Chapter 2: Truth and Running
Snape and Dumbledore walked into Draco's room to find him sursing everything in sight.
Snape walked over and gently pulled the wand out of Draco's grasp. He then ushered him over to a sit by the fire, then sat in one of the other chairs, Dumbledore sitting in the other.
"we'd like to know, Draco, how long your fathers been hurting your mother and you." Dumbledore said quietly,
"Why the bloody hell do you care!?!" Draco screamed, jumping up and glaring at him.
"Mr. Malfoy, please sit back down." Draco did what he was told. "now," Dumbledore said continuing., "I would like to know so that we could help ."
"why? My father was a Death Eater! Why would you care what he did to his family?"
"Insolent boy!" Snape sneered. "because you two didn't deaearve it, that's why. Narcissa never wanted anything to do with the dark arts. In school she hated your father and his ties to the Dark Lord. When her family found she was in love with someone from a different house, they arranged a marriage to Lucias. She was forced into the whole bloody thing, Draco. Help her. Tell us what has happened. Be her voice."
Draco glared at him. "I hate him more than anything in the world."
Dumbledore got up and walked over to Draco, placing a have on his shoulder.
"We believe she's been under the Imperious Curse so thet she wouldn't leave, or tell anyone what's happened."
Draco nodded. "I thought so too, after we learned about it in fourth year. Sometimes I would hear her calling out for her house-elf, Lacy. I think she fought the Curse, and was able to tell Lacy something's. Father, of course, found out and banished Lacy to work in the kitchens. After that, he locked mum up in her rooms, and no one was allowed into them except him. I would often lay awake at night, listening to her scream. I keener he was using the Cruciatus Curse on her. He liked to use that one on us the most, on me, mum and the house-elves.
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Severus, please fetch us Lacy, bring her to Narcissa's room, and tell her that she will be taking care of her again.
After Snape had swept out of the room, Dumbledore continued. "But she was allowed out to the Quidditch World Cup?"
"Yes, because father had to keep up his appearances. If he hadn't taken us, mum and I, with him, he thought people would talk. Come to the Manor. See the truth behind Lucias Malfoy. See how he really was. He took us only because he didn't want people to suspect things."
"Was he one of the Death Eaters levitating the muggles?"
Draco nodded. "Potter, Weasly and Granger guessed the same also."
Dumbledore nodded, smiling faintly. "ah, yes, those three are awfully good at figuring things out. Now tell me, was your hatred towards the trio real or something you were forced to do because of you father."
Draco looked down at his hands, silent for a few minutes. "I guess it was a little of both. Father didn't want me to be friends with Potter, because he had reduced his master almost to nothing. I didn't try to be friends with him either...because I was jealous, I guess."
"Of?" Dumbledore inquired.
"Of the fact Potter's so bloody brilliant at Quidditch, that he has a beautiful best friend, because Weasly is surrounded by a huge, loving, caring family. I'm jealous of Hermione because she at the top of every class, something I try so hard to do to please father, and I've hurt her to much to please him, I honestly don't think I could make it up to her."
Draco realized a split second later that he had said too much. Good going, you git. Father hasn't been gone a month yet and you're already forgetting the first rule; never reveal your true feelings.
"Your father's gone, Draco," Dumbledore said quietly. "The rules he made are gone, the life you and your mother were forced to live is gone. Its time to start over, Draco."
Draco spun around in his chair and looked up at his headmaster. "you can read my thoughts?" he sputtered. It was more of a statement than a question.
Dumbledore merely smiled. "Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you try to get some sleep or something, just don't try to curse everything again."
Draco turned back around, slumped down and nodded. "I don't plan on moving. I've got to figure some things out. Like how to thank Potter and the rest of the Golden Trio for putting my father behind the walls of Azkaban, and how to apologize for almost six years of being horrible to them, especially Hermione."
Dumbledore clapped him on the back and turned toward the door. Once he reached it he looked back at Draco. "And Draco?" he called.
"Huh?"
"Your mother will he waking up tomorrow for a brief period of time between her doses of medication we are healing her with. The minister, Snape, and I thought that maybe you two would like to talk before her second dose. Merlin knows the last time you were allowed to talk to her without your father around."
Dumbledore looked at the back of the blonde boys head for a few minutes before shutting the door, and striding down the corridor to write a letter to a certain someone.
Hermione was in her room, trying to decide what to wear for tonight when an eagle owl swept gracefully into the room. She stared at it for a few seconds, trying to figure out why it looked oddly familiar.
"You're Draco's owl aren't you?" she asked it. "What are you doing here?"
