IMPRESSIONS chapter twenty-seven
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, except for stuff you don't recognize.
Summary: An emotionally, physically, and mentally wounded Draco needs someone to help him, whether he wants to admit it or not, after his father lands in Azkaban, his mother is committed to St. Mungo's, and his entire world crumbles. Romance/Angst.
Author's Note: Please review! THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS!!!
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"Mr. Malfoy, I have some unfortunate news," said Potions Master Severus Snape, frowning as he entered the Slytherin's separate room.
Draco, ghastly pale, looked up to see his professor walk in. He had dark shadows under his eyes that showed up starkly because of his near-translucent skin. "Yes?" he asked coolly, knowing very well what the 'news' actually was.
"Mr. Malfoy, if we do not find a cure, there is very little chance that you will survive past the month," said Snape bluntly. "I am doing research myself on some highly potent potions, ones which would even affect you, but I am not sure if they will have any use."
"So, what am I to do then?" asked Draco dully. It had been one thing eavesdropping and discovering his pending death, but hearing it frankly and cement-solid had truly made the fact stick.
"Dumbledore decided to have me talk over your options with you," said Snape in a considerably more gentle tone than what was normally used.
"My options?" questioned Draco blankly. "And, by the way, there is a cure, but it's not going to work." He grimaced. "I basically scratched it from the list."
"There's a cure?" Snape looked mildly surprised. "That's very good to hear. I hadn't come across the mention of a cure in all my reading. What is it?"
Draco glared at the older man. "It won't work; what's the point in telling you?" he snapped.
Snape raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "As your father is in Azkaban and stripped of all his worldly inheritances and wealth, the entire estate of Malfoy Manor belongs to you. Your mother is incapable of maintaining the Manor; so leaving it to her is not an option."
Draco's eyes darkened and he turned his head to look outside. Coincidentally, the weather matched his mood; there was a violent storm raging outdoors, pelting the castle and its grounds with rain. "And I have no living family members related by blood to the Malfoys," he concluded, his voice soft.
"I'm afraid not, no," said Snape, feeling unexpected sorrow for the boy surge through him. Merlin, he's only sixteen and he's writing his will. What bastard would do this to their child?
"Then…" Draco drew his words out slowly. "In the event of my death, the Malfoy lands and wealth will be passed to the hands of the Order of the Phoenix. Upon the event of the disbandment of the Order of the Phoenix, the all of the aforementioned shall be used as Dumbledore wishes," he said finally, turning his eyes away from the Potions Master's.
Snape could not conceal his astonishment. "Are-are you sure, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked in disbelief.
Draco glowered at the man. "Do I ever say anything I do not mean?" he spat.
"Not that I am aware. There is a first time for everything, however," said Snape, regaining his testy manner quickly at the impudence of the boy.
Draco said nothing for a moment, but then suddenly pat out bitterly, "It's my own fault."
"What?" Snape was caught momentarily off guard.
"I had the chance to be healed, but I threw it away," Draco said, reluctant to release any more information. "It's my own fault," he repeated.
"Mr. Malfoy, do not underestimate second chances," said Snape briefly. "Now, I believe that Professor Dumbledore wished to speak with you as well."
Draco said nothing as the Head of Slytherin left his room, for Snape's words echoed in his head. Do not underestimate second chances. Draco sat in his bed for a few minutes before the older wizard came inside.
"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore acknowledged. His eyes looked serious and troubled. "Professor Snape told me what you wished your property would be used for in the event of your… parting."
Draco didn't say anything. "What do you want?" he asked after a minute, running a hand through his silver-blond hair. He lay back in the bed, settling himself into the pillows.
"I would like to talk to you about Miss Granger," said Dumbledore truthfully. "If I am not mistaken, she is the one from whom you must keep away. Would you tell me what she knows?"
"Everything," said Draco in a low voice. "She found out about it the very first day of term."
"And what did she do?" prompted Dumbledore, raising his eyebrows.
