Malfoy Manor – March 1998
"Lucius! Draco!" Bellatrix called, "you'll never believe what news I've just heard."
He'd been sitting in the drawing room with his mother and father, listening to them speak of recent raids and deaths of prominent wizards. His mother appeared to be horrified as she listened to his father speak so freely and unremorsefully of the deaths. Good, he'd thought. Draco wanted his mother to see her husband for who he truly was. A fucking monster.
"What is it?" his father demanded, knowing his aunt would only interrupt them if it were something important.
"The snatchers arrived," she said with a smile, "and you'll never guess who they brought with them."
"I don't have time for guessing games Bella," Lucius nearly spat, "who is it?"
"I think it may be Potter, with his blood traitor and mudblood friends!" Bellatrix said, nearly jumping with glee.
Bile rose in Draco's throat as soon as he heard the derogatory term. It couldn't be them—they'd been so good at hiding for so long, and he'd been so grateful for it. He'd spent months perfecting his occlumency, shielding his memories of her from the Dark Lord and any other prying minds.
"Are you sure it's them?" Lucius said, unconvinced.
"Almost," she replied, "Draco, they were in your year, were they not? Come and confirm their identities so we can summon the Dark Lord."
Before complete panic could set in, he simply nodded and followed her as she motioned him towards the front door.
As Draco's parents followed behind, the boy took this moment as an opportunity to steady his breathing and shield his mind. He needed to remain cold and detached—for everyone's safety.
Although unlikely, Draco dearly hoped that his aunt was wrong. If something happened to Hermione Granger in his house, he didn't know what he would do.
A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts and he braced himself.
"Come in!" Bellatrix chimed, uncharacteristically giddy. Disgust rolled off Draco in waves, and he checked himself instantly.
The door slammed open, and in walked Fenrir Greyback and several other familiar faces. These were serious snatchers and Fenrir wouldn't have brought anyone here unless he was certain of their identities. Dean Thomas was escorted in, along with an unfamiliar goblin, no one seemed to care much for them.
Draco's panic rose when a boy walked in with Potter's signature messy hair and build—only his face looked as if though he'd been hexed or badly beaten. Surely it had to be him?
His anxiety doubled when Ron Weasley followed behind him, unmistakably himself and panic-ridden himself. He resisted against the snatcher who held him, and Draco knew he was in for it.
Finally, the last bunch of snatchers walked in, holding none other than Hermione fucking Granger. Her face was slightly bruised, and she'd lost a lot of weight—but he would know her anywhere.
Her eyes met his briefly, and Draco nearly crumbled on the spot. His heart was beating ferociously, and he wanted nothing more than to scream at her for getting caught.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, was all he could think.
"Who do we have here?" Bellatrix taunted, as she approached the trio.
"Vernon Dudley," replied the first bloke, who sounded exactly like Harry Potter. She turned her head to Ron.
"Barny Weasley," he offered, his voice horse.
Bellatrix then made her way over to Hermione, and Draco gathered all his strength to remain calm. He was on the brink of insanity.
"And you missy?"
"Penelope Clearwater—" she began in a small voice but was interrupted by Greyback.
"She's Potter's mudblood," the werewolf spat, and gave his aunt a copy of the daily prophet. There was a picture of Hermione with Potter spread across the page. Draco's panic instantly turned to terror, unsure of how to proceed without getting them all killed.
"Mudblood, you say?" his aunt smiled and grabbed a lock of Hermione's hair.
"Yes," Greyback said with a smile.
"And these young…men, how can we be sure if they are Harry Potter and his blood traitor friend?" Lucius interrupted, "I will not summon the Dark Lord for vermin we can dispose of ourselves."
"Draco?" his aunt finally looked at him, and he hoped his demeanour had not given her any indication of his inner turmoil.
He looked at Weasley and Potter long and hard, pretending to seem unsure. He needed to buy time, and if the Dark Lord came, they would all be killed—Hermione first and foremost.
"Well, Draco? Is it? Is it Harry Potter?" his father asked, his voice coated in desperation.
"I can't—I can't be sure," Draco said, hoping it was enough to buy time. He couldn't flat out lie, as they would soon know the truth, but hopefully in the meantime, they could plan some type of escape, or he could come up with something himself. His father was much too eager to impress the Dark Lord, but he was also terrified of disappointing the man, and if Lucius was wrong about this…
"We have all of their things here," a snatcher offered to his aunt, and she looked through everything they possessed.
Her eyes roamed over everything until they landed on something seemingly important to her.
"Where did you get this?" she shouted, as she held some type of sword. Draco could have sworn she looked genuinely confused, and even scared.
No one answered.
"Get all of these filthy prisoners out of my sight!" she commanded, and the snatchers obeyed, bringing the trio to the dungeons. Draco nearly sighed in relief.
"Wait. All except… except for the Mudblood," she corrected herself, and Draco's heart stopped.
He briefly looked at Hermione, and she looked genuinely afraid. Draco had never seen the witch look scared, not once in all his years of knowing her. She was brave, she was a Gryffindor. Now, she was terrified.
"No! You can have me! Keep me!" Weasley shouted, seemingly terrified for her too. They all knew what this meant, and Draco wanted to shout along with him.
"If she dies, I'll take you next," she smiled, and a little part of him died, knowing what was to come.
He screamed for Granger the entire way to the dungeon, as did Potter. Draco wanted to kill them for letting this happen to her, for getting themselves captured. He wanted to kill everyone in the manor—maybe he would.
The snatchers said something else to his aunt, and she responded angrily, stunning them all.
"Draco!" she yelled, momentarily snapping him out of his panic.
"Yes?" he replied, hoping his voice remained even.
"Take these disrespectful fools outside," she commanded, "I'll deal with them later."