The owl hooted and stuck out its foot. She took the letter, and sat down on her bed to read it.
Miss Granger,
I have decided to write you versus Harry and Ron because I know you have an open mind.
Draco is not how you think he is. For the most part, he was forced to treat you, Harry, and Ron rudely, due to his father's expectations of him.
His father was abusive. He beat Draco and his mother many times, but liked using daggers and the Cruciatus curse the most. While Draco was away at school, his father took all his anger out on her. She is covered head to foot in bruises, open wounds, dagger marks, and curse marks. He hid it well though, using concealing charms on her, then ultimately the Imperious Curse, so she wouldn't tell.
Draco arrived home today from a holiday with the Zabini's, to find his mother in this condition. He blames himself for letting this happen, and if very angry with himself, and his father.
Miss Granger, I believe he needs to talk to someone his age. I am writing in hopes that you will put your past feelings aside, and help your fellow student in need.
Please do not say anything about this to Ron or Harry just yet. I will tell them when the time is right.
Albus Dumbledore
"He wants me to do what?!?" she screamed, causing the owl to fly to her mantle top. She ignored the owl and reread the letter
"He wants me to...to..." she searched for the right word. "Console Malfoy?! Is he out of his blooming mind?!?!"
The owl clucked his beak, obviously thinking that she was out of her mind, talking to herself.
She glared at the owl, then the letter, then her watch.
"Bloody hell!" she said, realizing that she had roughly ten minutes to get dressed and out of the house before Harry and Ron came. For some reason she couldn't even explain, she didn't want the two knowing what she had done every night since summer holidays began.
She jumped off the bed and ran over to her armoire, and pulled out a black miniskirt and a red halter top.
"You're just going to have to wait until I get back for your answer," she told the owl, which was ruffling his feathers impatiently.
She pulled on her outfit, then pulled her wand out of her cloak and whispered "Perfectus," and closed her eyes. The charm did her hair, make up and nail polish for her, which she found very useful. After a few seconds she opened her eyes again, pulled on a pair of three inch heels and some jewelry. When she was finished she looked at her mirror to check her self over.
In the short amount of time she had been out of school for holidays, her body had changed dramatically. She now had curves where she used to be straight and had filled out where she had been practically flat. She had cut her hair shorter, and it seemed to have tamed it down, because it flowed down her back in smooth curls instead of looking bushy.
But now it was up in an elegant bun, a few tendrils hanging down to frame her face. Her makeup was flawless and subtle, but her lips were done in what she decided to call a Kiss-me-red.
She arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow at her reflection. Instead of looking like she was going to go clubbing, she looked like she was going on a date to a classy restaurant.
What the hell? She thought.
She raised her wand to change it, but stopped when she heard to loud pops from downstairs. She sighed. Harry and Ron just apparated into her living room.
Shit. She thought, glancing around her room. Bloody brilliant. Now how are you going to get past them?
She looked around again. There was no way she would be able to get past Harry and Ron, so that ruled out escaping through the door. The last time she had snuck out of her window her shirt had caught on a branch and ripped in half. That ruled out the windows. Hermione sighed, seeing her only escape route. The fire. And seeing as she didn't know any magical clubs she'd have to do what Dumbledore asked. Go console Malfoy.
She threw her cloak on and shoved her wand in one of the pockets. Then she grabbed the letter off the bed and walked over to the fireplace.
"I guess you and Dumbledore win," she said quietly to the owl, throwing some of the floo powder from a jar on the mantle into the fire. "I'll go try to console Malfoy."
The owl hooted and jumped onto her shoulder. She stepped into the fire. She heard Harry and Ron's footsteps on the stairs. She steeled herself for what she was about to do. "Malfoy Manor." She said clearly.
She disappeared with a roar of the fire. She never saw her door open seconds later. She didn't see the look on Ron and Harry's faces when the two stumbled over themselves in a rush to get to the fire place. She never saw the look of confusion when they realized that she had said "Malfoy Manor." She never saw any of it.
Hermione hated the Floo Network more than she hated heights. She spun faster and faster, feeling slightly queasy. It didn't help that the owl was digging his talons into her shoulder also. After what felt like an eternity, she started slowing down and threw her hands out when she came to a sudden halt. She stepped into the room, the owl immediately flying through an open window, and looked around.
She seemed to be in a bed room. It was done in a baby blue and silver décor. The ceiling high windows had shimmery blue-silver curtains on them. A high canopy bed was against one wall, with all sorts of different shaped pillows. There were huge French doors on one wall, leading to a garden, Hermione guessed. There was a desk, an armoire, and a door against one of the other walls, and in front of her were a cluster of comfy looking chairs and a couch, grouped around a table in front of the fire place.