Draco smirked, the shadow of his arrogance coming back. "Told me that if I didn't let her help me, she'd go to you. Didn't have a choice, really, and look what it got me," he spat, his voice turning bitter.
"Miss Granger had your very best
intentions, I'm sure," said Dumbledore in a placating tone.
"She told me she hates me,"
said Draco shortly. "After…" he stopped himself abruptly as he realized he had
been about to tell Dumbledore about the countercurse.
"I doubt that she hates you, Mr. Malfoy. After all, she did… fail to show up for classes on multiple occasions to help you. If that is not devotion, I am not sure what is," said Dumbledore, his light blue eyes twinkling.
Draco turned away. "In order for me to live, she has to fall in love with me. And I don't even want her to."
"Why not?" inquired Dumbledore mildly. "One normally enjoys having love, does one not?"
"Well, not hers," Draco said tersely.
"I see. Well, what is your plan, then?" asked Dumbledore, folding his long fingers together and peering down at the blond Slytherin from behind the half-moon spectacles. Draco was sure his eyes were dancing.
"I don't have one," he said blandly. "What must I do to insure that my mother is cared for after I die?"
Dumbledore's mood dampened. "Mr. Malfoy, one should never accept death as fact. My dear old friend, Nicolas Flamel, refused to, and indeed, lived for quite a number of centuries."
"Unless you have some secret store of the Elixir, that knowledge doesn't help me," said Draco, drawing himself up. "Now, I would like to do some thinking, and I don't exactly have that much time…"
"Mr. Malfoy, it is a Hogsmeade weekend. Perhaps you should ask Madam Pomfrey if you can go down. I'm sure she will give you a crutch."
Draco glared at his headmaster. "I don't need a crutch. I am perfectly capable. The woman only keeps me here to experiment."
Dumbledore shook her head. "Perhaps you are right. I shall talk to her for you. It is a lovely day. A bit chilly, but nothing a good warm cloak won't solve," said Dumbledore merrily. He turned serious a second later. "Remember, Mr. Malfoy, that your future is never set for you."
Draco didn't respond.
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"Ah, Miss Granger, the very person to whom I wished to speak," said Dumbledore, striding down the hall to where Ron and Hermione were standing, holding hands. Hermione looked very uncomfortable, but perhaps it was just the old man's imagination.
Hermione disentangled herself from Ron quickly. "Professor?" she inquired, ignoring Ron's look of surprise.
"Yes, I would like to talk to you about a private matter. To my office, if you will, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore.
Hermione, looking slightly apprehensive, followed the Headmaster down the hall, unaware of the suspicious looks both Ron and Harry—for he had shown up just a second earlier—were shooting her.
Dumbledore said nothing until they reached his office. "Miss Granger, I thought that I should inform you of Mr. Malfoy's condition," he said heavily, sitting down behind his desk and waving his wand to procure a chair for Hermione.
She sat down hesitantly, looking quite afraid. "Professor…" she began uneasily.
"Miss Granger, he told me that you know of the cure needed," said Dumbledore gently. "That is a very important piece of information."
Hermione almost died of embarrassment to be discussing the issue with her Headmaster. "Professor"—she began again, but he waved her off.
"Miss Granger, I have pondered the issue," he said. "And I have ruled out love potions. The curse is magic at its worst; its creator wanted there to be very little chance of survival. Therefore, he made the curse recognize true love and"—he paused for a second—"forced love."
Hermione went pale. She hadn't quite believed Draco before. "He's going to die?"
"If I may inquire to the situation in which you told him you hated him?" asked Dumbledore gently, evading her question.
Hermione went a furious red. "I was angry with him," she mumbled. "Of course, I feel terribly… But he was being nasty," she said, as way of explanation.
"Hate is a strong word, Miss Granger. I believe it upset him," said Dumbledore, the barest suggestion of disapproval in his voice.
"I know, I…" Hermione began. "I lost my head."
