CHAPTER 1:: YOU NEED TO KNOW
Hermione awoke the next morning to find herself nestled in a large velvet armchair. As she tried to sit up last night's events came flooding back to her. She eased herself out of the chair and tiptoed across the room to see how the boy was doing. She went quietly to the kitchen where she reached into the freezer and got an ice pack, then knelt by the sofa to try and slow the swelling on a rather large bruise on his arm. As soon as the cold bag touched his skin, the boy began to stir and groggily opened his eyes. When he saw whose house he had taken refuge at he almost passed out again.
Out of all the places I could have ended up I had to choose Hermione Granger's house. He sighed.
"Are you ok?" Hermione asked him anxiously.
The boy nodded and tried to sit up. She helped him up and sat by his side so that he wouldn't fall over. When he turned around Marissa recognized him immediately. She stood up in shock and stepped back.
"Malfoy?" She asked incredulously. For once she forgot her feelings of hatred toward him as she saw the desperate look in his eyes. "What happened?"
She sat down again as Draco Malfoy debated telling her or not. Hermione felt stupid for asking him.
Why would he tell me? We've been enemies for life. Besides I'm a mudblood .I know he hates me.
Just as she was about to say something another voice inside her head seemed to contradict her.
But if he hates you, why did he show up at your door in the middle of the night seeking help? He obviously wasn't just taking a moonlit stroll.
"Sorry, that was a stupid question," She said quickly. "It's not my business."
She got up and was about to leave when she heard Draco's voice behind her.
"No, wait," He called, his voice scratchy. "I want you to know."
Hermione made a quick trip into the kitchen to get him some water then once again sat next to him. Handing him the water she scooted back so that he could have some room.
"A couple of months ago my mother was killed." He began, "My father didn't take it very well and started drinking a lot. I guess when he was drunk he didn't remember anything about who he was or what had happened because he would forget who I was. He would come up to my room if he heard a noise and beat me. He would think I was the one who killed my mother and blamed me for her death. I realized that I had to get out or he would eventually kill me. One night I decided I had had enough and that I was leaving. I went down stairs and tried to make as little noise as possible. I guess he heard me because as soon as I reached the living room, since I had to go through it to get to the door, he was there. I tried to back out and run, but my dad was too quick for me. Even when he was drunk my father was strong. He had his wand in his hand,. Knowing I had to do something I ran at him as fast as I could and hit him straight on. The alcohol had made him a little slower then usual so he didn't have time to react. I knocked him over and grabbed the wand. I ran to door and threatened him. I told him that if he ever tried to find me or beat me again, I would make sure he was found and put into jail. It wasn't the first time he had beaten me either. When my mother was alive and I was younger he used to beat me too. He would go out to dinner every now and then and when he got back he would be so drunk he could barely stand up. But even then he would beat me, I guess just to have something to do. My mother would try to stop him, but he would just beat her too. I don't know what I would have done without you. Thanks."
Hermione awoke the next morning to find herself nestled in a large velvet armchair. As she tried to sit up last night's events came flooding back to her. She eased herself out of the chair and tiptoed across the room to see how the boy was doing. She went quietly to the kitchen where she reached into the freezer and got an ice pack, then knelt by the sofa to try and slow the swelling on a rather large bruise on his arm. As soon as the cold bag touched his skin, the boy began to stir and groggily opened his eyes. When he saw whose house he had taken refuge at he almost passed out again.
Out of all the places I could have ended up I had to choose Hermione Granger's house. He sighed.
"Are you ok?" Hermione asked him anxiously.
The boy nodded and tried to sit up. She helped him up and sat by his side so that he wouldn't fall over. When he turned around Marissa recognized him immediately. She stood up in shock and stepped back.
"Malfoy?" She asked incredulously. For once she forgot her feelings of hatred toward him as she saw the desperate look in his eyes. "What happened?"
She sat down again as Draco Malfoy debated telling her or not. Hermione felt stupid for asking him.
Why would he tell me? We've been enemies for life. Besides I'm a mudblood .I know he hates me.
Just as she was about to say something another voice inside her head seemed to contradict her.
But if he hates you, why did he show up at your door in the middle of the night seeking help? He obviously wasn't just taking a moonlit stroll.
"Sorry, that was a stupid question," She said quickly. "It's not my business."
She got up and was about to leave when she heard Draco's voice behind her.
"No, wait," He called, his voice scratchy. "I want you to know."
Hermione made a quick trip into the kitchen to get him some water then once again sat next to him. Handing him the water she scooted back so that he could have some room.
"A couple of months ago my mother was killed." He began, "My father didn't take it very well and started drinking a lot. I guess when he was drunk he didn't remember anything about who he was or what had happened because he would forget who I was. He would come up to my room if he heard a noise and beat me. He would think I was the one who killed my mother and blamed me for her death. I realized that I had to get out or he would eventually kill me. One night I decided I had had enough and that I was leaving. I went down stairs and tried to make as little noise as possible. I guess he heard me because as soon as I reached the living room, since I had to go through it to get to the door, he was there. I tried to back out and run, but my dad was too quick for me. Even when he was drunk my father was strong. He had his wand in his hand,. Knowing I had to do something I ran at him as fast as I could and hit him straight on. The alcohol had made him a little slower then usual so he didn't have time to react. I knocked him over and grabbed the wand. I ran to door and threatened him. I told him that if he ever tried to find me or beat me again, I would make sure he was found and put into jail. It wasn't the first time he had beaten me either. When my mother was alive and I was younger he used to beat me too. He would go out to dinner every now and then and when he got back he would be so drunk he could barely stand up. But even then he would beat me, I guess just to have something to do. My mother would try to stop him, but he would just beat her too. I don't know what I would have done without you. Thanks."