"You like it, I take it?"
Hermione spun around and saw Professor Dumbledore standing next to the fire place. "Oh, professor, I didn't see you there, sorry. Yes I like it. Its got a homely feel to it."
"Yes, I thought so too. All the rooms are like this one," he said sweeping his hand across the room, but with different color schemes." He walked over and sat in one of the chairs, gesturing to one across from him. Taking his cue, she walked over and sank into it. Oh, it is comfortable! She thought.
He leaned forward resting his head on the tips of his fingers. "Now, Miss Granger, I know why you are here. You left your house because your two best friends showed up and you didn't want them to see you...wild side, shall we put it? But you see, they will find out eventually, Miss Granger, the sooner the better. And if I do say so myself, Miss Granger, I was beginning to wonder if studying was all you did. Not that I'm discouraging studying by any means, but, Miss Granger, all work and no play, makes for a very boring day."
"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, smiling. "But all work and no play keeps failure at bay."
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling merrily. "However, this is not why I asked you here, to talk about rooms and studies. I asked you here on the behalf of Draco Malfoy. He is very worried about his mother and I..."
"How is she?" Hermione interrupted.
"Ah, well, as well as she could be at this point. She has been abused for quite some time and was never healed from any of it. Her body is very battered, but I believe she will be fine. She will have scars, as does Draco, but I think she will be fine."
"And yet again we are off subject. Draco needs someone to be there for him and..."
"But what about Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson?" she interrupted again.
"Miss Granger, are you ever going to let me finish?" Dumbledore said, amusingly.
Hermione blushed. "Sorry, professor."
"No need for an apology, Miss Granger. Misters Crabbe and Goyle, and Miss Parkinson are not close friends with Draco. They were chosen to be his friends by his father. He had no choice on the matter. His father's enemies were made Draco's enemies. His father hated Harry so of course Draco was forced to hate him too, along with you and Mr. Weasly. Draco's mother tried, when he was younger, to get him to see the light, and not follow her husbands footsteps. But when his father found out, he was banned from seeing her if he wasn't in the room. So with no one to stop Lucias, he was forced into doing many things. Secretly, Draco was envious of you and your best friends. Of you brilliance of your studies, of Ron's caring supportive family, but most of all, of Harry, who defeated Voldemort and his Death Eaters time and time again, something he couldn't do. Of the fact you three are best friends and always watch out for each other. Not only each other, but also others. Miss. Granger, all Mr. Malfoy wants...all he's asking for...is that. A chance to change how you three think about him. A chance to be friends with the people he wants to be friends with."
Hermione looked at him, tears in her eyes. "oh, professor, we should of known that it wasn't Draco. We've been so horrible to him. He'll never forgive us, will he?"
"Miss Granger, he is wondering the same thing. I you, Harry, and Ron could ever forgive him."
Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but Dumbledore stood, cutting off her words.
"I believe, Miss Granger, that it is time for you and Mr. Malfoy to have a nice long talk."
Hermione nodded and stood. Dumbledore led her through various hallways and down various stairs, to Draco's room. He opened the door and Hermione walked in, hesitantly. Draco was sitting with his back to the door, in a chair by the fire, and Hermione knew that he hadn't heard her come in. Hermione heard a quiet click ofhte door closing before she moved toward him. The thick plush carpet silenced her steps. When she was behind his chair, she looked down at him, and saw he was holding a picture of a laughing, beautiful, blonde woman, holding a baby, who Hermione instantly recognized as Draco.
"Oh, Merlin, Draco," she said quietly, stroking his hair with her fingers. "I'm so sorry. About everything."
Draco turned and looked up at her, the grief unhidden in his eyes. It killed her.
"I'm so sorry," she said, tears in her eyes.
Draco nodded and got up, never taking his eyes off her. "Hermione," he said, laying the picture on the chair and coming around to stand next to her. "Will you ever forgive me?"
"I already have, Draco." She said, looking up at him.
"Hermione," he said again, his voice cracking with emotions. He put a hand over his heart. "Hermione it hurts so badly."
Hermione nodded. "I know," she said soothingly, wiping his hair out of his eyes. She pulled him into a hug. "I know."
Draco put his arms around the waist of a girl he had loved for the longest time, and finally cried. For himself, his mother, for the pain and the hurt, for the guilt and the lies, and for the life his mum and him had been forced to live.