"It is very admirable that you wished to help him so much, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, taking the conversation in a new direction.
"Professor, I was doing what I thought I should. Now, of course, I wish I hadn't…" she trailed off miserably.
"Nonsense, Miss Granger. You were a kind and caring person, it is not your fault that Mr. Malfoy's father is close-minded and cold-hearted," said Dumbledore quietly.
"You know it was him?" Hermione gasped.
"I deduced," said Dumbledore. "Who else would know such Dark Magic, save Voldemort himself?" he said, sighing. Hermione detected an aura of guilt around the headmaster.
"Professor, I can't go helping him…" Hermione began, blushing red. "Ron and Harry were awfully angry with me when they found out and now that I'm with Ron…"
"Miss Granger, one's friends are not always right," said Dumbledore firmly. "Harry and Ron, because of Mr. Malfoy's attitude and actions over the past five years, are just as close-minded as Mr. Malfoy's father. They believe that a person cannot change. Or that one so—hopelessly evil—could actually be a person."
Hermione looked down at her hands. "But it was very hard," she whispered. "Ron and Harry are my greatest friends"—
"Miss Granger, do you believe that everyone needs a friend?" Dumbledore interrupted her mildly.
"Of course!" she said enthusiastically. "That's why I'm so lucky to have Harry and Ron; they've been my friends for ages"—
"Miss Granger, I do believe that Mr. Malfoy needs a friend," said Dumbledore gently. "Do not think of any relationship other than a platonic one, for now."
"How can I not?" asked Hermione in disbelief. "Whenever I think of him, I think of that stupid curse, and counter curse! I can hardly look at him without being so embarrassed I could die!"
"Miss Granger, if it makes any difference to your interpretation of his character…" said Dumbledore, ignoring her last sentence. "While talking to Professor Snape today over his lands and wealth in the event of his death, he decided that all of the Malfoy fortune and estate shall go to the Order of the Phoenix."
Hermione's jaw dropped. "What?"
"He was quite adamant about it, as I hear," said Dumbledore, the corner of his beard lifting as he smiled.
"Why would he do that?" asked Hermione in disbelief.
"Why would he not?"
Hermione realized the trap she had been about to walk into, and she settled back into her chair. "Right. People can change," she said dully.
"Ron and Harry can also change, Hermione. Just because they do not accept your—friendship—with Mr. Malfoy right away does not mean that they will not eventually."
Hermione sighed. "You're right, of course."
Dumbledore said nothing. "Follow your heart, Miss Granger. While your mind is certainly venerable, it is not always as knowledgeable as one's heart."
Hermione went slightly pale and she nodded. "Professor, Ron and Harry are waiting for me to go to Hogsmeade…" she trailed off.
"Of course. Go, have fun!" said Dumbledore happily.
Hermione gave him a brief smile and gathered her robes and bag, swinging it over her shoulder.
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"What did Dumbledore want?" asked Ron immediately once Hermione reentered the Entrance Hall.
"To talk about next year and where I am in line for Head Girl," Hermione lied without thinking.
"Oh. And?" Ron asked expectantly.
Hermione flushed. "He said I had a good chance…"
"Of course he did. You're the Gryffindor brain, remember?" Ron joked.
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Is that all I am?" she inquired coolly, not forgetful of that day in Hogsmeade where he had mentioned her usefulness for homework.
"Well, it's the most important thing, right?" said Ron, missing out on her hint. "Being perfect, and all that?"
Hermione bit her lip but said nothing, deciding not to provoke Ron. Interpreting her silence for agreement, Ron beamed and slid his long arm around her waist; oblivious to the little shudder she gave at his touch. Merlin, what am I doing?
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Draco stood patiently while the mediwitch threw one of his heaviest cloaks onto his shoulders. "If it aches just a little bit, you come back here right now! I personally wouldn't have let you out of my sight, but Dumbledore thinks some fresh air will do you good," Madam Pomfrey sniffed. "Ridiculous."
