harryPotterMG3

Mercury and Gold-Part Three

By Dreamer

Authors Note: Okay, this is the normal version of part three. If it gets better or more reviews than the slash version then I'll keep my Mercury and Gold (Dracos eye color and Hermiones eye color) and abandon my Mercury and Emerald (Dracos eye color and Harrys eye color). Dedicated to NookNan for her encouragement and support. Hope you like it! Please R/R if you want this to continue else I'll keep on with Draco/Harry slash.

Mercury and Gold-Part Three


By Dreamer

YOU DID WHAT? Harrys' yell bounced off the walls and came back magnified a thousand times. I looked around the room in alarm, checking to make sure that the Potions dungeon was still clear. I motioned for silence. He had pushed me against the walls and was holding me there, his face just a few inches away from mine. I was beginning to wish that I hadn't told Harry what had happened to Hermione. He looked like he was ready to kill me! I squirmed slightly so that I'd be more comfortable and then flashed him my best insolent yet superior grin. I regretted it almost immediately as he tightened his grip and tensed his muscles like he was going to shake me or something.

He said very slowly and steadily as if trying to restrain himself from screaming at me.
After she told you that she loved, how could you turn her over to your father that way! Who knows what they'll do to her? Rape, torture, they might even kill her! By now his green eyes were on fire. I smiled shakily and tried to calm him down.
Relax Potter. I drawled languidly. My mind was racing, trying to think of what to say next. I decided on the truth.
My father wouldn't rape her. Neither would any of the other Death Eaters because they wouldn't want to pollute themselves by touching a Mudblood.

DON'T CALL HER THAT! He practically screeched. He let go of me and began pacing around the Potions dungeon. I sank to the floor and tugged at the neck of my robes, trying to pull them down a bit as they had almost suffocated me when Harry had pinned me to the wall. I watched him pace for a bit and then I lowered my eyes and tried to think of a plan to save Hermione.


I was furious. The thought of that conniving, cheating scoundrel treating Hermione like a...a.... slave made my blood boil! How could he take advantage of her like that? On the other hand, I reasoned he really did seem sorry else why would he have told me unless this is a really complicated trap. I decided to check and make sure.

I walked over to where Draco was sitting, his creamy-white hair falling over his face because he was looking down. With shame? Or was he just deep in thought? I couldn't tell. But if he could help the Dark Lord capture Hermione then how could he be capable of feeling ashamed? I tapped him on the shoulder, a bit roughly perhaps but not enough for him to react the way he did. He jumped up and swung me against the wall, his silver eyes blazing with fury.


Look Potter, if you want to yell some more forget it! I hissed angrily into his ear. Now he was the one trapped.
I know that what I did was wrong and I'm trying to fix it! But I don't have time to waste listening to you tell me stuff that I already know! Now either accept that and come and help me save Hermione or I'll put a memory charm on you and go off and try to save her alone! It isn't even as if you are so squeaky clean either! Think about it! You have a god-father that's a convict and that sold your parents to Lord Voldemort, and a Weasel friend who's so poor that they don't have any rats in their house because they ate them all. You hang out with a werewolf who was involved in a threesome with your father and Sirius Black, and as for your mother- I didn't get further because Harry jumped me and pushed me to the floor.

All his magic forgotten, he resorted to trying to punch/kick me. Didn't work though because as a Malfoy I am expected to be fully trained in all forms of fighting. And of course, I am. Whenever he tried to punch me, I'd grab his wrist and twist backwards. Then he would try to kick me so that I'd drop his wrist. That's when I'd grab his leg, attach his hand to it and then throw him backwards. Finally he tired of this boring routine and standing up at about the same time I did, launched himself at me. I side-stepped easily and catching him by the collar of his robes, rapidly punched him three times in succession. Hammer blows, to his throat, gut and mouth. For a second he sagged against me and then regaining his balance, backed away, assuming a fighting stance as he did so.

We stood there, string at each other from opposite sides of the room. His green eyes were sparkling and he was panting slightly. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Abruptly I felt ashamed. He had only been worried and I had reacted by trying to hurt him. Typical me. Hermione cares about me and I betray her to Lord Voldemort. Harry gets worried about her and I provoke him into fighting me. Maybe the reason that I can't deal with affection is because I got so very little of it when I was a kid. My parents hate me. All they want is that I grow up and become a sadistic bastard like my father. But I don't want to. I'll have to break this cycle of alienating everybody that tries to be friendly. And I guess that I might as well start now. I slowly lowered my fists and grinned placatingly at Harry. He gave me an odd look and then lowered his.

Look, I'm sorry that I made those comments about your family. I guess that I'm just a bit on edge right now. I muttered reluctantly.

You know, I think that that's the first time I've ever heard you apologize about anything. Harry noted thoughtfully.

Yeah well, don't expect me to make a habit out of it or anything. So, are we going to my mansion or not? I gruffly responded.

O.K. but I still think that we should tell Ron. After all, he thinks Hermione is his girl-friend. Harry pointed out.

Is he crazy? My Hermione together with that Muggle- loving beggar! I answered sharply. Harry was glaring daggers. I had forgotten that Ron was his best friend. I grimaced apologetically and he smiled forgivingly.

Lets go get our brooms although you might have a bit of trouble keeping up with me. A Firebolt is way better than a Nimbus 2001. He bragged. I raised an eyebrow, Harry had never struck me as the boastful type.

Actually, my father got me a Firebolt so that I could beat you at Quidditch. I retorted.

It'll take more than a new broom to beat me! He jokingly rejoined. We kept on playfully arguing about who was the superior Quidditch player until we were out on the school grounds. We had stopped off in our dorms to pick up some Muggle clothing and a set of spare robes each. We gave each other a quick smile and then swooped off into the air. And now for my home. And now for my father.

Authors Note: Like it? Hate it? It is really important that you review this if you want me to continue writing Draco/ Hermione.