherin's heads, and then I'll tell you how I feel," Hermione gasped, as Draco helped her sit up.
"What happened here?!" demanded Professor McGonagall. She took one look at Hermione and almost swooned. "Granger!" she cried. Furious, she grabbed Malfoy's ear between finger and thumb and dragged him to his feet.
"OW!!! Ow ow ow!" Draco yelped.
"What happened, Malfoy?!"
"They attacked her and I drove 'em off with the sparks! Let go, please!"
"WHO ATTACKED HER?!"
"Slytherins!" Draco howled in pain.
"WHICH ONES?! I WANT NAMES, MALFOY!"
"I'm not naming anyone. Ask Hermione, she'll tell you," Draco moaned. His ear felt as if it were about to come off in McGonagall's hand. Her fingernails were digging into the flesh - any deeper and he'd be able to wear an earring.
"MALFOY! NAMES! NOW! NO EXCUSES!"
"Please, Professor, I didn't see the ones who hurt her the most --"
"I SAID NO EXCUSES!!!"
Malfoy closed his eyes tightly in frustration. It wasn't fair, he thought. He'd done the right thing, and now he was getting yelled at and on top of that, his ear was going to be sore for at least a week.
He had no choice. He began to give names, knowing full well that there were probably some Slytherins hiding in the bushes overhearing him and that there would be hell to pay when he got back to his dorm room in the Slytherin quarters.
When he'd given at least eight names, McGonagall had let go of his ear, allowing him to nurse it tenderly with his fingertips. He blinked back tears and numbly bent down to help Hermione gather her books.
He felt hot tears escape past his eyelids to land on the grass. She hadn't said a word to help him, he realized angrily. She'd sat there in silence while McGonagall had grilled him, and now she . . . Draco cursed himself softly when he turned to look at her. McGonagall was talking to her soothingly while Hermione sobbed in the older woman's arms. Draco wiped his own tears away, angry at himself. Why should he be the one crying? She was the one who'd gotten beat up and probably scared out of her wits.
Draco finished gathering up Hermione's books and set them beside her on the grass, putting them into a neat pile, because it would have mattered to her. Hermione was still weeping and Draco wanted to say something comforting, but his throat was tight and he didn't know what to say.
"Let's go to Madame Pomfrey," Professor McGonagall murmured, getting up to help Hermione. Draco carried her books silently and walked by her side. He couldn't begin to imagine what the other Slytherins had in store for him, but when he glanced at Hermione and she flashed him a huge smile, he didn't care if Crabbe and Goyle used him for a trampoline. McGonagall looked at him with less anger than she had before and she asked if he'd like to stay with Hermione while Madame Pomfrey patched her up. Draco readily agreed. He had no wish to go to bed anytime soon. Whatever was left of it, anyway.
Harry and Ron caught a glimpse of Hermione coming down the hall with McGonagall and Draco and the response was immediate.
"What did you do to her, Malfoy?" Ron yelled, lunging for him. Harry held him back by his jacket; although he looked furious himself, he wasn't about to attack Draco in front of a teacher.
"Weasely! Contain yourself!" McGonagall ordered sharply. Ron stopped yelling and both Harry and Ron followed Hermione to the Hospital Wing. Along the way, Hermione explained what happened.
Draco had been expecting their initial reactions, and wasn't too surprised by their misplaced anger at him, but it still gave him a great deal of satisfaction when Ron gruffly apologized and Harry clapped him on the shoulder.
"You saved her, Malfoy? Great, we'll never hear the end of it now," Harry teased. Draco allowed himself to grin.
Snape sighed as he poured the restorative into a goblet and began to dispose of the excess potion. Karyli, for her part, shook her head fondly.
"Never thought I'd see the day Draco became a school hero."
"He'll be a hero with three houses, not four. Slytherins are not known for their forgiveness. Still," Snape said, going into the back room to pour the contents of the cauldron down the drainage, "It'll take some of the swagger out of Potter to know his enemy is as popular as he is."
Karyli groaned. "Again with Potter? Come on Severus, can't you admit you like him a little?"
There was a loud clang and the sound of several objects hitting the floor before a very disgruntled, "NO!" came from the back room.
Biting her lip, Karyli took the filled goblet and left the Potions classroom before she lost control of her mirth completely.
"Here, drink this," Karyli told Hermione, handing her the restorative in the goblet. "It'll help you relax. Pomfrey thinks it best you sleep here for tonight."
"Thank you, Miss Karyli," Hermione said, and downed the potion.
"As for you boys, I think you'd all better head back to your dorms. It's late."
Harry, Ron and Draco exchanged glances. Karyli knew those glances all too well. "Okay, what's up?" she asked.
"Draco's got nowhere to sleep," said Harry. "Nowhere safe, if you think about it."
Karyli cocked her head, thinking. Her eyes sparkled mischievously and she smiled. "Draco, I think I have a solution that will work for you . . ."
Ten minutes later, Karyli, Harry and Ron bid Hermione goodnight and walked out of the Hospital Wing. She waved as they left, making sure to leave the door open a crack behind them. A silver-blonde cat leapt up on the bed and peered into her face anxiously. "Mrreow?"
"For the last time, I'm fine, Draco. Go to bed."
The cat twitched an ear and leapt off the bed to land gracefully on the floor. Lazily it squeezed out of the open door and followed Harry and Ron down the hall to Gryffindor. "Hey, Harry, we'd better make sure Mrs. Norris is spayed." Hermione heard Ron joking. There was a low growl and Ron yelped. "Ouch, Draco! Allright, I'm sorry, now would you kindly get your claws out of my ankle?!"
The sound of Harry's laughter was the last sound Hermione remembered before falling into a comforting, dreamless sleep.
The End
A/N: To be continued in further adventures going by a different title! ^_^ But first, I've got this weird fic to publish in a couple of days. It's cool, but it'll give you the willies. All characters beside Karyli and Ashley Lorac belong to J.K. Rowling.