"He's making me go," said Draco dully.
"I know. Remember, if you feel the slightest bit of pain"—
"It hurts constantly, Madam Pomfrey," said Draco dryly. "Obviously, worse when I'm around"—he cut himself off abruptly.
"Yes, yes," said the mediwitch absentmindedly. "I know all about Miss Granger."
Draco said nothing. "May I leave now?" he asked coldly once she had taken a step back from him.
The mediwitch pursed her lips. "Well, Dumbledore says you may," she finally relented. "And don't eat anything too spicy or sweet! I don't want your stomach to get upset," she instructed. "No alcohol," said in a mistrusting tone.
Draco smirked. "Whatever are you talking about, Madam Pomfrey?" he questioned innocently.
"Off with you," said Madam Pomfrey. "And don't get too near that girl!"
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"Ron, Harry, why don't we go to"—Hermione began eagerly.
"We're going to the Three Broomsticks," said Ron decisively. He glanced over at Hermione once. "Why can't you remember to bring your own cloak?" he snapped. Hermione's mouth opened in surprise.
"Excuse me?" she snapped.
Ron unclasped his cloak and slipped it on Hermione's shoulders reluctantly. "Here," he muttered.
"Ron, it's okay, I'm not"—Hermione began, a little angry with him.
"Come on, we should get there before the crowd does," said Ron, grabbing Hermione's hand and forcefully walking down to the village.
Harry, oblivious, followed Ron.
Hermione bit her lip in annoyance that he wasn't listening to her. "Right," she mumbled.
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Draco walked down to the village slowly, happy to be out of the mind-bogglingly boring Infirmary. He wrapped his cloak around himself. I wonder if Hermione is wearing my cloak.
He stayed away from the other students, covering his recognizable hair with the hood of his cloak. He didn't really feel like explaining why he was no longer in classes, why his own house members hadn't even seen him.
He sighed. What does one do when they know that one's living one's last days? Certainly not stuffing one's mouth with candy. He smirked. Under normal circumstances, he would bewitch himself to appear older and would buy some drinks from the Hog's Head or the Three Broomsticks, but as Madam Pomfrey would most probably check him for alcohol when he returned…
He walked into the Three Broomsticks, deciding to settle for a butterbeer, though the stuff was so rich, it would probably upset his 'delicate' stomach. He scowled and stalked up to the bar. "A butterbeer, please," he muttered to the barmaid.
The drink was handed to him a second later and he retreated to a lone table in the shadows. He kept his eyes on the door, wrapping his slim fingers around the mug but not taking a sip.
His head snapped up when he heard the bar door open and two people with laughing, happy voices walked in. He scowled when he saw Potter and Weasley, talking animatedly to each other about something stupid. His stomach clenched in anger when he saw Hermione, miserable and completely left out of the joke, behind them. His frown deepened and his stomach burned with jealousy when Weasley reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. Hadn't he told her that she was to be doing nothing with anyone else while he was kissing her? When Draco saw that she was wearing his cloak—albeit a second-hand cloak—he bit his lip and drank deeply from the bottle, swearing when the liquid wasn't the firewhisky he desired.
The Wonder Trio hadn't seen him yet, as he was slightly hidden in the shadows, but his sharp eyes caught everything they did. He had a sneaking suspicion that Hermione had seen him; with her Animagi form being a falcon, he was sure she had excellent eyesight just as he did being a panther.
Weasley steered Hermione over to a table and sat down with her as Potter got their drinks. Hermione had a guilty expression on her face and was staring at her hands; Weasley, being an oblivious git, didn't notice and continued droning about the terrible length of the potions essay Snape had given him for bringing sugar quills to class.
Draco lifted his bottle to his lips, mentally cursing when his lips remained dry. He slammed down the bottle without a second thought and stood, stalking over to their table, sliding a smirk onto his pale face.
Weasley looked up as Draco blocked the light and the smile went to a look of contempt. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he spat.