"They're stunned, can't we just leave them here?" he tried to resist, not wanting to leave Hermione alone.
"Did I ask you a question?" Bellatrix snapped, "bring. them. outside."
Worried about angering her further, and making things worse for Hermione, he obeyed. Draco quickly levitated the four bodies and brought them to the courtyard. He couldn't help but try to think of a way out of this. His Slytherin instincts were screaming at him to shut up and save himself, but the instinct to protect Hermione was overwhelming all his senses. Draco couldn't let anything bad happen to Hermione. He couldn't.
Suddenly, he heard an ear-splitting scream and nearly bolted back inside. No, no, no, no. He needed to stop this, he needed to—another scream interrupted his thoughts, and he quickened his pace until he reached the room. Draco stopped before entering, bracing himself for what he was about to witness. The boy couldn't help but think this was probably the worst day of his life.
Writhing in pain on the floor was the girl he loved, with his aunt pointing her wand at her.
Another piece of him died then, and his hand reached for his own wand.
He was going to kill his aunt for this.
"I am asking you again, where did you get this?" his aunt said menacingly.
"I didn't take it I swear!" the girl cried, and Draco's grip on his wand tightened. He thought of how to kill his aunt without harming Hermione. From his vantage point, it would be difficult—he needed to get closer.
"Crucio!" Bellatrix shouted and his ears were assaulted with another wave of screams. Draco scurried closer to where they were, but his father grabbed him by his collar.
"Watch! Do not interfere," Lucius whispered.
"Sto—" he began, but Hermione's scream was flooding every sense he had. Draco was filled with horror at the sound, and panic overwhelmed him completely. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and the sounds of Potter and Weasley shouting from the dungeons were only making things worse—he almost wished he was there in their place.
Finally, the screams stopped as his aunt relented, and Hermione began twitching. Draco knew the image would scar him forever.
"Well?" the older woman said bitterly.
"It's—it's a copy," Hermione said weakly, "it has to be…"
Bellatrix contemplated Hermione's words then, and finally looked over to where he stood with his father.
"Draco," she said, "go get the Goblin from the dungeons. Now."
He shook himself from his father and gave him a look of pure hatred. Lucius could rot, for all he cared. They all could. He was going to do whatever it took to save Hermione, and everyone else was going to pay.
The boy quickly reached the dungeons and called for the goblin. Draco looked at Potter and Weasley, and immediately regretted it.
"Please Malfoy," Weasley begged, "help her, please."
Draco tried giving him a look that indicated that he was trying—he didn't know who could be listening. He looked around then, finding Peter Pettigrew in the vicinity and instantly thought of something.
"Shut it Weasley," he spat, but tried giving him a look to signal his agreement. Weasley looked him over momentarily and was seemingly convinced as he said nothing more.
As Draco grabbed the Goblin and brought him back upstairs. He hastily whispered a stunning spell that left Peter Pettigrew immobilized, thankful that no one else was around. Quickly, he tossed the wand back down to the entrance of the dungeon cellar and walked away.
"Say the sword is fake!" Draco threatened the Goblin, "and do not speak of anything you have just seen if you want to leave here with your life."
The Goblin simply nodded and the two entered the drawing room.
The boy observed as the Goblin went along with the scheme, and Draco couldn't help but wonder why it was taking the two Gryffindors so long to come upstairs—he'd basically given them the keys to freedom!
As if on cue, Potter and Weasley entered the room and chaos quickly ensued. He was face to face with Potter and knew what he needed to do.
"Expelliarmus!" the boy shouted, and Draco did not do anything to counter the attack. He was quickly disarmed and decided to play the coward.
He discreetly looked at Weasley and motioned his head toward Hermione, who hadn't moved an inch. Potter was busy attacking and deflecting attacks from his father and aunt.
Weasley had not been fast enough, and his aunt quickly regained control of the situation. Draco's stomach dropped once again, this time he was on his feet in seconds, as Bellatrix held a knife to Hermione's throat.
Both Lucius and Narcissa had been stunned during the fighting, so it was three against one. Draco knew what he needed to do.
"Your wands," he said to both boys, who looked at him with hatred. Good, he thought, even more convincing. Draco had a part to play, and they needed to help sell it.
They listened, hesitantly handing over their wands and Draco briefly realized that one of the wands belonged to his father. He would use that one to disarm his aunt.
Before he could act, a small creaking sound filled the room. Everyone stopped and followed the noise, and the boy watched as his former house lowered the grand chandelier in the centre of the room. As quickly as they'd heard the sound, Dobby released the chandelier and Draco quickly jumped towards Hermione.
Thankfully his aunt had jumped out of the way to save herself, and while Draco felt the burn of where the glass had scratched him, he was glad to have jumped in front of Hermione in time.
Running on adrenaline, Draco turned and found Bellatrix hunched over a chair. "Stupefy!" he exclaimed, as he pointed his wand toward her before she could realize what had happened. The woman instantly froze up and dropped to the ground.
Greyback lunged for him, but Draco was quicker and stunned the werewolf before he could reach where he stood with Hermione.
Potter and Weasley ran to him and the four of them were quickly apparated out of Malfoy Manor with the help of Dobby.
Draco held Hermione tightly, praying to Merlin that none of them got splinched in the process. As he held her, he searched for a pulse and began to cry when he'd found one.
They'd arrived safely in front of an unfamiliar cottage and while Potter and Weasley tried to help the Elf who'd been stabbed by a piece of glass from the chandelier, all Draco could focus on was bringing Hermione inside the dwelling in front of them. She needed rest, and while he carried her inside, all he could think to himself was that he would never leave her side again.
Never.
Follow-up chapter coming soon! Please review x