Hermione didn't react as strongly as the redhead; she merely averted her eyes. Draco found that he had been right; she had seen him.
"It's a Hogsmeade weekend, isn't it?" Draco asked lightly, ignoring the stabbing pains from his stomach. He had to get away from her soon, or he would keel over, and that would just do wonders for his image.
"Yeah, so what? Why don't you go and find some other people to bother?" Weasley snapped angrily.
Draco's smirk broadened. "But it is just so fun annoying you, Weasel. You go all red and clash with your hair." He deliberately ignored Hermione, deciding she didn't need another reason not to save his life.
Ron flushed. "Look here, Malfoy, you may have kissed Hermione, but she's mine, okay? She likes me! Not you! You don't even deserve her!"
Draco opened his mouth to respond but Hermione was faster. "Excuse me, Ron?" she questioned in disbelief. She slid out from his arm. "How dare you?"
"What?" Ron's jaw dropped. "What's wrong?"
Hermione paid no attention to him as she rapidly unclasped his cloak and stuffed it in his lap. "You have been nothing but a prat to me all day, Ronald Weasley! And I did not ask you for your cloak!" she said savagely. "I'm sorry for lying to you, but you deserve it after the way you've acted! I need to talk to Draco, now, so you can have a good time with Harry!" With that, Hermione stood and dropped a few knuts on the table to pay for her drink, grabbed Draco's unsuspecting wrist, and pulled him bodily after her, leaving an agape Ron in her wake.
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Author's Note: THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!! I'm so sorry about the wait, but I have a really good explanation for it! I really wanted to make it a looonng chapter because you guys all reviewed, so I started writing 27 in my block of typing class (ridiculous, I know) and I wrote 2600 words of it, and then I accidentally left the floppy there! And then, I was sick this morning so I couldn't go to school and we have next week off (it's Spring Break—and I actually plan on finishing this story next week) so I couldn't just leave it there and not post twenty-seven until I got back! So, I coerced my mom into taking me to the school and I got it back and came home and finished it up. Now, on my computer it measures in at exactly 3213 words, which is about two times longer than most chapters, ha. I hope you enjoyed it!
THANK YOU FOR 472 REVIEWS:
Dark Angel Tenken no Miko Geni5 Marin minniemouse808 Kayla TISB05 Leda422 Tis91989 Lj Ms. Lit Sam Vicki Dracofan99 Siriusly Mione (cool name, BTW) Nikki (Thanks for reviewing my other stories as well!) Catmint Sunflower18 SycoCallie SweetCheeksDracoLuver (very… interesting name, to be sure) Karen Elle (Maura Moynihan) YOU ROCK MY WORLD Thanks for ALL of your comments, hahaha… You're great, thanks for all your help; I wouldn't have had the last few chapters without her. Stefy Ladie giggles ADSpencer Yaukira LittleWhiskeyGirl (again, very unique name…) DracMione Fierysoulgirl Nox Holly Maples Random*Oddity (Wow, you guys come up with the greatest names!) Siriuslyafanficaddict (great name) azure14 knivesgirl346 (Thanks for all of your reviews for my other stories as well!) Rya Silverflame Langocska VoxLoS Crazymadzy Stephanie Me FunkyDory Gizelle Reviewer Sam8 Wicked-afiq (thanks for the emails as well!) Rykatu*L Kaiba3 Remorseful Passion (What a brilliant name!) SHArice Krisitna Steph Artholien (Don't worry, this is a Draco/Hermione romance… It'll happen… Or will it?) DracowarThat's everyone who reviewed chapter 26! I know a bunch of you went back and reviewed some other chapters (hahaha) but you're mentioned already. Now, seeing as you FAR exceeded my goal for 450, how about trying a new goal? I was thinking, 530? Please? If you do I promise that Chapter Twenty-Eight will be good and long. And I already know what's going to happen, and it's a pretty important chapter… It will answer a whole lot of questions. Please?
Ar-Zimraphel